“I’m 20! Let me wear whatever I want!”
“No.”
Leeseo twirls around in her photoshoot outfit that basically covers 90% of her skin, not showing anything other than her hands, neck and face.
“But this is so boring…” she says, stopping mid spin. Her fingers pinch and pull onto the fabric around her chest, making the well-ironed top distort with two sharp peaks. “It's giving so much baby idol vibes. I want something… hotter~”
You lean against the clothing rack, arms crossed, looking at her with uninterested and cold iron eyes.
“It's age-appropriate. Cute. Safe. Fans like cute.”
She stomps her foot, flats squeaking on the polished floor as she turns to face you.
“Safe? Cute? I'm not cute anymore!” Leeseo whines, pitching up into that familiar babyish tone she uses when she wants attention. She tugs her skirt hem higher, exposing an inch of thigh above her jet black stockings.
Yujin’s sprawled across the black leather couch in the corner with her long legs stretched out, phone in hand. She laughs without looking up, “She's right, oppa. Let the maknae show some skin. She's all grown up now.”
Wonyoung, who's sitting beside Yujin with her legs elegantly crossed, smiles softly as she scrolls through photos of Dubai chocolate on her phone. She flicks her eyes between you and Leeseo.
“She’s been 20 for months. Let her try.”
Leeseo beams at her two favorite unnies, then turns back to you with triumphant, sparkling eyes.
“See? Even they agree!”
You transform into a wall. “The concept is youthful. Not sexy. You want to risk Dispatch headlines on your first solo teaser?”
Her smile falters for a second, then she sticks her tongue out at you childishly.
“You’re no fun.”
“Fun? We're not here for ‘Fun’,” you raise your voice. “Having ‘Leeseo from IVE Transforms Into A Vixen’ plastered all over every media outlet and forum is not ‘Fun’.”
She ignores you and flounces over to the rack, fingers dancing across hangers until she yanks out a sheer black mesh top. It's practically see-through with delicate straps, designed to be layered under something else.
She holds it against her chest, turning to the mirror again. “What about this? With the skirt? Super chic.”
You step forward and reach past her shoulder, taking the hanger from her hand.
“No.” You hang it back on the rack with a cutting force. “You stick to the concept.”
She gasps dramatically and shoves your chest lightly with both palms.
“You’re so mean! I’m literally an adult!”
Yujin snorts from the couch. “Adult tantrum in 3… 2…”
Leeseo spins on her heel, pigtails whipping across the air and points at you accusingly.
“Fine. Tomorrow’s my solo photoshoot. If you won’t pick something hotter, I’ll just do it myself.”
She snatches her bag — leopard-print, of course (she switched out her pink cutesy purse the day she turned twenty) — from the chair and storms toward the elevator.
Halfway there she “accidentally” knocks over a clothing rack. The metal clatters and garments of “cute clothes” that she rejected avalanches onto the floor in a colorful heap.
She freezes and squeaks with a purposeful (?) “Oops!”. She bolts off even faster with flaming cheeks, nearly tripping over the mess she made.
She pauses right at the elevator doors and glances back at you. She looks just the way she used to when she was twelve, waiting for you to tell her it’s okay to cry.
You don’t call her name.
You haven’t in three years.
Not since the first time Dispatch posted blurry photos of you two leaving a convenience store at 2 a.m. and the comments called her “the trainee with the staff boyfriend”.
It was just to buy some late night snack, but that snack was the appetiser to learning how fast a rumor can spread, and how fast it can burn everything down.
She snaps her head back and leaves.
The makeup artist in the corner stifles a laugh.
Her manager that's leaning against the doorframe shakes his head fondly. “Same old Leeseo,” he mutters, loud enough for you to hear.
You walk towards the mess and bend to pick up the fallen clothes, folding them methodically, avoiding everyone’s eyes.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket.
You pull it out habitually.
<Tiger Cub, 18:29> This was taken in the changing room earlier. Look at this outfit! Too baby right? 😣
[photo attached: mirror selfie, skirt tugged high, pouty lips, peace sign]
You stare at the photo but your three fingers move automatically, swiping them down — screenshot taken. The instant the screen capture happens, everything disappears.
She unsent it.
You open the folder labeled “L” and move it into the sub-folder “Pouts”.
The counter ticks up: 248 items.
A small, subtle smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, and it's gone before anyone sees.
Well, someone saw it.
“You just smiled at your phone. That was her, wasn’t it?” Yujin raises an eyebrow.
You school your face back to Unbreakable Wall Mode and pocket the phone.
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