The boutique was pure chaos, the kind of frenzied energy that made Min-Kyung feel alive and totally exhausted at the same time. The racks of gowns and tuxedos turned the space into a forest of color and fabric, every inch crowded with assistants darting between models, tape measures dangling from their necks like stethoscopes in an emergency room. Underneath it all, Min-Kyung's voice cut through the noise, sharp and bratty as ever, clipboard in one hand, tablet in the other.

"Stand up straight, Mirae—unless you want the world's first runway slouch shot," she barked, tugging a seam. Mirae grinned, swaying on tiptoe in a half-zipped dress, then stuck her tongue out. Alina lounged against a pillar nearby, one hip cocked, her curves poured into a corset that barely contained her. Natty spun in front of the mirror, watching the way her sequined skirt flared, while Yumi blushed furiously as an assistant adjusted her hem. All around them, laughter and gossip ricocheted.

"Do you think Joon-ho's ever going to show?" Mirae teased, batting her lashes at Min-Kyung. "Or is he still recovering from Yura unnie's claws after last night?"

Min-Kyung snorted, eyes never leaving the stitching. "He's probably begging her for a leave of absence just to breathe. If I was that lucky, I'd let her henpeck me too."

Alina flashed a wicked smile. "I bet he likes it rough—he's got the look. Did you see the way he handled that last fitting? Total control. I almost wanted to disobey just to get punished."

"Please, like you ever obey anyway," Natty said, flicking her ponytail, her accent giving the words a lazy drawl. "Some of us are just here for the food and the view."

"Yumi's just here for Mirae," Alina chimed in, giving the younger model a sideways look. Yumi turned a shade of red that matched her lipstick, mumbling something about "inspiration."

Mirae reached over and squeezed her hand, gentle and big-sisterly, her nerves momentarily forgotten in the swirl of playful insults. The room smelled like perfume, steamed silk, and anticipation.

Through it all, Min-Kyung checked, tugged, and barked orders—"Turn, spin, stand still, suck in, breathe!"—never losing her rhythm. She paused to adjust Alina's bodice, eyeing the telltale bump of a nipple ring beneath the fabric. "Don't let your dom twist too hard before the show, or I'll have to explain bruised tits to the press," she said loud enough for the assistants to snicker.

Alina stuck out her tongue. "Maybe I like a challenge."

The room dissolved into laughter just as the glass door swung open and Joon-ho stepped inside. Everything shifted, like a magnet pulling all eyes to him. He wore dark jeans and a crisp tee under an open shirt, his hair slightly tousled, face relaxed but alert. There was an unspoken deference in the air, a recognition that the king had entered his court.

Min-Kyung crossed her arms, feigning annoyance. "Did Yura finally take your leash off, or did you sneak out when she wasn't looking?"

Mirae skipped over, wrapping her arms around his neck. "We missed you," she said, kissing his cheek with practiced sweetness. Alina raised her glass from across the room, while a few other models whistled and clapped, making it clear that Joon-ho's presence changed the entire equation.

He took it in stride, grinning at Min-Kyung before pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I'd say you're scarier than Yura any day."

Min-Kyung batted him away, but her smile lingered. "You wish."

Alina sashayed over, nudging Mirae out of the way for a quick hug of her own, then Yumi, shy but determined, squeezed his hand.

"So, are we doing fashion or is this just a reunion party?" he asked, dropping onto the edge of the stage.

Min-Kyung rolled her eyes. "It's both. But I need your opinion—and your body. Off with your clothes, boss man. Last fitting before D-day."

Joon-ho shot her a smirk, but obliged, peeling off his shirt and letting an assistant help him into a tailored jacket. Mirae slid behind a folding screen to shimmy into her next gown, and the rest of the models gathered in a loose semicircle, passing comments, trading jokes, and sneaking photos.

As Min-Kyung and Mirae worked on buttoning him up, Joon-ho spoke over their shoulders, projecting for the whole group. "Yura's PR team dropped the ball with the influencers for Fashion Week. Harin and I are taking over—we'll be bringing in three from the club last night as a trial run. If they do well, we'll recruit them into LUNE officially. This is their chance to prove they belong in the big leagues."

Alina perked up, tossing her hair, eyes bright with mischief. "Smart move. Are they hot, at least?"

"Hot, connected, and not afraid of a crowd," Joon-ho replied, grinning. "Harin found the right kind of trouble—just our style."

Min-Kyung paused, letting Mirae finish a button, then gave Joon-ho a shrewd look. "You want them to stream backstage with you and Mirae?" She tapped her pen against her clipboard, thinking out loud. "If we're doing this, let's do it right. I've got spare dresses—nothing too precious, but definitely photogenic. The kind of thing that pops on Instagram, but also says 'Lumina' and 'Min-Kyung' all over it. Those girls probably don't have the wardrobe for a full-scale fashion show anyway, not on influencer money. Might as well use them as walking billboards."

Mirae lit up. "That's genius. If they tag Min-Kyung and Lumina in every post, it's free advertising."

"And think of the reach," Natty chimed in, sliding off the makeup chair. "Those girls go live, and every follower sees our stuff before the runway even opens. That's more valuable than any magazine placement."

"Plus," Min-Kyung continued, warming to her theme, "if they like what we give them, they'll keep talking about it. The right viral moment can outlast the show by weeks. It's not just about this event. It's about making us look like the brand every influencer wants to touch."

Joon-ho nodded, satisfied. "You're reading my mind. We'll make sure they know exactly what's expected—posts, tags, stories, the works."

Mirae, always thinking about the people working behind the scenes, added, "Should we pair them with our junior makeup artists? The main artists will be busy with the models, but the juniors could use the practice—and it's more content for the influencers too."

Min-Kyung's eyes gleamed. "I love that. Let's give the new kids a shot at the spotlight. The influencers get pampered, the juniors get to practice on someone with a real following, and we get a whole extra layer of behind-the-scenes content. Win-win."

Alina clapped her hands, delighted. "I want to see their faces when they realize what a real fashion show's like. Most of them only know sponsored unboxings and café selfies."

"Let's not be snobs," Yumi piped up, smiling shyly. "Everyone's got to start somewhere. Maybe one of them ends up a real star."

Mirae squeezed her hand. "And if they do, they'll owe it to us."

"Alright, alright," Min-Kyung said, rallying the group. "Let's get these last fittings done, and then I'll pull the dresses and check with the makeup team. Someone text Harin and tell her we're covered on wardrobe and beauty for her new pets."

Alina grinned wickedly. "You just want to see Joon-ho in a room full of rookie influencers, don't you?"

Min-Kyung's smirk was pure challenge. "If he survives this week, he deserves a medal. Or a leash. Either works."

The whole group broke into laughter, the mood looser, everyone energized by the plan. There was business to finish, but the boutique now buzzed with a sense of creative conspiracy—the models, designers, and even the influencers-to-be all caught in the current of something bigger than themselves.

"That's the plan," Joon-ho confirmed. "They'll shadow us, not the other models or brands. We don't want chaos—or lawsuits. Alina, your friends from last night are still up for it?"

Alina grinned. "Most of them would sell their souls for a spot. A few asked if you'd help them dress. Or undress."

The room broke into wolf whistles. Joon-ho just shrugged, "Tell them to get in line."

Natty, ever quick, pulled out her phone. "TikTok, now! Let's test influencer energy." Within moments, everyone was piling in, striking poses and blowing kisses for a thirty-second video that would be everywhere by midnight.

Fittings resumed, the pace relentless. Min-Kyung worked Joon-ho and Mirae as a pair, making them walk, turn, and pose for group approval. The other models offered candid commentary.

"He's got that CEO energy," one girl said, fanning herself. "No wonder everyone wants to climb him."

"Let's see if he blushes," teased another, pulling Mirae closer to him for a staged photo.

Alina sidled up, pouting. "No fair, I want a picture with the power couple."

Mirae laughed, grabbing Alina around the waist. Min-Kyung snapped a photo, then checked every seam and collar with obsessive focus.

"We need to support Yura," Mirae murmured to Joon-ho as Min-Kyung fussed with her hem. "She's pushing herself too hard."

"I know," he replied, brushing his knuckles down her arm. "That's why we're here. This whole thing is bigger than just us."

As the last model stepped off the makeshift runway, Min-Kyung rounded everyone up in the lounge. She held up a sparkling water, eyes fierce but warm. "To Fashion Week. To LUNE. And to making every jealous bitch in Seoul eat our dust."

Everyone cheered, raising glasses—juice, wine, or water, it didn't matter. The mood was equal parts nerves and giddy anticipation.

Alina pulled Yumi aside, giving her a pep talk about her first big show, while Mirae squeezed the girl's hand, telling her she'd be amazing. Natty was already filming a behind-the-scenes clip for her followers, dragging a few reluctant assistants into frame.

Joon-ho found a quiet moment with Min-Kyung as the chaos ebbed, both leaning against a rack of finished gowns.

"You did good," he said, voice low. "None of this happens without you."

Min-Kyung smirked, brushing a stray thread from his jacket. "You're damn right. Now go out there and make me look good."

He saluted her, and the two shared a moment of mutual respect, more intimate than any touch.

The day wound down with final checks and photos. As people began gathering their things, Min-Kyung reminded Joon-ho, "Bring your A-game tomorrow. The only leash on you should be my measuring tape."

Natty and Alina cackled, plotting their afterparty already. "No sleep till Seoul," Natty declared, and the girls whooped in agreement.

Mirae lingered by the door as the others left, slipping her hand into Joon-ho's. For a second, they just breathed together, the weight of the day replaced by hope. "You ready?" she asked.

He nodded, squeezing her fingers. "Let's show them what we've got."

They stepped out into the evening, the last glow of sunlight catching on silk and sequins, laughter echoing behind them. Fashion Week was coming, and for one shining moment, it felt like nothing could go wrong.

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