Idols and Pain au Chocolat

Hayoon held a colored pencil in front of her E-cup chest.

True to her bright, refreshing presence as the group's leader, her fingertips moved without a hint of hesitation.

"Director, how about something like this?"

Her sketching skill was clearly better than mine.

"Hayoon unnie, if we added something here like this, I think it'd look even prettier..."

Daeun, the member who'd come along with her, fleshed out the leader's drawing. Her suggestion was to add one unique accent for each member on the metal rings where the leather gathered.

Two hours in the workshop. As the conversation flowed back and forth, the outline of a new design took shape. Being women, they steered things in a far more delicate direction than the unisex harness from last time.

This time, instead of a harness worn layered over a top, they settled on an accessory form that clung tight to the body. Metal rings would be fixed at every point where the leather converged, designed to shift fluidly with movement. It would accentuate the shoulders and those sexy breasts, emphasizing the allure of the center of the chest in a style reminiscent of a bondage turtle-shell tie.

With this approach, the eye was drawn more to the cleavage than to the size of the breasts themselves — and the depth of that cleavage only grew more pronounced. Each member using breast pads to enhance her size was a given. But to create a more provocative bounce than padding alone could deliver, the effect at the center of the chest was what truly mattered. Rather than pushing up from the outer edges, the design's greatest strength lay in pulling from just below the neck to create a lifting effect through the center.

In the end, the heart of this design wasn't the leather — it was the placement of the rings. The leather was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠merely the line; the rings determined the entire silhouette. Fortunately, once we locked in the metal rings as our guide, there was no risk of the form going crooked. And if we nailed just one base pattern, belt adjustments alone would fit all five members. Unlike the previous harness, there would be no design gap between the leader and the rest of the group. Stage-costume variations could easily be created simply by changing the shape or color of the bras they wore underneath.

I finally understood why people obsess over girl idols. It was a stage performance that embodied the lyrics with every inch of their bodies, as if they'd wrapped themselves in the words themselves. Sexy movements that never lost their innocence, hair fluttering prettily. Every fingertip, every pointed toe drew clean, precise, beautiful lines.

Only today did I realize how much I took after my mother. Watching myself clap like a seal in front of a fortune-teller was exactly how I looked now, cheering bravo as I watched two adult idols perform. One audience member, two singers — and they moved freely back and forth across the space, utterly unashamed of their sexiness and purity alike.

It was only a leather costume hastily tied on for a temporary fit, but their breasts stood out all the more for it, and my gaze chased after those springy chests, thighs, and hips like a hound on the scent.

"Director, how was our stage?"

I couldn't just give a thumbs-up. I finally understood why anyone who saw a performance this captivating up close couldn't help but become a fan. Idols really were idols.

"It was incredible. I'd pay a million won a day just to watch that every single day."

The sudden talk of money sent Hayoon and Daeun bursting into laughter. Those three minutes had been pure bliss, but I couldn't keep neglecting work with such a giddy face in front of girls younger than me.

"...Ahem. While you were dancing, was there anything that snagged or felt particularly uncomfortable?"

Daeun offered her thoughts on the problem spots.

"When I bend my upper body and spread my legs more than I expected, the lower part holding my chest shifts ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out of place."

Hayoon said nothing. Probably because Daeun's chest was a bit smaller than hers.

"Alright, Daeun — when I design this, I'll add two more lines for the lower hold, not just the upper one. Once it's finished, pin it in place with clothing pins, try it out, and let me know how it feels."

Daeun nodded. At last, it was done. After nearly two and a half hours, the design had reached a draft stage ready for actual production. Of course I wanted to watch one more temporary costume test right in front of me, but it was time to send them home.

"This is good enough for me. I can work with this."

At last, the outline of Adult Pink Pocket's second stage costume had taken form. Company confirmation was still pending, of course, but with two of the five already on board, the pressure eased considerably. First, I'd show it to Myeonghun hyung.

I made the call.

"Hyung! Can you talk?"

"Yeah, I'm free."

"We've got a solid outline. The two of them like it — I wanted you to take a look."

"That's a relief. Moving the schedule up today was a stroke of genius."

The original appointment had been seven in the evening; it had been pushed forward to four. I'd been quietly disappointed. Partly because I'd scrambled through an extra round of cleaning so the two visitors arriving at four wouldn't find any leftover traces from a week ago. But also because of a lecherous little superstition — that if the appointment stayed at seven like last week, a beginner's luck might find me again. Me, the guy who claimed not to believe in superstitions, nursing a superstitious hope.

Friday, four in the afternoon. Most of the Startup Support Center staff had finished their field work and were heading home. The directors tended to stack their business trips on Fridays too, so the center was always quiet on Friday evenings. Only a few directors who lived in the dorms were the exception.

"Yeah, hyung — pulling the time forward worked out. The results came out well."

"I'll mark the checkpoints on the design Hayoon and Daeun worked so hard on and send it right over."

"Good, Jinwoo. Let me see it too."

I marked the key points on the sketch and sent it immediately, along with a write-up of everything we'd only discussed out loud. It would take a while for hyung's reply.

"Director Yoon, could we have some coffee?"

"Of course, Hayoon. The taste isn't much, but I've got instant coffee. I've been overthinking so much I'm running low on caffeine myself."

"Perfect. Caffeine is all I need."

Hayoon's easygoing attitude, so at odds with her glamorous looks, put me at ease. A diligent leader who never complained and never made excuses. Behind that exterior that looked like she only drank hand-poured coffee in Hannam-dong was a refreshing contradiction. She carried herself with a maturity beyond her years.

Still, as the youngest, Daeun was the one who made the coffee. While we waited for the water to boil, I suggested a wear simulation.

"Hayoon, the leather straps I have right now are all different lengths — want to try combining them with the rings?"

"Yes! It'll make things easier for you to work with too, Director."

Daeun set the coffee cups on the table. A soft tap. That sound briefly dragged a memory from a week ago across my mind. This was the same table where Yebin had set her discarded clothes. And the memory of her boldly revealing that bold I-shaped patch of pubic hair to me. That beautiful night had been exactly one week ago.

I went to the shelf and gathered the leather straps. Hayoon draped them on one by one, finding the good positions. The two shorter straps she neatly knotted and hung herself. Daeun helped from the side so everything could be worn according to the draft. I went back to the shelf for the metal rings.

The work of wrapping leather around a ring and turning it forward. Daeun held things steady from behind so I could check the proper length. I was about to pull another ring forward into place when Myeonghun hyung called.

"Yeah, hyung. You saw it? What do you think?"

"I like it, but there's one thing that bothers me."

"Hyung, wouldn't it be better to show the other members first and then finalize? We should get proper confirmation."

"Who do you think I am? You looked busy over there, so I already sent it to the rest of the members and got their feedback. Showed the company too."

Impatient as ever. Classic hyung.

"Just hear me out."

I wished I had my wireless AirPods right then, but today of all days I'd only grabbed the case and left the earbuds at home. I had no choice but to wedge the phone against my left shoulder. The distance between the mirror and the table was awkward enough that speakerphone wasn't an option.

"About the leather strap shape — can you switch them to round cord?"

"Yeah, I can do that. Hold on a second, hyung."

"Daeun, sorry — can you match the length from behind as I fasten these?"

"Yes, I'll hold it just like that."

With the phone still clamped on my left shoulder, I carefully adjusted the ring positions.

"Daeun, can you pull slowly?"

The straps gradually drew taut. Head tilted to the side as I talked on the phone, receiving Daeun's help, the cleavage of the E-cup leader in front of me deepened little by little. Honestly, I realized too late — with the rings holding from the front, I had no choice but to make adjustments right in front of her chest.

Skin so translucent it was nearly Caucasian, an E-cup chest on a tall slender frame — that cleavage was laid bare right before my eyes. While I bound the leather to the ring at a diagonal angle in front of her breasts, there was no way a man's gaze wouldn't wander. The mole on her left breast and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blue veins beneath that translucent skin rose higher and closer.

"Jinwoo, are you that busy? Want to talk later?"

"No, hyung, sorry. I'm fine, we can talk. I can work while we talk — just bear with me a bit."

As I spoke with Myeonghun hyung, we went back and forth about leather patterns, adhesion methods, all sorts of details. One by one, the requests piled up. I needed to focus on listening to the requirements, but my mind kept getting stolen by the deep cleavage right in front of me.

Ah!

Hayoon let out a short moan. Startled, I shifted the phone back to my left hand and turned.

"Hayoon, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Daeun just pulled too hard trying to make my chest show better."

Daeun quickly apologized. The things I needed to track from hyung's call kept multiplying, and I moved my hands frantically between the two of them. But no matter how hard I tried to concentrate on what hyung was saying, with that creamy E-cup cleavage right in front of my face, none of it was landing properly in my head.

Every time Daeun pulled the leather straps from behind to balance them, Hayoon's cleavage surged upward — and with every movement of those breasts, it felt as if her scent was leaping out at me. The feminine smell mixed with a milky breast fragrance that spread with each bounce, and that, in its own way, was wonderful. Hayoon had turned her head to the side, slightly embarrassed by me looking down at her from so close. Even an easygoing leader was still, inevitably, a woman in her twenties through and through.

"Hyung, I've got everything. I'll reflect it all in the work. Thanks for collecting the feedback."

"Great! Counting on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you again this time. I know the weekend's busy, but by Monday, please."

I ended the call with hyung.

The shape was roughly in place now. Thanks to testing it with actual choreography, I had a decent sense of the leather lengths at each position and how much elasticity we'd need. After a final length adjustment, I temporarily mounted the new design's preview on Hayoon's body, and the three of us stood in front of the mirror. Because of Hayoon's large chest, the front position was slightly off, so I adjusted it this way and that with my hands in the mirror.

"Ah! Director, right there — that position is perfect."

"I'll set this to Hayoon's measurements and make it adjustable for Daeun and the other members."

"And I won't forget to add those two extra diagonal lines on the lower side for Daeun."

"Yes — you could pull it even more boldly, but..."

Hayoon, still talking as she looked in the mirror, suddenly screamed.

"Kyaah! A gh— a ghost! There's a ghost!"

Something had been outside the window, then vanished. Goosebumps rose on my skin even as I bolted for the door. The workshop windows had wire mesh, so you couldn't see outside properly from inside. Thief? Ghost? I had to check first. I was scared too, but I opened the heavy steel front door anyway.

The moment it swung open, a figure stood before me — black hair, something white covering her from face to knees.

"Aaaagh!!"

I nearly fell over backward.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you..."

Only the voice told me. Not a thief, not a ghost — it was Officer Minseo. A face thick with sunscreen, a white cycling outfit fitted snug to her body. A white bicycle stood beside her.

"Minseo, you really scared me."

I pressed a hand to my chest and caught my breath for a moment.

"Whew — but it's past six. You haven't left the center yet?"

"No — I had a vendor appointment at four, and it's only a twenty-minute ride, so I came by bike for the exercise."

"So you have work late into the evening?"

"No... not exactly..."

In her hands were two white pastry bags.

"It's pain au chocolat. For coffee this evening. I was buying something for myself on the way, so I got one more for you, Jinwoo. You said you'd never tried it..."

She'd remembered a throwaway comment from before the rafting water trip. Takeout coffee still warm, and two chocolates I'd never tasted before.

"Thank you. You didn't have to go this far for me..."

"I was going to knock and give them to you earlier, but I heard women's voices inside the workshop, so I peeked through the window just in case, and then..."

"Ah... they're here for costume design — for a girl idol group managed by a close hyung of mine."

"Minseo, if you're free, why don't you come share these with us before you go."

At my suggestion, Minseo glanced through the open doorway at Hayoon and Daeun.

"No, that's alright. You have guests. Make me coffee next time, when no one's here."

"Alright. If I'd known you were coming, I would have sent the guests off first. It was a rushed job, so we moved the schedule up..."

"It can't be helped. The women visiting Director Yoon's office..."

"Especially guests who are. beautiful. from. head. to. toe..."

Today's Officer Minseo was a little different from usual. Maybe from the intense bike ride over — her voice was stiffer than normal, and there was a sulky edge to her. Her words kept skidding off at angles. I could feel Hayoon and Daeun watching from inside the workshop.

"Director Yoon, your guests seem busy — go on back in. See you next week."

"Yes, Minseo. Thank you for bringing the food. I'll eat it well and pay you back with something even better."

Minseo let out a short laugh.

"Since it's Director Yoon who always keeps his promises talking — I suppose I should believe you. from. head. to. toe."

She lightly mounted her bike and turned it around. Then, with her angry-looking backside facing the direction I stood, she twisted her head to the left and spoke. In that brief moment as she turned, my eyes went to the fact that not a single underwear line showed through that cycling outfit. There was space inside the clothes, but nothing covering over it. A long, lecherous gaze was bound to get caught, so I looked away quickly enough.

"Well then — work hard, get home safe... and have a good weekend, Jinwoo."

"You too, Minseo. Sorry about today. I'll definitely pay you back."

"Okay."

She of the firm thighs wheeled her bike away. I watched her back for a long time as she struggled to drag a bicycle that didn't belong on the gravel path near Workshop 19, turning the corner. Just before she disappeared around it, she glanced back once. Then she was gone from sight.

I went back into the workshop. It was getting close to seven in the evening. I needed to finish up and head home myself.

I saw Hayoon and Daeun off. Because Myeonghun hyung had told them about the footpath that connected the parking lot straight to our workshop, the two of them had come up the back-door trail on the way in — and they left the same way, through the container's rear door. Casual clothes befitting idols in their twenties. They hadn't dressed up, but even so, their prettiness couldn't be hidden. The sight of the two of them heading down together like sisters was a good one to watch. Streetlamps lit the path, but that had nothing to do with how I felt. Grateful for the hours they'd spent working hard with me, I simply watched until they were all the way down.

When the leader and member of Adult Pink Pocket were about halfway down the path, two women started walking up from the parking lot end, each on her own. One was black-haired — legs as long and slender as Hayoon's, a white lace top and jeans. The other was bleached blonde — a black ribbed dress that followed every line of her slender body. From a distance, the four of them looked like one idol team. That slender, that well-matched.

And on that footpath — barely wide enough for one person — the two going down and the two coming up came face to face. It was like a Western duel. Or a slender-versus-slender matchup. Sensing me watching from the back door above, the two coming up glanced once at Hayoon and Daeun across from them, then once up at me.

Looking down at the four below, I thought: Man... this country really does have way too many beautiful women.

That was the last of the scene I took in before stepping back through the rear door. Today's work was done. Pack the bag to take from the workshop. Tidy the area for about five minutes. Leave a memo of the call contents. That was the day. I should organize the important points from Myeonghun hyung before I forgot them. The actual work could wait until I came in tomorrow.

But a strange loneliness crept in unbidden. Barely two hours — what was the woman I'd seen a week ago doing right now? I didn't even have her number, so there was no way to ask how she was. I started organizing the table and writing notes in my notebook.

About five minutes had passed when two women's voices drifted in from outside the workshop window. I'd never opened that window myself — Minseo must have cracked it open earlier when she was peeking. Two high-pitched voices. They were arguing about something. With no other noise around, every word carried clearly through the glass.

"Those two got rejected — what chance do we have?"

"They're pretty, but there's no sexiness in their faces. We've got more of an edge."

"It took an hour and a half just to get here."

"It's a once-in-a-lifetime 'I-8.' Even if only to make the trip worth it after reading the real reviews, we have to at least try."

I-8. Was that an onomatopoeia? I had no idea what it meant. It sounded like the shout you make during a taekkyeon kick.

Now the two voices were louder, right in front of the back door. Because I hadn't kicked the doorstop out of the way when I came in, the door wasn't fully shut either.

"Unnie, don't. It's embarrassing."

"We have to go for it at least once."

"Otherwise we'll end up like those two earlier — showing up in clean clothes, never taking them off, and leaving with nothing to show for it—"

"—and getting rejected by a celebrity is even worse."

Some kind of frantic scuffling. Thumps and rustling continued right outside the door. Wondering what on earth two women were doing having a full-blown struggle in front of someone else's office in the middle of the night, I cracked the door open.

Through the gap, I saw the two women who'd been climbing the footpath earlier. The blonde slender in the ribbed dress was holding her black lace panties, pulled down to her knees, with her hands. The black-haired woman in jeans was squatting, yanking the blonde's panties further down.

In that instant, a gust of wind came through the open window and shoved hard against the back door. If I hadn't been holding it with my right hand, the wind-blown door would have slammed into one of them. The two of them saw me opening the door — and the tall one who'd been pulling the other's underwear spoke first, looking straight at me.

"We're better than those two from earlier... do you like what you see?"

I'd half expected this, and half still had no idea what was going on. The wind blew hard again. The hem of the ribbed dress fluttered. For a moment, smooth bare thighs without underwear flashed into view and vanished.

So beginner's luck didn't end last week after all...

My biggest worry was that the door might fly open too fast and hit them. And if bugs got in, that would be even more of a headache. Or maybe those were just absurd excuses I was feeding myself, along with a lecherous hope.

I looked at them and said, "That's dangerous. Come inside first."

They stepped into the workshop, and I turned my back to them, putting water on to boil in the electric kettle so I could at least make them some of the coffee from earlier. I checked the time on my phone. 7:02 p.m.

They must have arrived before seven. The scuffle alone took more than two minutes.

I was smirking to myself as the water heated when I felt a woman's hair brush against my back. And then, suddenly, a woman's hand slid from behind, slipping through the front of my jeans. My cock was caught in a soft hand.

I startled and tried to turn my head back over my shoulder.

"Wh-what the..."

As always — especially on Fridays — my predictions had a terrible accuracy rate.