Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Just This Once
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Personal message permission button.
A button I almost never pressed under normal circumstances.
I clicked it.
The moment I did, the official Balvarin account started typing as if it had been waiting.
'Looks like it sends a notification when you approve.'
Still unfamiliar with the system, I made vague guesses while waiting for the message to arrive.
After a short wait, a message popped up.
Hello. This is Han Young-jin, administrator of the official Balvarin Korea account. We are truly grateful that you like our Balvarin products and have shown their appeal to so many followers. With that said... 'Ugh, formal corporate speak.'
A lengthy letter had arrived.
Reminded me of that letter from England, now a distant memory. I read the long text slowly.
To sum it up briefly:
Thanks for promoting our products on SNS.
We hope you'll continue using our products.
So, we're offering to sponsor you with products.
Let's sign a contract.
The contract part felt a bit creepy, but since it wasn't some weird mascot suggesting it, it was probably just my imagination.
Anyway, the terms didn't seem bad.
Limited edition items, non-sale products.
Or early access to upcoming sales items. That was definitely appealing.
'Must be great for influencers and models.'
Wearing clothes no one else has lets influencers gain fame.
And Balvarin gets promotion.
A win-win deal for both sides.
'That's why everyone takes sponsorships.'
In the end, it all came down to money.
So I hesitated a bit.
If they were just giving products for promotion, I'd gladly take them, but this was a contract, not a donation.
What mattered wasn't the perks, but the sponsorship conditions.
I had to prioritize those.
First condition.
Out of every five posts I make, one must feature Balvarin products.
Second.
Criticism is fine, but no opinions that could harm sales.
Vague on what counts as criticism—basically, don't say anything bad.
Not thrilled about that, but the real issue was this.
'They want rights to use my photos...'
Third, consent to use content.
In simple terms, if I post Balvarin product photos on SNS, they want permission to use those photos.
Absolutely not.
Photos I post on SNS can be deleted or edited anytime—my call.
But a big brand using them? Out of my hands.
Too much pressure.
'No face shots, but still... hate the idea of them using my photos.'
So I decided to decline.
A little thought made it clear: I had no reason to accept sponsorships.
'Why take sponsorships? I can just buy them.'
Unless it's non-sale, I can buy whatever I want.
Even non-sale items—if you have money like me, you can get them somehow.
Money turns the impossible possible.
Thank you for the kind consideration. We're grateful for the offer, but I don't take sponsorships or ads, so I'll politely decline. My social life-honed refusal skills (not really from social life) conveyed polite rejection.
They kept saying how regrettable it was, repeating themselves.
After a few soulless agreements from me, they realized I wasn't interested and backed off quietly.
Peace of mind beats fame any day.
But whether they knew my feelings or not...
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ A personal message request has arrived from @Pranda.Kor. ⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ A personal message request has arrived from @SHaL.Kor. ⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ A personal message request has arrived from @LVis.Kor. Other luxury brands noticed my private chat with Balvarin and came rushing in with message requests.
'Ugh...'
I wanted to make the account private, but it felt wasteful to hide it for this reason, so I just pinned a rejection notice in my profile.
After this mess, I was glad I never posted my face.
Basic internet survival rule.
Never reveal your face in public spaces.
For the first time today, I was glad I'd spent so long online.
'No, second time—thanks to it, I made 500 billion.'
Correction: second time I felt glad.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The so-called red ocean of the SNS influencer market.
SNS, where anyone can start and become famous, is truly a wild frontier.
Once you blow up, life gets easy—but too many chase it, so it's always saturated.
Now even celebrities are dipping in, threatening the ecosystem.
In this red ocean, one woman neither too famous nor buried.
"Ah, shit. Did I take too many ads this time...?"
Ryu Da-bi, hypersensitive to recent follower loss.
Today, too, she took a light drag on her mint e-cigarette.
"Hoo... With all these heavy-filter bitches, I can't even pull aggro anymore, and the money's running dry."
On the balcony, puffing smoke lightly while glaring at her innocent phone.
Pondering new strategies, she tapped an eye-catching post in her feed.
"...Who the hell is this?"
Followers: 10.4K
Following: 15
Classic influencer vibe.
But the profile had a cocky line: no sponsorships or ads accepted.
"As if sponsorships aren't flooding in."
Irritated for no reason, she scrutinized the profile.
Every post: luxury, luxury, luxury.
Even the car that looked like her daily driver—a German sports car over 200 million won even used.
"...This is pissing me off."
The posts ignited Ryu Da-bi's already frayed nerves.
She dove deeper into them.
By the time her cig was done...
"No face pics at all, so why's everyone calling her pretty?"
No face, no exact body type visible.
Just photos seemingly designed to obscure identity.
Sure, another woman driving the same foreign car might guess, but not easy.
So Ryu Da-bi figured: insecure about body and face, just some rich nobody.
What could Ryu Da-bi do?
Nothing, really.
At best, troll comments from a burner.
That futility made her feel more pathetic.
Thus, needless malice born.
Toward someone innocent, just quietly posting on SNS.
So Ryu Da-bi decided.
'Must be ugly.'
She'd scour photos for activity range clues.
Then snap her ugly mug and leak it.
'I can cafe-hop for content anyway.'
With a sly chuckle, she tossed the cig stick carelessly outside.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "What? You turned it down?"
Yeon-a staring at me in disbelief.
Facing her glare, I speared a neatly sliced salt bread with my fork and popped it in my mouth.
I get it. Anyone unaware of my assets would look at me like that.
Plus, Yeon-a runs a model agency, so her reaction's even stronger.
So I explained indirectly.
"The stuff they sponsor... I can just buy it all. No need for the hassle."
"Unbelievable."
She shook her head with a laugh.
Seemed to get it somewhat.
Of course—after shopping together in the department store lounge, it'd click easier.
"Plus, the conditions were too annoying."
"Yeah. Luxury brands always have finicky terms."
Yeon-a nodding in agreement.
Putting a small bread piece in her mouth.
Watching her chew—like a bird eats more—I stared briefly.
"Why? Something on my face?"
"No, just..."
Embarrassed by her question, I turned my head slightly.
Yeon-a gave a wry smile at my reaction, then pulled out her phone.
'Hm?'
Her face started hardening.
Not good vibes, so I sipped my coffee.
Before my sip finished, she stared right at me.
Complicated expression.
"Something wrong?"
"Um... Yeon-bi. Really sorry, but... could you help me out? Just once?"
First time seeing Yeon-a look so apologetic.
Half worried, half uneasy.
But it's Yeon-a.
She's helped me plenty.
If I could, I'd gladly. Cautiously, I opened my mouth.
"Sure. What's up?"
Anything but guarantees.
"Just today. Once. Could you sub as a model...?"
Rejected.
Anything but guarantees or modeling.
Couldn't flat-out refuse harshly.
I squeezed my eyes shut inwardly, pondering long.
"I know you hate modeling so much but this shoot has no face shots just posing in mall clothes for photos so please just this once I swear I won't ask again..."
Nearly tearing up, pitiful eyes, machine-gun plea.
Agh, fine.
Absolutely the last time.
"Just this once..."
"Thank you! Yeon-bi!! Let's head to the studio now. I'll handle everything you need."
Instant mood flip, no trace of tears—she bolted up and dashed out.
Not really tricked, but felt kinda duped anyway.
"Uh, the bill..."
"Ah, the lady over there paid it all."
Still, she covered my share at this pricey private cafe—not totally ripped off.
She wouldn't ask if she didn't need to.
"Ah, can't wait. Those clothes'll look amazing on you too, right?"
'Maybe not?'
A man's word is his bond.
No choice—put Yeon-a in the passenger seat and headed to the studio.