Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Atelier (2)
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I picked up my phone to look for more job postings, but my eyes were drawn to my hand.
Truly beautiful hands.
Smooth without a single wrinkle, no calluses or scars.
Exquisite hands that perfectly fit the description "jade-like fingers."
Even the nails were pretty. I ran my finger over them, but there were no traces of polish.
Having hands like these suggested she'd grown up without ever having to work hard, living comfortably.
That would mean she'd had help from parents or relatives or someone.
But there were no parents' contacts in the phone. And no one had called so far.
Did that mean the girl Jeong Gyeowol had lived alone in a semi-basement studio until turning twenty?
Yet her body was too frail for that, and it showed she'd never toiled a day in her life...
There was no way to figure out how this body had survived up to now.
Or had it even lived?
Born in '95, now '05—ten years younger.
From male to female.
Wearing pajamas from my old house, the ones I'd worn.
From birth to twenty years old.
Had she really lived a human life?
It felt like I was approaching some secret I wasn't supposed to know.
"So this body is an artificially created lifeform? No way that's possible!"
That's what I wanted to say.
But none of this situation made any sense to begin with.
While I was stupidly agonizing over an unsolvable mystery, a text arrived.
It was from the number saved as "Atelier."
[This is Atelier. Please visit our office at your convenience.] Not rejected after all.
Relief washed over me, and the negative thoughts slowly subsided.
Time to stop breaking my own mental state with pointless worries and focus on something more productive.
[Anytime is fine. Let me know a time, and I'll come over.] [How about 11 a.m. today?] [Yes, I'll be there at 11.] Afterward, Atelier sent the office address and a map.
I already knew it from the job posting, but it was a thoughtful gesture.
Maybe, just like the detailed posting, they'd really take good care of me.
I got a good impression overall.
I was looking forward to the meeting a bit, but also a little nervous.
Not getting nervous used to be one of my few strengths... Maybe becoming a woman changed my personality too.
I'd just woken up, so sleeping was out.
Like a total newbie with no experience, I searched fitting model reviews on my phone.
Mostly people saying they tried it for a unique gig, choosing sites where faces weren't shown.
No vivid reviews from actual professional models.
From the pay mentioned, about 20,000 to 30,000 won per hour.
Shooting times varied.
Some days just one or two hours, others five or six.
One said over ten hours once, but usually short sessions.
From the employer's side, they'd want to minimize time and pay, change outfits a lot, pose every which way.
Max efficiency.
Even so, compared to other jobs, much better conditions. Interview was a go.
But this alone wouldn't cut it.
No idea how often or how many shoots, but earning a million won a month might be tough.
For urgent needs, sure, but sustaining life on just shopping mall fittings? Unlikely.
Before side gigs, learn more about fitting modeling.
Browse women's clothes a bit.
Most importantly, check Atelier's homepage.
What style did previous models shoot in?
What vibe does Atelier aim for?
Research my job a little first.
Then scout other part-times, head out on time.
No time to waste—I immediately pulled up Atelier's site on my phone.
"...Hmm."
The main page hit me with intense inner conflict right away.
First item: an antique rose red one-piece creating a romantic mood.
Whatever shade of red antique rose was—whatever.
Didn't mood depend on temperature, humidity, lighting?
Put on the dress and boom, romantic?
Clothes making the mood too? Versatile stuff.
Then ash and purple mixed in a subtle, seductive one-piece.
Or airy flower-pattern with cute volume.
A feast of diverse colors and flowery descriptions.
Like a modern art exhibit—listening to explanations but understanding zilch.
Thankfully, scrolling down, more wearable stuff: mustangs, tweed jackets, cardigans appeared.
Overall, clothes for 20s-30s women to dress up in for the day.
I had zero fashion sense, and as an ex-man, what did I know?
But I knew those were called feminine looks.
I nodded naturally, satisfied.
For a guy, that was pretty good.
Anyway.
After browsing Atelier, I looked for other part-times.
Not chickening out after seeing their clothes and settling for second best after getting hired—nope, planning to squeeze in more cash by splitting time.
Probably...
Model pay weekly to douse urgent fires, then PC bangs, cafes, billiards halls.
Couldn't check gender boxes anymore, but knew jobs preferring women.
Pretty face got better pay there, they said.
"I won't lose out anywhere, right?"
Confidence in my face surged, naturally stirring acting thoughts.
Was the dawn magic not over yet?
Like twelve years devoted, with more to give.
Kept bubbling up in heart and mind.
I must be crazy... no, a crazy bitch.
"Haven't snapped out of it. Acting, really."
To divert thoughts, back to Atelier site.
Staring at clothes I might wear soon made my mind fuzzier.
Naturally, onto YouTube.
Time vanished. Suddenly 9 a.m.
A few videos, but hours gone—YouTube magic.
Walk to Atelier: about 30 minutes.
Grab triangle kimbap and cola, eat and wash: 30 minutes.
One hour buffer—perfect chill schedule.
And shortly after.
Wash and prep took over an hour—late crisis.
Unlike my guy days, ten minutes tops.
Shampoo for hair: four pumps.
And endless moisture hair that wouldn't dry, infinite refills.
Not embarrassed at this age about a woman's body.
Nor getting turned on by my own.
Don't misunderstand.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Drying hair, mirror check: beautiful face staring back, always.
Pretty was an understatement. This was beauty.
"Hmmm..."
One issue, though.
Makeup was courtesy for women—okay to go bare-faced to interview?
Only tried men's BB cream; no clue on others, no products.
Slapped on house sunscreen, rationalized: this face is courtesy enough.
Prep done. Clock: 10:30 already.
Tight, but hustle and make it.
"Ah... clothes."
Women's mall, fitting interview—had to mind outfit.
Chose priciest from closet.
400,000 won suit set.
Matching shoes: whopping 200,000 won.
Total 600k getup, worn once a year maybe.
If guy shoes didn't fit, I'd cry and open Carrot Market.
But like clothes tailored to size, woman-style, shoes too.
Unfamiliar suit and heels.
Heels' look meh, but not high heels—thank god.
High heels? I'd trip three times before leaving the villa.
Mirror nod.
Just draped in clothes, confidence surged.
"Clothes are wings"—when the hanger's an angel, maybe.
Today's me: perfection itself.