Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: After the First Shoot
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The back of the outfit revealed more bare skin than fabric.
And the bra strap was proudly on display.
'...They want me to get photographed like this?'
It was the kind of bold getup that only influencers racking up hundreds of thousands of likes on Bystagram would dare to wear.
I'd never seen anyone dressed like this while walking from Nonhyeon-dong to Garosu-gil...
Is this really right?
I cautiously opened the door and stepped out, and for a moment, silence fell over the room.
The usually taciturn hair stylist.
The chatty makeup artists glued to their phones.
Even Manager Lee Arang, queen of dramatics. And the Atelier designers. Everyone froze.
It felt like time itself had stopped.
"...Insane."
"My clothes just got devoured..."
"Kyaa! Amazing! She's an angel! An angel has descended!"
Soon cheers erupted.
I startled and spun around to flee back to the fitting room, only for a burst of laughter to follow.
It was rude laughter aimed at my beige bra, making its presence known on my back.
"Haha, I left a top bra in there, but you didn't see it."
"...A top bra?"
The designer pulled something out from inside the fitting room and handed it to me.
I'd seen it earlier... but thought it was leftover fabric from cutting the clothes.
This is a bra?
The world of women's clothing was vast and treacherous.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The Atelier seemed small-scale, yet not quite.
They ran an edit shop on the first floor and employed designers, hair and makeup staff—flaunting the capital of a massive shopping mall—yet the photographer was none other than CEO Kim Seulgi herself.
Was it a lack of funds, or confidence in her photography?
"Don't worry about poses for now. Just stand naturally and look at the camera."
Click— Click—
Kim Seulgi shifted positions.
She barely pressed the shutter a few times before swiftly moving to another spot.
Shouldn't she check the shots on the monitor?
But seeing the satisfaction on Kim Seulgi's face, it felt like everything was perfect without needing to.
Click— Click—
No specific poses were called out as the shutter kept clicking.
Is standing here like this really all it takes?
Am I really worth 100,000 won an hour right now?
Guilt gnawed at me, so I shifted a little here and there.
Each time, Kim Seulgi's expression brightened.
"Perfect! You could pass for a pro model anywhere! Love the poses! One more shot, then on to the next outfit!"
The shoot was a breeze.
Changing poses haphazardly without any real direction, and the first outfit was already done.
As we moved to the next, Kim Seulgi set down the camera and checked the monitor—her face suddenly serious.
She beckoned me over with a hand gesture.
'...Did I mess up?'
No usable shots? They looked bad after all?
Am I getting cut already?
My heart pounded.
"...Jeong Gyeowol, you planning to keep this up?"
Her following words made my stomach drop.
"Is there some problem...?"
"If you keep delivering like this, I might just fall in love! Nothing to toss! Why no B-shots? How am I supposed to select? Ah! Arang, you handle the selects?"
"Whaaat?! That's abuse of power!"
"Yep! I'm the boss! What're you gonna do about it!"
They bickered like a dad asking "Daddy or Mommy?" over the selects.
But it ended in absolute victory for boss Kim Seulgi. The staff would handle selections together.
Thank goodness—I hadn't screwed up.
If anything, I'd nailed it.
This gave me confidence I could handle hundreds of outfits in a day.
The next was an ivory-based V-neck notch-lapel jacket with navy accents and buttons for flair.
Something about emphasizing 3D line details—I barely understood half of it.
Paired with wild pants whatever and a cardigan this-that, topped with the jacket.
It was the textbook girlfriend-pic look.
Later, they matched it with a same-fabric skirt set to highlight femininity and poise.
I had no clue what any of it meant, so I just followed instructions.
The sensation of wearing a skirt for the first time... indescribable.
I was definitely wearing it, yet it felt like I was naked.
Skirt on, no exposure, but I felt like an exhibitionist.
How do people walk around in these?
"Gyeowol... you got leg insurance? You need it at this point! CEO! Don't we have insurance in our benefits?"
"I'll protect Gyeowol's legs! Starting today, I'm moonlighting as bodyguard!"
Already feeling weird and flushed, their dramatics turned me beet red— a true beacon of humanity.
Midway through, makeup and hair touch-ups shuttled me between fitting room and mini-studio.
Before I knew it, eight outfits down.
The thrill and excitement of seeing myself in the mirror had faded.
Now, was I wearing the clothes, or were they wearing me? Mannequin or human?
Changing like a limp mollusk, reality was crashing in.
Especially now, struggling into pantyhose.
Eight changes and I'm wrecked. What kind of lives do pro models lead with dozens, hundreds?
Click— Click—
Endless shutter sounds. Manager Lee Arang and staff squealing surround-sound.
Designers grinning satisfied in the corner—it didn't seem so bad.
After ten looks total, the first shoot wrapped.
Under three hours, and cheers erupted with high-fives all around.
I was thrilled too.
Who wouldn't be for 100,000 won an hour?
But mostly, heading home to rest was pure bliss.
Fitting machine Jeong Gyeowol. Time to revert to human.
'Hungry...'
Saliva pooled thinking of triangle kimbap and cola at home.
"Argh! I'm feeling generous! Dinner's on me tonight! Staff worked hard—join us!"
"Wooow!"
"CEO's the best!"
The ad said no company dinners, right?
But first day on the job, and here's a dinner.
Free booze and meat? Count me in—mandatory.
Dinner anytime, anywhere.
Triangle kimbap and cola? Erased from my mind.
'Wasting saliva on that? Too precious.'
Sizzling grill fired up, meat on.
Sizzle— as backdrop, grill kimchi and garlic together.
One bite meat, kimchi, garlic, ssamjang.
With pamuchim, onion ssamjang, whatever—ssam radish fine.
Whatever it was, I'd force perfect harmony.
'Big ssam in left hand, soju in right.'
Left-ssam right-soju: my lifelong comfort, friendship, love.
With left-ssam right-soju, I could conquer anywhere.
Left-ssam right-soju is god, invincible.
"Confirming your order: squid ink arancini, steak with cream truffle, anchovy oil pasta. And today's wine, Diablo Purple Malbec, right?"
"Yes, that's it."
Leaving Atelier, my gut churned in anticipation of left-ssam right-soju.
But CEO Kim Seulgi was suspiciously loaded, shady mall CEO vibes.
And dinner picks? Suspiciously fancy.
What company dinner hits a wine spot?
I don't hate Western food. Pizza, pasta, steak—love 'em.
Wine? Never tried, but booze is booze, can't taste bad.
But... I sacrificed my god, invincible left-ssam right-soju.
My welcome party, they said. Shouldn't I pick the menu?
Sulking, I twirled pasta on my fork.
Wanted to scoop with chopsticks... but everyone spoon-fork-twirled, so awkward.
Heard some get stressed at free-for-all dinners.
Never thought it'd be me.
Left-ssam right-soju.
My sun, universe, world.
Ah... he's gone.
Whatever. First real food in woman Jeong Gyeowol's body.
Devoured pasta at possessed speed, stabbed steak and arancini, shoved in.
"Haha, Gyeowol eats like a champ! Dig in, we'll order more. Menu please."
"Thank you!"
Left-ssam right-soju, my god, gone.
But CEO Kim Seulgi, my lord, here with me.
So we ate and drank. Ate and drank.
Half-listening to staff chatter, ate and drank.
Woman Jeong Gyeowol's liver weak too? Buzz hit fast, face heating red.
Floor subtly swaying.
"...Excuse me."
A man's voice from behind.
I flinched and turned.
There stood the guy from the convenience store sidewalk run-in.
The one I felt tailing me.
Middle-aged, shiny bald head.
My body instinctively shrank back.