Kwon Yuri: The Tsundere Retired Idol's MV Reunion Date
A week after our meeting before signing the contract, after some back-and-forth haggling, the deal was officially sealed. It'd stay a secret—after all, it's the kind of behind-the-scenes celebrity drama no one talks about publicly—but on paper, Kwon Yuri had taken over one of my companies just to get business cards made, and she was now its "promotional model."
With the contract done, I hopped in my car and called ahead to pick her up from a spot a short walk from her place. A sports car felt too flashy, and something too plain might disrespect her ex-idol status, so I went with a sensible mid-size sedan.
Tang! Not sure if she appreciated my thoughtful choice, Kwon Yuri yanked open the passenger door with an irritated huff and slid in. Celebrities probably ride in chauffeured cars as a daily routine; she plopped down in the passenger seat like it was nothing, crossed her arms with a sullen pout, and finally answered my first question.
"I only wear it because it's not some casual outing. You think I like wearing this crap?"
Only once inside the private cocoon of the car did she peel off her mask. She tossed the black thing onto the center console and shot me a sideways glance.
"So? What does a rich pervert like you want with a washed-up idol who's seen better days?"
"Before that, are we dropping the formal speech like we agreed?"
"Sure, since you're richer than me. Or older? To me now, age is just a number."
"Uh... if we're splitting hairs, I'm about ten years younger than you, Yuri."
"...Then shut up and drive. I'm getting annoyed just talking about age."
She turned her head toward the window like she genuinely hated it. Can't get her to switch to casual speech right away, huh... I'd always naturally gone casual with women older than me, no matter the gap, but she seemed even more hierarchy-obsessed than Soeun from her military days. I'd heard female idols had a strict pecking order internally—guess I was experiencing it firsthand, indirectly.
"Still, 'Yuri-ssi' feels too cold and stiff, so I'll call you noona."
"...Do whatever."
"So, we agreed to meet up seriously starting today, right?"
I shifted into gear and eased on the accelerator. "I called you out for a date."
"A da~te?"
She latched onto that one word. Her face soured into a sneer, her tone sharp and mocking, like she was picking at a scab. Most women would've brushed past it smoothly, but Yuri noona scrunched up her face like it gave her goosebumps. Maybe at her age, she hated anything girly; she scratched at her arms like it physically itched.
"Uh... I meant let's take it slow since you hate cheesy lines. Was that bad?"
I was thrown off by how different she was from the monitor screen, but I kept my cool. She slumped back into the passenger seat and replied.
"I'm in my mid-thirties."
Propping her elbow on the door, chin in hand. "You think my long-dead romance cells are gonna revive just 'cause some halfway-decent guy shows up?"
"Ah, so first impressions were good?"
"Until you started talking shit. Fuck, right up till that dickhead comment."
"Lucky me, I still have a shot to recover."
"...Even though your sleazy plan is to sweet-talk me into bed."
She turned back toward me, eyes narrowed like she couldn't comprehend it with her rigid brain. She repeated the question she'd brought up before.
"Hey,"
"Yeah."
"In this day and age, any girl would drop her panties for cash on the spot. So why go through all this hassle?"
Kwon Yuri turned cynical the moment her idol smile faded. Her analytical mind couldn't wrap around it—it made perfect sense from her view. For a guy, it'd be like a random woman on the street swearing she'd marry you after one glance: suspicious as hell.
But the answer was obvious. I knew it was a huge pain in the ass despite my bottomless cash, but...
"'Cause I found you, noona."
"...What?"
"Bit of a coincidence, but I saw you, met you like this—might as well see it through."
I stopped at a red light and looked over. "Why settle for second-best when the top choice is right here? Where's the fun in compromise?"
She'd hate the sappy vibe from our chats so far, but I figured it'd get my real feelings across.
"......"
This time, no arm-scratching. She reined in her over-the-top reaction, just turned to the window again.
"Hah, suit yourself."
A quiet murmur. For a former top idol, picking "best" hit the right note, apparently.
*
"How amazing is this date spot gonna be?"
I floored it a bit after picking her up. I'd prepped a surprise in the Gyeonggi area to blow her away, but traffic was unavoidable. We parked in a quiet, nondescript lot, and I got out. She followed, arms crossed at an awkward, distrustful distance.
Damn, celebrities really are different. Just her crossed arms looked unreal, like she stepped out of a painting. Not just pretty—petite face, blessed proportions, model aura oozing from her poised stance. A simple shirt-and-skirt combo screaming "I dressed casual 'cause you called," yet on her, standing alone was a photoshoot. Seeing hints of her old idol look overlaid made me certain I'd made the right call bringing her.
"It's a surprise— you'll see inside."
"...Sketchy. You selling me or what?"
"I'd have done it at the port. Why bother packaging you here?"
"......"
She followed with a wary chuckle. The building looked nice outside, but no one'd guess its purpose till entering—no sign meant it screamed shady to passersby.
Click, click! I unlocked the Schrödinger's cat box with the key. The owner had handed it over and left town; I swung the door open to reveal.
"What the hell is this? Why bring me to some creepy─"
Tick! Lights on, visibility fixed. Kwon Yuri glanced away, then her eyes went wide.
"You... no way, this is─"
"Yep. The MV set from your hit song."
It clicked. Long ago, Secret Girls' smash hit MV set. We were new to each other, no shared nostalgia. So I rewound time: her in her twenties, peaking; me a teen watcher. She stared, then slowly stepped in, poking around like it was magic, muttering to herself.
"...No way this still exists. It's been forever."
"It didn't. So I rebuilt it."
"You made this in that short time?!"
"Throw money at the industry, they make anything."
"Why!? It must've cost a fortune—why the hassle...?"
Her mouth twisted, but her standing fur betrayed her. She'd never lie to this effort—I'd poured cash to craft our memory, and Kwon Yuri couldn't fake her reaction.
"Noona, I prepped the outfits you wore too."
"You made those too...?"
"Nah, found 'em in your agency's warehouse. They keep valuable stuff intact."
I rolled out the wheeled rack. She rushed over, touching.
Her long eyelids fluttered, lost in memory. "Just like back then..."
"Was dry-cleaned and bagged, but I ripped it open."
"Not just mine—Gaeul's outfit, Taehui's 8cm heels, ah! This is Sonna's!"
She giggled suddenly. "You know? During filming, one member's weight gain meant the back zipper wouldn't close. We taped it shut to hide the rear... Ah, there! See the glitter grass tear?"
Memories vivid, her real smile emerged—not idol business, probably her first genuine one for me. I watched warmly; she caught herself, hid it with a cough, rehanging the clothes.
"...So, you blew a ton of cash. Now what?"
"What else? We recreated it—time to shoot that banger MV."
"By yourself?"
"Old faces reunion was planned, but schedules clash."
"...Cartilage worn out—I can't dance like before."
"Who cares? No NG, just for my eyes forever."
I grabbed the flashiest from the rack—her main dancer outfit, memorized from MV rewatches.
"Start shooting?"
"...Fine, if you're that set."
Pulled along, she took charge. "Filter's gotta be this one—no filter's just a docu!"
"Uh... this?"
"No! Darker. That's the vibe."
Her scowl vanished; engine revved. She handled camera, checked filters meticulously, channeled director for angles.
"Perfect. Next, Gaeul's part... Should I swap outfits and film?"
"Fit?"
"All mine. I was lightest then. Sonna's would have front-back slack."
"...You didn't say that outright, right?"
"I said it straight every time?"
"......"
Playful to serious. Retirement concert still planning, but this date reignited her passion.
"Hoo, haa... Good, final take!"
...She needed an outlet. Sweat-drenched fervor confirmed it. Concert talk showed lingering idol attachment. Age, worn joints—cynicism masked pride. Bad ending left regrets, not faded glory.
"Final shot! Good work."
"You really say that?"
"Yeah, staff grovel at wrap. Whew, good sweat after ages."
She chugged water. Sweat-slick was sexy, but I focused elsewhere.
"Hmm... Rough AI edit stitched okay? Not bad."
Amateur recreation, solid quality. Her solo multi-role, me as extra—funny and good.
"Heh, HD makes it look sleek, huh?"
"'Cause you nailed every role?"
"Not that narcissistic. Though I bragged back then."
She chuckled, handed back the phone. Eyes met clear, then shyly averted.
"Um... hey."
"Yeah."
"Today... was pretty good. No expectations, but I got into it."
Past-themed date worked. Thought that was it—a slight thaw, thanks—then grab! She snatched my hand, playing nonchalant.
"Uh... we're touching?"
"I know! So this is..."
Exhale. Tension release. "...If you're gonna do it, do it."
"...Pardon?"
"Whatever you wanna do to me right now, do it."
Frustrated face. She'd braced for disappointment, hated falling for it.
"I won't be some thief who takes this and runs. Your cash and effort make me uncomfortable... So if you want something, hurry up."
"Something I want?"
"You said it before! Touch if you wanna touch, fuck if you wanna fuck!"
Age made her blunt. Yet her tough tone hid girlish blush.
I just smiled. At the blatant chance, lips curved like a crescent moon.
"Save the highlight for later."
Unexpected; her eyelids fluttered. Suspicion spiked.
"...Not what you wanted?"
"Was gonna, but holding off."
"Why?"
"Wanna get to know you more."
"......"
Goosebump gag: "Urk." No further snark.
"Rather than buying it with money, I want when you really want it, noona."
"...We're meeting 'cause of a contract."
"Contract says meetings only—no sex clause. Your call as an option."
"Wanna get scammed?"
"If you want, go for it. I'm cool either way."
"......"
Her expression nuanced. Unsure how to take my shift, she turned away.
"...Do what you want, idiot."
Averse toss-off. But I knew. Fuu... Her holding back while loving it is so damn hot. She'd spread her legs herself someday. Heat her cynical heart till it melted, make her jump me. Revive those MILF romance cells. Lick and suck till she realized: she's still a hot bitch. Clench! For this MILF, I'd strike at her prettiest moment. Vow to fuck her doggy with my fanboy memories.
"Shall we head out?"
"Yeah... Ran hard, starving."
Smooch♥ Start with the hand, ease in. Slowly burrow into the MILF's heart.