Chapter 8

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 8

Chapter Title: I Became a Married Woman at 18 [08]

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As soon as we arrived on the underground tenth floor, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠people were bustling about frantically.

Some were urgently making calls somewhere.

Others paced back and forth with anxious expressions.

It was only after Seo-rin, the president herself, calmly explained the situation that the atmosphere finally settled down.

The chaotic scene made me feel overwhelmed, so I kept my mouth shut. I just stood off to the side, watching quietly.

...I really went and did it.

It'll be fine, right? It has to be.

Looking back now, it felt a bit reckless...

Everyone on set was staring at me.

Their gazes felt like they were appraising me...

My heart pounded wildly.

My fingertips grew ice-cold.

Cold sweat trickled down my spine.

I wanted to run away from here.

Calm down. Calm down...

Stay composed, composed...

I steadied my breathing.

In the past, the weight of it all would have crushed me, making me bow my head. But not anymore.

I lifted my chin and straightened my back.

I faced the countless eyes head-on. I forced my trembling fingertips to still.

I repeated to myself inside.

Ye-rin had told me.

Yu-na, you're not ordinary-looking.

You can have confidence.

That's when Seo-rin quietly took my hand.

She must have noticed my tension.

A warm, firm grip.

That warmth spread from my palm, up my arm, and through my whole body.

My racing heart began to settle, bit by bit.

The person I love is right here in front of me, isn't she?

I don't want to look pathetic in front of her.

I don't want to disappoint myself, either.

The days of hiding behind Mother's skirts are over.

Now, I'll step forward boldly.

One step at a time, even if it's slow...

"She's a great model. Like the Peach Princess herself."

Someone said it.

It was a man with sunglasses, brushing back his blond hair. He exuded a sophisticated yet free-spirited vibe.

Ah, that's him.

The director Seo-rin had struggled to book.

Sato Takumi. Even I, who doesn't know much about this field, had heard of him.

Rumors said he had a sharp eye and a unique style.

They say anything passing through his hands—even ordinary material—turns into art.

He's unrivaled in advertising.

Nine times out of ten, those ads you see on TV or the streets that make you think, "This is good," are his work.

He's Japanese ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but loves Korean culture, so his Korean is fluent, I'd heard.

And sure enough, he spoke naturally without a hint of awkward accent.

"P-Please take good care of me. I'm Sung Yu-na."

"Good energy. Shall we get started? Prep her quickly."

Before I could even respond, I was hurriedly dragged to the dressing room.

After that, it was a blur. The moment I sat in the chair, someone peered right into my face.

"Your skin is flawless. Just a light base will do."

No sooner had she spoken than a cold sponge patted my cheeks. Someone else fiddled with my hair.

"Pink hair for real? I thought it was dyed!"

She picked up a strand, examining it curiously from every angle.

"We should keep this color as is."

"How are her nails?"

Someone grabbed my hand suddenly.

"Well-maintained. Just a fresh coat of manicure."

Hands moved all over me at once.

One applied shadow to my eyelids, another picked lipstick shades. Someone held clothes from the rack against my body.

"What about a dress?"

"No, a blouse might be better."

"Isn't the color too bold?"

Voices came from all directions. I just sat still, moving as they directed—lifting my head when told, extending my hand when asked.

In the blink of an eye, everything was done.

I stumbled out of the dressing room in a daze.

My steps halted in front of a full-length mirror in the hallway.

The reflection staring back...

Was that really me?

This is what a professional touch looks like.

Bright yet natural makeup.

It made my face stand out even more.

My pink hair was elegantly styled, gleaming with luster.

Takumi nodded in satisfaction. Seo-rin blinked, staring at me blankly.

What? Is it that surprising?

I wanted to run over and tease her right then.

But there was no time.

We had to wrap the shoot as fast as possible. Swallowing my regret, I stepped onto the set.

A pastel pink backdrop, a pretty box filled with heart-shaped chocolates, complete with ribbons and lace.

Glamorous lighting enveloped everything.

It felt like a romantic stage where a princess might appear—like a scene from a fairy tale.

Whoa... This is a real shoot set.

It was on another level from photos or videos I'd seen. Seeing it live made it even more dazzling and beautiful.

I swallowed hard to moisten my parched throat. It finally hit me.

I'm really doing this model gig.

A tremor and excitement surged from deep in my chest.

I was nervous, but a strange anticipation bubbled up too.

"Please pick up the chocolate on the table."

"...Yes!"

"Good. Now smile just like that."

"L-Like this?"

"Not enough. More affectionate expression."

Again. Again. Again.

NG after NG.

Cold sweat soaked my collar.

Capturing the emotion was way harder than I'd thought.

What Takumi wanted wasn't just a simple smile.

The feeling of wanting to give it to someone you love.

Conveying a girl's fluttering emotions through your eyes and expression—that was the heart of this shoot, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠said.

Someone you love...

It wasn't easy to make the face on cue.

Forcing a smile made it look awkward.

Trying to do it naturally got me complaints of lacking feeling.

I had no idea how to nail it.

Sweat seeped from my hands gripping the chocolate box.

Isn't there a good way...

My wandering gaze stopped.

And I found her.

Those black eyes looking at me.

It was Seo-rin.

Standing at one side of the set, hands clasped tightly, watching me.

I'm the nervous one, so why do you look even more shaken?

A laugh bubbled up unbidden.

The answer was right under my nose.

I slowly looked at Seo-rin.

Only her...

The camera, director, staff—all faded away. Only she remained.

I cradled the heart-shaped chocolate preciously and parted my lips like a confession.

Praying this feeling reaches you.

A smile spread naturally across my lips.

I felt my cheeks flush faintly.

"I'm sending you all my love."

With that line, a breathless silence fell. The director, staff—everyone stood frozen for a long moment.

Did it work?

I squeezed my eyes shut in anxiety.

That was when it happened.

Clap—clap—clap—

Someone started applauding.

It was Takumi.

The famously picky director was smiling in satisfaction.

"Excellent. Perfect. That was exactly the vibe I wanted. Sung Yu-na, right?"

"Yes!"

A sigh of relief escaped me.

"Seeing that performance just now changed my mind."

"What do you mean...?"

Takumi took off his sunglasses, his expression serious.

"There's an ad gig in Japan. Interested?"

"Japan?"

The sudden offer threw me off.

Japan? That felt like too much.

I was about to politely decline when...

Takumi gestured for a staff member to bring something.

Moments later, they carefully carried over...

A kimono.

Whoa... What is that?

Did a human really make it?

A pale sky-blue silk base embroidered with subtle cherry blossom patterns. Pink edging and a red obi sash for accent, with delicate petals fluttering along the sleeves.

Clearly no ordinary item. The fabric's texture, embroidery density, color harmony—nothing was half-hearted.

"Made by a famous Japanese artisan. Cooperate with the shoot, and it's yours."

"...Huh?"

They're giving me that?

It was priceless, no doubt.

SNS would explode if I posted it.

I want it.

It'd look so cute on me.

I want it.

I want it.

"No pressure, of course. But..."

I nodded before he could finish.

"I-I'll do it!"

...Huh?

Wait, what did I just say?

Huh? Huh? Huh?

Did I go and do it again?

My steps home after cram school felt heavy.

Body and mind exhausted. Exams were creeping closer, and homework piled up like mountains.

This routine is getting old.

I trudged along listlessly, then happened to look up.

A massive billboard on a building facade caught my eye.

An ad I'd normally ignore stopped me dead.

A girl against an onsen ryokan backdrop.

Pink from head to toe.

Light pink hair, pink eyes, and a flowing kimono.

She sat primly on tatami, smiling gently at the camera. Cherry blossoms bloomed outside the window, with a clear valley stream beyond.

"She's beautiful."

I stared up at the billboard, entranced.

Like a princess. Like a fairy.

Does someone like that really exist?

CG? AI-generated?

"Who is she?"

The moment I got home, I plopped in front of the computer without even dropping my bag. Shibuya onsen ad, pink-haired model, Japanese hot spring CM...

Searched every keyword, but no easy info on the actress. Where is it? Where?

After scouring the net forever, I finally dug up a name.

Sung Yu-na.

Korean.

Strangely, typing her name brought a flood of articles.

With Takumi's new CM announcement, online communities were buzzing in real-time.

I watched the comments climb with every refresh.

I wasn't the only one captivated.

The pink girl on screen...

Had already stolen countless hearts.