The 100K Invitation

Likes were raining down nonstop on a photo that had been uploaded mere minutes ago.

By now, Dokgo Min was something of a famous name among the hipster crowd on social media. Ever since the photos of Han Yeo-reum — known far and wide as that ID photo, or that profile picture — had spread everywhere, her name carried weight.

This latest work had gone viral across the communities as well.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

The two of them started gaining followers on social media in real time!

"Dokgo Min really is on another level…."

I couldn't help marveling all over again. It was the same scene, but the moment it passed through Dokgo Min's hands, it became something entirely different.

You know the feeling. As if the world has suddenly slipped into slow motion — as if a single instant has been pressed and preserved under glass. The kind of photo that gives you that sensation.

"How is this the work of someone who hasn't even debuted professionally… an amateur, no less…."

It was several times more immersive than the photos Dokgo Min had shot of Do Gyeo-ul before my regression.

At this rate, these might rack up more likes than even our first collaboration — my profile picture — which had drawn quite the response when Dokgo Min posted it.

"There's been nothing worth mentioning since Pachehi ended, you know."

For about a week after the premiere of Pachehi, followers had piled on at a blistering pace — then the curve flattened out into a gentle slope. But the moment I posted the pictures Dokgo Min had taken, the follower count shot straight back up like a rocket.

Not just my and Dokgo Min's feeds — every major community's reaction thread was full of glowing comments. It was, unmistakably, an era where a single stunning photograph could brand you into people's memories.

"One hundred thousand, here we come…!"

Ding—!

I had just leapt to my feet without even thinking when I saw the number 100K.

"An invitation?"

An invitation to where? It wasn't awards season, and I didn't have a single project that would get me into an awards ceremony ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anyway.

I pressed View Now. A small envelope icon floated up.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

At the same time, my phone screen lit up with a vibration. The sender was Ju Jun-seo.

"Hello~."

—…What are you doing.

"Oh, nothing much. Did you need something, sunbae?"

—I can't call unless I need something?

No — it's not that — it's just that we're honestly not close enough for aimless chitchat… was what nearly came out of my mouth before I stopped myself. Instead, I dredged up the pleasantries we'd exchanged recently.

"You've been doing well, right? You seem like you have, which is great…. Is it because you've been taking acting lessons lately? Your diction is delivering beautifully."

Ju Jun-seo had a slightly similar streak to Chu Ga-eul. The moment you handed him a compliment, his edges visibly softened.

—Come help me pick out an outfit.

"…? An outfit?"

Why would Ju Jun-seo — an actual fashion model — ask me to go pick out clothes with him? Picking alone would be far better for him, surely.

When I asked again, genuinely baffled, there was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

—You've already selected your outfit?

"No, I mean… I'm not really sure what you're talking about."

Puzzled, I looked back over my status window.

Come to think of it, why won't that envelope icon disappear?

I tilted my head for a moment.

—The Le-el Style Awards. You and I were both invited. Did the notice not reach you?

There it was. The envelope shimmered — and proper text finally appeared.

Ding—!

Ah.

"…The outfit. Please let me pick it with you. As expected of Ju Jun-seo. The greatest sunbae alive. How do you keep looking out for a junior with no agency, reaching out like this…."

—…Yeah. Keep going.

"I'm so touched I can't even speak…."

Who hands out a brand-new mission when the terrestrial-network one isn't even finished yet?

After hanging up, I flopped onto my bed and sank into thought.

Best Dresser, huh.

I'd assumed it would be ages before I ever set foot on a red carpet.

A smile crept across my face at an opportunity arriving far sooner than expected.

"Let's go…! To pick out an outfit!"

This was Apgujeong Rodeo — the strip where major agencies lined up in a row across from Galaxia Department Store.

Under luxurious lighting, the garments hanging in perfect ranks glittered.

Realistically, Ju Jun-seo would never have reason to come here.

His name carried that much weight. Just the clothes the brands sent him unprompted, begging him to wear them, would fill a truck.

Which means this agency-hopping trip is entirely for my fittings….

By contrast, not a single garment was coming in for Han Yeo-reum. Which meant there was every chance each outfit I picked would get shot down. This was an industry where everything was judged by name value and rank, top to bottom.

And this place in particular is famous for being easy only for someone like Ju Jun-seo — notoriously stingy with sponsorships for anyone else….

The smell of money hit me right at the doorway. The gold-shimmering marble was almost blinding. I swallowed, just for a second.

"What are you doing? Get in here."

Ju Jun-seo looked completely at home in a place like this.

The vast space felt like a shopping mall transplanted wholesale into one building — a showroom that had claimed an entire structure for itself.

"Hello…."

I slipped quietly in behind Ju Jun-seo, and a staff member checking garments against a clipboard looked up.

"Oh! Jun-seo, you're here!"

A bright, energetic voice with not a trace of fatigue in it. The instant I saw her, I knew exactly who she was.

Why is that person here?

There was one word that inevitably attached itself to the famous: star.

Star chef, star writer, star PD… and among them, the most familiar to the public was the star stylist who stood at a celebrity's side.

…SSS Ryu Risa!

Ryu Risa — whom every actress and model on the rise supposedly dreamed of working with at least once — was a celebrity by the mere fact of her existence.

And later on, when the InTube era dawned, she'd be one of the biggest beneficiaries of all.

She opened her own channel and gathered a million subscribers. SSS Ryu Risa. I knew her well, since I'd been a subscriber myself.

And every time Do Gyeo-ul was crowned Best Dresser, Ryu Risa was right there behind it.

It was hardly an exaggeration to say the public saw her as Do Gyeo-ul's personal stylist, dedicated exclusively.

Movies, dramas, variety — and the award ceremonies on top of that.

Every buzzed-about styling of Do Gyeo-ul's had passed through Ryu Risa's hands.

…I want to steal her.

Someone of this caliber wouldn't become any single actor's dedicated stylist. Maybe if she managed several at once.

And yet, even so — I wanted her. Away from Do Gyeo-ul.

Because no matter how many actors work with the same stylist, only one name survives in the public's memory.

I wanted that name to be Han Yeo-reum, not Do Gyeo-ul. The desire to be the actress who made the star stylist crept up on me, curl by curl.

It was Do Gyeo-ul's outfits, year after year, draped in modifiers like "greatest of all time" and "legendary," that emerged from Ryu Risa's fingertips. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I remembered it well.

So — did Ju Jun-seo bring me here to Ryu Risa on purpose?

Ryu Risa gave a small jerk of her chin, and a rack prepared for Ju Jun-seo rolled out from the back.

"Unnie, let's start with this side first."

"Hmmm. Oh. It's Pi Chae-won, isn't it? I watched the drama. It was fun."

Ryu Risa closed in on me, seized my hand, and shook it vigorously. Caught in a surprisingly crushing grip, I wobbled back and forth like a rag doll.

"Haha! You're just like Pi Chae-won in real life! Not a single ounce of tension in your body!"

Chuckling, she patted my back a few times, then introduced herself.

"I'm Ryu Risa. Ring a bell? I'm famous, so I'd assume so."

"Of course. I know you well. Ju Jun-seo's legendary Mustang look — that was your work, Team Leader Ryu."

"Oh? You do know me."

I could feel her favorability climbing noticeably as I laid on the praise right from the start.

Subscribing to her was absolutely the right call.

Worth having liked the videos and turned on notifications, too. A good first impression, locked in.

"Well, honestly. My fee is a bit, you know? You get it. And I don't normally take just anyone on — let alone like this."

Right. Naturally, I got it. A fee that ran into the billions per project — I was well aware of her price tag.

"Unnie. You're the one who told me to bring her here first. How does it look, telling someone to their face they're 'just anyone'? And don't you remember when I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wore that brand's shirt you were pushing, just to help you out—"

"Shh. Jun-seo. Unnie is talking. You know you're not supposed to interrupt your elders."

Truly SSS, all right. She smoothed over everything Ju Jun-seo threw at her with effortless grace.

Ju Jun-seo stared at her in disbelief.

"Anyway, I'm kind of curious about Pi Chae-won here — Yeo-reum, I mean. That's why I told her to come. What exactly did she do to earn that rumor that Dokgo Gyeol followed her all the way out to the boonies? Hmm… She's cute, I'll give her that, but I'm a little bored?"

Just as that remark threatened to push Ju Jun-seo's irritation button—

Snap!

Ryu Risa gave a light flick of her fingers, pointed straight at me, and cried out:

"That's exactly why! Pick just one thing here and bring it to me."

"…One thing of what?"

"Anything. Eyewear's fine, shoes are okay too. A top, some other thing — anything at all. Pick whatever Yeo-reum wants to wear."

"…."

She grinned wide, as though she'd just discovered something very interesting.