The Proposal
A week passed far more quickly than expected.
Bzzzt—
Ara, who lived with her phone practically glued to her hand, answered before the first vibration even finished.
"Yes, CEO."
"Ara, I'm almost there. Come down in five minutes."
"Got it."
Click—
The entire conversation had been that simple.
"Today's fashion."
The absolute pinnacle of frumpiness.
Baggy gray sweatpants swallowed her legs whole, rendering any guess at her figure impossible. On top, a matching hoodie in the same washed-out gray. And because it had gotten properly cold by now, she'd thrown a black outer layer over the whole ensemble. She'd considered slippers, but that felt a little too rude, so she finished the look with a pair of sneakers thrown on without much thought.
No accent pieces. No points of interest. Nothing.
Hood pulled up, Ara stepped out of the house.
Meanwhile, Jeong Yeo-un was on his way to pick her up.
"Aigoo. Of course everyone's booked solid today. I really need to hire more people."
In a company this small, any gap in the staff roster had to be filled by the boss himself.
Honestly, Jeong Yeo-un had spent the past week drowning in regret.
"No matter how I look at it, I gave her way too much."
The more he thought about it, the more he felt like the biggest sucker alive. Once that thought sank its claws in, it ballooned at terrifying speed, dragging every other anxious notion along with it.
"Haah… Why the hell did I do that?"
It had been pure emotion over reason. Like a man bewitched by a nine-tailed fox, he'd handed over his liver, his gallbladder—everything.
"Still… she's gorgeous, and they say she can act. I should at least break even, right?"
But would that even happen within a year…?
He hadn't seen her act with his own eyes, of course—but she had already proven something on her own.
"She passed the audition. Got cast straight into a supporting role. That has to count for something…"
The contract was already signed. The signing bonus had already been deposited in full. No take-backs. The die was cast.
And so, after a full week of wandering somewhere between regret and hope, Jeong Yeo-un finally saw Ara again.
There is a thought experiment called Schrödinger's cat. Until the moment of observation, every possible outcome exists simultaneously—and only upon being observed does reality collapse into a single result. Until then, the box holds nothing but pure imagination, utterly unpredictable.
Why bring that up now?
Because Jeong Yeo-un had just opened the box.
"Hello, CEO."
Inside was a future so dazzlingly bright it nearly blinded him.
Every last scrap of the regret he'd been stewing in scattered from his mind like dust in a sudden wind—whoosh.
"Oh—uh, yeah. You been well?"
"Yes."
"Get in. Let's go."
This is a jackpot. I knew it!
Oh. A foreign car. First time riding in one.
Each of them lost in their own thoughts, they headed for a certain shop in Cheongdam.
"By the way, Ara—I told you you didn't need makeup. They're just going to wipe it all off and start over anyway."
Of course, going barefaced as a woman could feel embarrassing. Especially for a celebrity. Looks were a powerful commodity, after all.
"Huh? I didn't put any on. You said I didn't have to."
"What? You're not wearing makeup?"
"Nope. Didn't even wash my hair."
You could've at least washed your hair… Wait, more importantly—
He was genuinely stunned. Not a single blemish on her skin. Even her eyelashes and the natural color of her lips—all of it was raw, unfiltered.
And those eyes are just cheating. The salon staff are going to lose their minds.
Once again, a fierce certainty rang through his head.
Citrin Salon, Cheongdam.
"Director, your appointment client will be here soon."
"Got it."
Gang Ji-yeon, the salon's director, had a lot on her mind. And the root of every worry was, of course, money.
Her salon had done well for a long time. She worked with real passion, always striving to deliver tailored service that suited each client. She had the talent to back it up, too—and as word of mouth spread, bookings filled up, and celebrities started dropping by regularly. Disciples eager to learn from her sprang up like mushrooms after rain. She expanded, opened a new location in Cheongdam with its high-end image, and successfully established herself there.
And yet she still fretted endlessly over money.
Because all of that was past glory.
These days, foot traffic at her salon was steadily declining. Not because her skills had dulled—because the public eye had shifted. People were sensitive to trends. Especially in Cheongdam. Even the hottest look from ten years ago eventually just looked dated.
It wasn't limited to hair and makeup, either. The same law applied to interior design. Newer competitors offered the same services but lured clients in with sleeker, more refined spaces. By now, her revenue depended almost entirely on the regulars who still came out of loyalty.
Remodeling was an option—except it would kill her income completely during construction, and there was no guarantee sales would bounce back afterward. On top of that, rent and labor costs climbed every year. She was barely keeping the lights on.
Haah…
Gang Ji-yeon let out a deep sigh. Even with a bleak future staring her in the face, she still came to work. She still had to eat today, after all.
And today, for the first time in a while, she had a celebrity makeup booking. A full million-won treatment—the single most expensive service her salon offered. This one appointment would just barely keep the month in the black.
"I wonder who's coming."
The reservation had been made by a proxy. First-time visit, they'd said. Not that it mattered who it was.
"I have to lock them in as a regular."
Celebrity makeup meant a celebrity, no question. People in that line of work spent serious money on their looks without blinking. Opportunities like this almost never came around.
Gang Ji-yeon steeled herself.
"Director, your appointment is here."
Time to prepare. Time to march onto a battlefield where survival was on the line.
She stepped out of her office and spotted two people waiting at a table. One was a man. The other had a hood pulled so low that even their gender was hard to place.
But what did that matter? They were precious clients. Greetings first.
"Hello. I'm Gang Ji-yeon, the director who will be handling your treatment today."
And then she saw.
"Hello. Looking forward to working with you."
A goddess, hidden inside a shell.
"Alright, Ara—call me when you're done. I'll be at a café nearby getting some work done."
"Yes, CEO."
The man beside her turned to Gang Ji-yeon.
"Please take good care of her, Director."
"Of course. I'll do my absolute best. Don't worry."
So he was her agency's CEO. The CEO himself came along. She must really be something special.
Gang Ji-yeon had seen her share of celebrities famous for their looks—but none of them had ever hit her with an impact this strong. Or rather: someone had, once. That someone had just been replaced.
The CEO left, and Gang Ji-yeon guided her client to a station.
"We'll start with a shampoo. Go ahead and take off your outer layer—I'll hold onto it for you."
"Okay."
Ara shrugged off her coat and pulled down her hood.
Swoosh—
The glossy black hair that had been hidden underneath spilled free.
"Wow…"
The sound escaped before she could stop it.
"Should I take the hoodie off too?"
"That would probably be best. The hood makes it easy to get wet. Oh—unless you'd rather not?"
In weather this in-between, plenty of women wore nothing but underwear under a hoodie.
"No, it's fine. Just a second."
Fortunately, she had a T-shirt on underneath. She peeled off the hoodie and handed it over.
What kind of broken OP character is this?
The face alone was one thing—but the figure faintly visible under that oversized short-sleeve tee was something else entirely.
"This way, please."
After stowing the clothes, Gang Ji-yeon personally escorted Ara over.
A little while later—
Whiiiiirrrrr—
The hair dryer spun without pause. On any ordinary day, shampooing and drying a client wasn't something the director did herself. But today was different. An important client. She needed to deliver the best service possible and leave them thoroughly satisfied.
And, if she was honest, this was personal greed too. When else would she get the chance to style someone like this? The withered senses and passion of a beautician were stirring back to life.
The full treatment took about two hours. In that time, client and stylist usually talked a great deal. With female clients, a few compliments on their appearance almost always landed well—ten times out of ten.
But this particular client required a different approach. One look at her and it was obvious she'd spent her entire life drowning in praise. Ordinary flattery would leave zero impact.
"Ara, was it? You haven't debuted yet, have you?"
"No. How did you know?"
"Someone like you would stick in a person's memory for life—and I don't recall ever seeing you. Hehe."
Compliment lightly. Extract information from the exchange.
"So you're an actress, then?"
"Yes. Spot on."
Well, it's usually either singer, actress, or model.
And something in her gut was certain: actress.
Gang Ji-yeon kept asking questions, and Ara answered each one. The more she asked, the more Gang Ji-yeon felt a twinge of disappointment.
She's not much of a talker. What a shame.
It wasn't about the information. Wanting to chat with someone beautiful was a basic human instinct. She simply wanted to learn more about Ara—but the girl only answered. She never asked a single question of her own.
Meanwhile, Ara's inner state was roughly this:
Beautiful curls taking shape in her hair. Cosmetics dancing an elaborate ballet across her face. Watching her own features and hair grow more stunning in real time was genuinely entertaining.
Except the director kept talking to her. It was like sitting down at a delicious restaurant and having the owner strike up a conversation every time you tried to take a bite. Honestly, a little uncomfortable.
Still—time flowed on. Two hours vanished in a blink.
Wow… I did this myself, and even I think this is a bit much.
Gang Ji-yeon had learned a truth today.
Even a plain stone lying on the roadside becomes beautiful and valuable once a master's hand carves it into sculpture. But when the raw material is already a gem—beautiful even in its uncut form—and a master's hand shapes it further, it becomes something more beautiful still.
An overwhelming, almost unfair difference of birth.
She had done the styling herself, and yet looking at this person filled her with a feeling she'd never had before. How to put it? If she absolutely had to force it into a single word—
Luminous.
And for that very reason, absurd.
She hadn't even done that much. The face was already so complete that all she'd needed was a base layer and a few slightly bolder lines. Everything else had gone into the hair.
"All done. You did great."
"Thank you."
She didn't show it, but Ara was equally stunned.
Holy shit. I look ridiculously pretty.
The director returned with the clothes she'd been holding.
"Thank you so much, Director."
"Not at all—it's my job. And honestly, I had more fun than I have in a long time."
After exchanging goodbyes, Ara called Jeong Yeo-un.
"Hey. You done?"
"Yes."
"Got it. Be right there."
Click—
Jeong Yeo-un really did arrive almost immediately.
"Hup—!"
And the moment he saw Ara, he nearly choked.
Oh my god. Holy crap!!!
You could cast a comedian with that face and still make it big.
"Let's go!!"
Once again, he felt it in his bones—his investment had not been a mistake. He was just about to head out for the profile photo studio when—
"Excuse me, CEO?"
Gang Ji-yeon, director of Citrin Salon, called out to him.
"Yes?"
There was no particular reason for her to speak to him. Payment had already been handled in full, upfront.
"Do you have a moment? There's something I'd like to discuss."
"With me?"
"No—with both you and Ara."
"Ah…"
Jeong Yeo-un checked the time. Still about an hour until the shoot. Factoring in travel—
"Thirty minutes should be fine."
"Thank you! Please, come into my office."
The two of them followed her in. And there, Jeong Yeo-un saw it—
"I'd like to propose that Ara become the model for our salon's pictorial."
—his own face from a week ago.
"Oh-ho. Is that so."
Grin—