A Favor at the VIP Fashion Show
Because of Mother's words that it was best to keep the department store's VIP status, she made a point of visiting every month, even if by force, and dropping a few million won each time. Anyway, the top tier anywhere cost around 100 or 200 million won a year as a benchmark, so as long as she exceeded half of that, they treated her decently enough. She had little interest in luxury brands, but she kept it up for the events in the exclusive lounge and the gatherings of higher-ups. By attending charity auctions or their private fashion shows, she could familiarize herself with the rotating cast of VIPs and reach out early to promising companies—just like how she could spot potential clients here.
There was no need to drag her employees along to these events and give them a sense of relative deprivation.
"Hello. Right this way, please."
"Sure."
Instead of the sturdy domestic SUV she used for work, she'd driven her solid, unflashy Volvo. Her body was healthier than anyone's, but she preferred the cushy, enveloping seats favored by elders over the back-straining ones in sports cars. Putting plush seats in a sports car? That'd be like calling a gay guy straight—worthy of ridicule.
The guided path upstairs didn't cross a single regular customer; it was eerily quiet.
"Lots of people upstairs?"
"Yes. It's the debut of this summer's first collection, so more than half are here."
"That's unusual."
"Sorry about that. The organizers specifically requested a full house."
People lumped under the VIP label generally sought leisure and exclusivity, so events rarely filled more than half capacity. If it got too crowded, they'd split by tier and push the rest to the next day. Luxury brands were especially strict about it. No one wanted the type forcing out ten million won to keep their status rubbing elbows with those casually dropping over a hundred million.
"Whoa, this is amazing..."
"Oppa, look at that."
That was why—it got too damn noisy.
"Hmm... this designer's trying something bold this time."
"Seems like it..."
A department store had to balance corporate and consumer needs. Otherwise, the staff could only respond with an awkward smile, like now.
She picked up a glass of the trendy sparkling wine. Non-alcoholic, of course.
As she waded slowly into the crowd, unfamiliar faces glanced her way. She smirked once at the eyes flicking from face to chest, then settled into a chair in the corner.
"Hey, if you're here, at least act like you know me—don't just sit alone."
"Ow."
Her friend approached from across the room and poked her side. They'd gone to the same middle and high schools, and with names so similar—Seo-ah and Seon-ah—they'd been lumped together ever since, destined never to drift apart.
"Hanging with me blocks your marriage prospects. Shoo, go away."
"Heard that from someone again, huh? Being next to a big-chested girl is a perk."
She didn't hide her abilities much, so those around her knew she had some kind of gift. When helping a bachelor fend off five women chasing his friend, it was easier to say she had spiritual powers than explain otherwise.
"Came to check out the latest trends, but it's too noisy."
"Designer's chasing that post-COVID vibe of people craving gatherings again. I don't know fashion well myself."
"Must've gotten approval from the higher-ups."
"Heard they're gearing up for a real showdown with competitors this summer. Designers have been sniping at each other."
The department store's broad VIP spectrum had enabled this mess, apparently. Half came to brag to partners; the other half to find one.
She listened to Seon-ah's quiet chatter over sweet grape wine, then stared her down. No intention of returning to her own group.
"Tch. Gotta buy something to meet VIP quotas, but this vibe kills my shopping mood."
"Can't be helped. Rumors say other brands are jumping on the trend too."
It wasn't the clothes—it was the scene. Too many newbie guys eyeing her like she was fresh meat for a one-night stand. Still too goddamn annoying for that.
A store clerk passed out paper checklists and fountain pens. Mark any outfits from the mini fashion show that caught your eye.
Always screaming "cyber" and "AI," yet analog as hell for this.
"Not going back to your group? Just watching from here?"
"Yeah. Go there, and it's nonstop nagging about when I'll get a boyfriend. Like good guys are everywhere."
"Fair enough."
"You telling me to date these days too?"
"Yeah, but I'm dodging 'cause I hate it. Way too early for guys."
"Exactly."
Traces of her past life as a man made accepting a guy's parts feel viscerally wrong. Stepping into that scene spiked her anxiety, like her inner ego would shatter under the assault. Different from her single friends' desire for freedom.
Low music pulsed as models from the back emerged in profound designs, circling the marked path.
Her ample chest ruined every look: either the hem lifted at the belly or stretched taut when pulled down. What good was being Europe's top designer for Korea if the fabric was cheap Chinese or Vietnamese?
"Anything you like?"
"Tch... this one's kinda meh. Their in-house philosophy's fine, but who wears that in summer?"
"You think?"
Models with perfect proportions pulled it off; on normals, it'd be a sack. At least the ankle-high shoes for rain were decent.
"Now that you say it, it all looks meh to me too."
"Not 'looks meh'—it is meh."
Maybe just her take. The room buzzed with buyer's enthusiasm—surprisingly safe bet, then. Enviable flat chests.
She checked a long wallet to gift Mother when Seon-ah started glancing sideways, like she had something to say. The friend, unused to asking favors despite her position, still looked embarrassed. Time to shed that for true socialite status.
Pretending to focus on bags and wallets from the models, she broached it casually.
"Spit it out—what's up?"
"Just... your senses still sharp, right?"
"Same as always. Why?"
"My friend started dating a guy. Want you to check him out and judge."
"Tch... you know I don't like chiming in on that stuff. Watched enough of your messy breakups up close."
"Still... he feels off. Just a quick look—I'll handle the talking."
Even saying that, it felt sticky. Casual dating advice was fine, but goal-oriented types were vicious. She'd had exes track her down later, accusing interference—or worse, coming with knives claiming she knew their secrets. Of course, her casual attitude back then led to it; the uncles dragged them off, never seen again.
"Hmm..."
"Just look, and I'll gift you whatever you like from here."
"Fine, for you—but make sure he doesn't come sniffing around later."
"Obviously."
Just check for bad vibes, as a friend asked—who could refuse? She hated being treated like a possessed shaman elsewhere, but it was a one-off, and it didn't wear out her powers.
Grateful, Seon-ah snatched her checked paper.
As the mini show wrapped, clerks collected sheets and reached them.
"Send the checked items to her place. Gift wrap, simple."
"Yes, ma'am."
"That's okay? Mom nags about overspending."
"Pfft, if I can't buy this, I'll just move out. Heh."
Not some listed mega-corp, but daughter of a famed antique dealer with underworld clout. They traded gold, jewels, even forex at corporate-scale profits. Perfect timing—she had gold to offload.
"Learning Dad's trade or not, running away's all the same."
"At least no Mom nagging. You did it too."
"True."
Worlds and lives apart, but parental love hit the same notes. Intelligent beings were all alike.
Giggling over their plain faces and wine, they drew playful-cheering stares from distant guys. One approached, and she sighed, realizing Seon-ah hung with such rude types here.
"Um..."
Before he could speak, watching staff swooped in.
"Both of us have boyfriends, so don't waste our time."
"Ah..."
He looked like he wanted to say more, but not enough spine to risk ejection for bothering others.
Interest vanished at his cowardice.
"This place is done. Head out with your friends and chat there."
"Got it."