“See you in September. The Chief Designer will be in touch separately soon.”

“Thank you.”

“Then we’ll be off.”

We exchanged polite bows and parted.

The moment Seokhwan stepped out to see the luxury brand rep off, a ruckus exploded in the conference room.

“W....”

The sound leaking out of me.

“Wahahahaha! Ahahaha!”

“Ugh. I hate that laugh.”

“Hahahaha!”

“Absolute worst...”

The two youngest whispered their slander, but I couldn’t be bothered.

Who would get mad at a few insults when gold was practically floating in front of their eyes?

“My god, my god...”

A rack stuffed with clothes the luxury house’s designer had sent.

I scampered up, took a deep sniff, and flicked through the hangers.

“Unreal—he and I must be on the same wavelength. How did he pick nothing but my taste?”

“...”

“That’s it. I’m trying one on.”

A hand thumped down on the one grabbing a hanger.

“...”

“Biju?”

“No...”

Biju threw his small body over the rack and cried with feeling.

“I can’t let this happen...! Do you know how many years of endurance it took to declutter your closet?!”

No sooner had he finished than the others darted in front of me too.

Four of them, blocking me like they were shouting, “I object to this marriage!”

Tears glistened, like they were telling me this, at least, must never happen. Anyone would think I was about to commit a crime.

“C’mon, guys.”

“Don’t listen. If we hear him out we’ll lose.”

“Back, you fork-tongued snake!”

“A snake! A snake!”

They glared like little Adams guarding against a serpent offering a bite of forbidden fruit. I smiled.

“Now, open your ears and hear me out.”

“Block him!”

“My beloved juniors. You might not like those clothes. But they’re a gift from the Chief Designer of a French luxury house, right?”

“...That’s... true.”

“Then they’ll expect some acknowledgement that we wore them, right? What’s the best way to thank a designer who made you clothes?”

Their ears perked up in spite of themselves.

“You put them on and post a fit shot on social. Show the public me wearing what he sent—say thank you, properly.”

“Okay... that’s... reasonable.”

“So what do we do? We wear them and shoot photos.”

“...”

They blinked and edged aside, faces uncertain.

“It isn’t wrong, so why does it feel so icky.”

“But are you really going to wear that?”

Of course.

Ignoring the muttering behind me, I scanned Jimmy Robbins’s gifts.

I was hunting for something summer-appropriate when one piece called to me, like it was wrapped in a pale aura.

“This one. It’s calling me.”

“Choose me, master...!”

With Junhyun providing narration, I picked a T-shirt printed ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) with a gorgeous red-tulip floral.

A beam of holy light shone from somewhere.

“I turned on another light, guys.”

From somewhere, the Libera boys’ choir sang “Sanctus.”

“Whew... I need this just to calm down.”

It felt like, in a dark void, only that T-shirt and I were floating, clutching each other as we drifted.

I could almost hear Jimmy Robbins.

-Do you hear my heartbeat? Do you feel my heart resonating with yours?

-Yes. I do.

I hugged the shirt and smiled, blissed out.

“Stop being cringe and put it on.”

“Yes, sir...”

I whipped off my old tee; the kids yelped and averted their eyes.

Souffles love it when my clothes flutter on stage and a hint of abs shows.

“I’m dressed. You can look now.”

“Phew...”

They creaked their heads back around.

I lifted my phone, checked myself in selfie mode, satisfied—when—

“...”

“...”

Their sudden silence made me ask,

“What?”

“...Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

Biju stared blankly, raised his phone.

“It looks good on you...”

“Really?”

I was stunned—no one had ever said that to me in my life.

And it wasn’t just Biju. The others were wearing the same expression.

Five minutes earlier, the four of them had been in despair.

“We finally phased out florals... we literally bribed him with chocolate milk to get here.”

“Maybe we should just toss him into a flowerbed.”

“Does that French guy have no sense?”

“If he asks for selfies together, I’m dodging him for a while...”

They’d suffered so much pulling flowers out of Sun Wooju’s wardrobe.

Honestly, being bad at dressing wasn’t the issue. Celebrities don’t have to be stylish 24/7.

The problem was someone bad at dressing with an immovable philosophy.

-The flower on top is red, so shouldn’t the pants be red?

-What’s wrong with hiking boots with a suit? Practical. The dirt looks diligent too, no?

-It’s at home—what’s wrong with a kimchi vest? Is it really that bad?

...How many fights had that caused.

Seeing the outfits stylists put him in for official schedules was a relief.

The problem was street clothes.

His daily wear. Even that had improved lately; they’d filled his closet with things they bought.

-He pairs tops and bottoms weird, so we made full sets on the hanger—top, bottom, accessories.

They’d set each hanger with the whole look.

The old floral stuff had been “handled” when he filmed a sitcom last year.

He’d protested, but after years together, the kids knew how to steer their leader.

-The Souffles hate that outfit.

-...They do?

Say “the fans don’t like it,” and the eldest’s pupils would quake, and he’d quietly ditch it.

They’d been riding that lever just fine...

Then a French designer appeared and ruined everything.

The joy at their leader’s runway debut flew away, replaced by a buzzing hive of new worries. It was like hundreds of tiny Sun Woojus with floral shirts cackling and rummaging through their brains.

“Ugh, my head.”

Rihyuk rummaged in Junhyun’s Doraemon bag for painkillers, then froze.

“Hm?”

The others’ reactions were off.

And—

“Huh?”

Rihyuk turned—and reacted the same way.

A tulip-print tee.

Sparkling with inlaid rhinestones—an unusual design, arguably.

“Am I seeing things?”

He rubbed his eyes.

No.

Why on earth—

“Why does it look good?”

“It looks good on me?”

Even the man himself was baffled.

Checking himself in selfie mode, the leader asked back,

“Feels the same as my usual stuff. Is this actually better?”

“...It suits you.”

He hated to admit it—but it did.

It was the kind of fashion that could come off “too much,” yet on Sun Wooju it looked picture-perfect.

Like those slightly quirky but trendy civvies top models wear.

Broad shoulders from training.

The way the tee fell under those squared lines.

A flashy design matched to a striking face... he looked like a real model.

“Wow...”

While Seo Rihyuk stared, Kim Biju snapped away.

“Insane. It’s floral, and it works!”

The maknae jumped in.

“Can I brag to my friends with this pic? This is wild. Hyung, can I borrow that sometime?”

Click, click.

As the two snapped, the leader giggled and struck pose after pose.

Junhyun lifted a film camera to study the flowers like landscape practice.

“Our hyung’s insane.”

Biju’s eyes cleared; the RainAlchol self snapped awake.

“How does even that look good? Clothes others can’t pull off. He could walk a runway like this.”

After a hundred shots, Biju shouted,

“Hyung! Try the next one!”

“Should I?”

Praise makes even whales dance, they say.

Trotting like a little deer, the leader changed into look after look; the members could only gasp.

“Crazy!”

“Oh? That one’s nice too.”

“Hyung! Can I borrow that in fall? That’s peak in-crowd.”

Like a puppy on praise, he bounced and posed, thrilled.

“He’s like Baekgu back home.”

With a fond smile, Junhyun stepped up.

“Can I try one?”

“Mm...”

“I’ll just throw it on once. I’m curious.”

Under the leader’s wary eyes—maybe worried he’d blow out a seam—Junhyun put it on.

The boos arrived immediately.

“Ugh, tacky. Kim Junhyun, hard pass.”

“Hyung! Take it off!”

He nodded and peeled it off fast.

It was curiosity.

“So it is a ‘not for everyone’ piece.”

At first he’d thought the clothes were simply good. But no. The leader’s face was carrying them.

Same for non-floral patterns.

Only Jiho—closest in build to Wooju—could kind of pull it off.

Realizing these were “not for just anyone” pieces, the members’ faces flashed with shock.

“If even that looks fashionable on him...”

How off must his sense be to choose clothes that overpower even his own face.

“Hm? What’s with you guys?”

“...Nothing.”

The foursome newly grasped just how strange their leader’s prior picks had been.

Meanwhile—

Souffles, roaming their usual stan spaces.

“Ugh. Nothing to do...”

They skimmed Pyeongchang dance clips on MeTube, then drifted through the internet in a fog.

“Truly nothing.”

They watched overseas-tour behinds dropping one by one.

Scrolled the official tour photos.

Turned on TV for NewBlack variety when bored, or looped NewBlack TV’s Souffle Bell. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

[DOOONG—]

[Souffle... Souffle......]

It was a Souffle Bell BGM used for meditation.

Every time mini-Junhyun struck a bread-shaped bell, harmonized voices went, [Souffle...].

As Souffles ran the one-hour loop, fresh bait dropped.

[Right now on official SNS: Sun Wooju’s floral fashion (viewer discretion advised)]

Souffles screeched.

“No...! Not florals again!”

They’d been so relieved not to see florals lately.

But it seemed Wooju had fallen back in love with them.

“Does the agency do nothing?”

They clicked, ready to chant “Grow a spine, Gyuho.”

But—

“Huh?”

Something was off in the attached SNS cap.

@thenewblack.official

(photo of Sun Wooju looking like a painting in a floral-pattern tee.jpg)

Did you know? The tulip’s flower language is “eternal love.”

Let’s have a lovely day, us.

♡ Likes 873,987

Souffles staring at the photo felt... no dissonance.

“Hm?”

Why?

Why didn’t he look weird in florals?

-Hold on.. I came in to roast Gyuho but why is this normal

-I was ready to type “confiscate Sun Wooju’s florals” but now I’m confused lol

-This isn’t right

-:O

-I panicked because I only saw the face... usually with Wooju my eyes go to the clothes first, not the face

-It’s honestly pretty??

-That’s a piece most people can’t pull off and he’s pulling it off; makes me wonder what the past was then

-Finally, “fashion completes on the face”

-Even if he drapes a tablecloth, it becomes fashion, okayㅠㅠㅠㅠ

Other idol fans gaped, and Souffles, flustered, buzzed loudly.

[Maybe we just needed time to adjust?]

Actually, Wooju’s fashion sense was good.

Maybe the past four years were his evolution window?

Souffles were nodding along—right up until a Y-app live changed the vibe.

[Fresh Y-app live cap]

(gif of Rihyuk smacking Wooju’s back for making high-waisted dad-pants by tucking in his tee.gif)

Wooju tucked his tee and made dad pants

-Nope... zero growth

-Someone post “Teacher An, please” meme

-Of course it turned out like this

-Let’s just say the clothes were good..ㅠㅠ lol

-NewBlack are known for dressing well, but lol how come

-(manga panel: “When five humans gather, one is trash.”.jpg)

-So you all hate Wooju dressing badly?? lol I love it so he’s my husband

-say what ㅗㅗㅗㅗㅗㅗㅗ

-If you marry him you get four sisters-in-law and your in-laws are the entire nation

While they debated whether his fashion had actually leveled up,

Souffles got curious.

“But what are those clothes that we can’t even search?”

Usually if NewBlack wears something, you can find it instantly; this time, no dice.

They looked luxury... but searches turned up nothing.

“What are they?”

Sensing there was something there, fans’ eyes lit up.

There’s that radio ad about getting confidence by enrolling in an online university.

That’s right.

I had gained confidence.

“Mwahaha!”

In the tulip tee studded with sparkly stones, I felt confidence blasting out of me.

If it were a number, I’d broken the cap.

I strutted through the company in it.

“Hello! I’m here to show off my clothes~!”

I swung by PR to show off my beautiful outfit; jaws dropped.

“Wow. I thought the SNS pic was heavily edited... it’s real?”

“Pretty.”

“Those florals are welcome.”

It was a very happy day.

Until now, whenever I wore florals, people at the company would narrow their eyes and tsk.

This one was a floral to be proud of.

Feeling like bowing toward Paris, I made the rounds of A&R and Producing.

“But why are the lights off?”

“Saving power~”

“To anyone listening to my footsteps, it sounds like...”

“Woooow! Wooju, that outfit’s gorgeous!”

Producers and A&R staff were positive too.

The maknae asked,

“Should we go show the CEO?”

“Nope. That’s... a bit much.”

I shook my head, picturing how stiff he gets whenever we pop in.

I kept asking everyone I met, “How’s the outfit?”

While I grinned around, Rihyuk and Jiho grabbed my fluttering hem.

“H-hey!”

“Mm?”

“Scarlet are coming!”

“Oh!”

Right—Scarlet!

I waved at the four-member girl group in the distance and was about to show off—

“Why do they look so menacing...”

Like Liu Bei, Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Zhuge Liang racing to kill Cao Cao.

Ssssslide!

Why was Nayoon’s face closing in so fast?

As her big-boulder face bulldozed perspective and shrank the distance, I blinked—

“Sun Woojuuu!”

“I have waited for this day, you punk!”

Ara’s shout jolted a memory.

The one fact I’d forgotten, drunk on new clothes:

-This escape-room special is going to be very scary. Any guests to recommend?

-There’s a four-member squad with S-tier reactions.

Our senior girl group had been booked as guests for the most terrifying special in the history of the escape variety show “From Now, We—”.

“Junhyun...!”

“Yes.”

“Buy me time to run!”

“I can’t hold them long...!”

I watched, heart aching, as my juniors were swept away like shafts of light in Scarlet’s wave—and bolted.

Five minutes later.

“Whew.”

The four-member girl group brushed off their hands, looked at the juniors they’d split into quarters, then scanned the area.

Maknae Daisy whipped her twin tails like a whirlwind.

“Where’d that oppa go?”

“Kids. Where did Wooju run?”

At main vocal Bom’s gentle question, Rihyuk smirked, wiping his mouth.

“Hmph. You’ll never find him. He may look flighty, but his stealth is top-tier. He probably used camouflage.”

“Damn.”

Scarlet’s members narrowed their eyes, hunting Sun Wooju.

NewBlack wore eerie smiles, mocking the attempt—

“Hm?”

Scarlet’s main dancer, Lina, idly glanced around, then pointed with a long finger.

“Look behind that planter.”

“Huh?”

“Something’s glittering behind the plants... like clothes shining?”

“What are you talking about? Why would clothes—”

Sparkle, sparkle.

“...”

“...”

Our eyes met in midair—me, sparkling behind the planter; Scarlet, staring back.