Chapter 5: Light! Camera! Pose!

Kai sat cross‑legged on his bed, drowning in worksheets that looked like they’d been photocopied straight out of 2004. His room was quiet, the kind of quiet where even the air seemed to hold its breath. He’d told himself he’d knock out his assignments early, pretend life was normal, pretend he was just some random kid whose biggest problem was Algebra.

Then someone knocked.

Not the soft, friendly type. A firm, adult knock. The kind that always made Kai’s stomach drop because experience had taught him that knocks usually meant trouble.

He stood, smoothed his hoodie, and opened the door.

His father filled the doorway with his usual calm, polished smile.

The smile the world worshiped.

The smile Kai never trusted.

“Son,” his father greeted, warm voice layered with that CEO confidence magazines loved to praise. “How are you? How's school?”

Kai swallowed. “I’m fine. School was… okay. I’m still getting used to it. Being homeschooled for years kind of messed up the whole socializing thing.”

His father chuckled lightly, like Kai had said something adorable instead of sad. “But you did attend another school before this one.”

Kai shrugged. “There wasn’t much difference between that and being homeschooled.”

A lie. The difference was the murder accusation. But that was a memory he kept boxed up in his ribs.

His father nodded once, crisp and efficient. “Good. Today is Friday, yes?”

“Yes, Father.”

“So. Since you have no school tomorrow, I need you to help out at the company.”

Kai blinked. “Help out? Doing what?”

“For the winter collection, we’re short on models.”

A pause.

“We need all hands. You’ll model.”

Kai stared. “Dad… I was literally framed for murder last year. My name hasn’t been cleared. Everyone still calls me the monster child.” He motioned vaguely at the world outside. “Wouldn’t that be bad for the brand?”

His father waved it off almost gently. “Your face won’t be shown. The photos are concept‑focused. You only need to… wear the products.”

Kai’s jaw clenched.

Concept-focused.

Meaning he’d be treated like an object, not a person.

Typical.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll help with whatever you need.”

His father smiled, pleased. “I’ll have Martin send you the concept images. Brace yourself, Raejun.”

Kai flinched internally at the name. That cursed name that only his father’s side used. The name that felt too heavy and too royal and too not-him. But he bowed his head slightly.

“Yes, Father.”

His dad turned and walked away.

The footsteps faded.

The house fell silent again.

Kai exhaled, long and shaky, realizing only then that his breath had been locked in his lungs the entire conversation.

You’d think—based on the public photos plastered across Asia and America—that his father was some saintly fashion mogul.

Han Jaehyun, the legend behind RJ, the brand that ate runways for breakfast and was worshiped by influencers like a new religion.

People online talked about him like he was fashion royalty.

Which, honestly, he was.

But royalty always hides its monsters.

Kai looked nothing like that side of the family. He was the ocean kid, the one who inherited his mother’s Hawaiian-American warmth, her soft eyes, her freckles. She had named him Kai—ocean—because she said he had tides in his heart. He used that name everywhere. It felt safe.

But go to any family gathering on his father’s side, and suddenly it was,

Raejun this.

Raejun that.

Like he wasn’t a person, just a surname carved into a throne.

And now?

Now he’d agreed to model.

Not because he wanted to.

Not because it sounded fun.

But because saying no would’ve been a death sentence.

Not metaphorically.

Not dramatically.

Literally.

Han Jaehyun didn’t tolerate disobedience from his son. Kai knew that better than anyone.

He dragged himself back to his bed, finished his assignment in record time with hands that weren’t exactly steady, then pulled out his phone.

He texted Martin.

Kai: My dad said you’d send the concept.

Kai: Can you deliver it ASAP?

He tossed the phone aside and leaned back.

Winter collection.

No face.

Just body.

Just a ghost in designer clothes.

Great.

And still, underneath all that dread…

something inside him whispered that this weekend was about to rewrite more than a photoshoot.

----

Kai sat stiffly in the makeup chair while the artist dabbed under his eyes with a tiny sponge that smelled like lavender and capitalism. Kai tried not to squint, but the brush was basically poking his soul.

“Weren’t there supposed to be concept photos?” he muttered. “Why is my face getting makeup? Isn’t the whole point that nobody sees my face?”

The makeup artist didn’t even look offended. Just said, “Your father’s orders.”

And just like that, Kai shut up. Because arguing with his dad’s orders was basically signing your own obituary.

He sighed. Hard.

Martin, sitting one chair over, was getting eyeliner like he was auditioning for some chaotic boyband. Kai tilted his head at him.

“I’m here because I got dragged into this mess,” Kai said. “Why are you here?”

Martin clicked his tongue. “Because we’re supposed to have twenty models. Twelve bailed. And finding ten replacement models overnight is basically mythical-level impossible.” He flicked his hair dramatically. “So I filled in. You’re welcome. Also, I look good. Thank you very much.”

Kai stared at him. Blinked.

Then burst into laughter.

“You look what?”

“Good,” Martin repeated slowly, like Kai was the slow one.

Kai leaned back. “Who lied to you?”

Martin glared. “Don’t you dare.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Kai said innocently. “I’m just asking… who said you look good?”

The staff members nearby tried not to laugh. One snorted.

Martin threw a makeup sponge at him.

It was going great.

---

Twenty minutes later, Kai was thirsty enough to consider drinking the setting spray. So he slipped out of the dressing room, walking down the quiet hallway where half the lights were off because it was a Saturday and the building was basically on energy-saving mode.

The vending machine hummed at the end of the hallway like an oasis.

Kai focused on its glowing lights.

Water first. Then argue with Martin again. Priorities.

He was three steps away when a door behind him clicked open.

Kai turned, confused.

Before his brain could even form a thought, someone yanked him inside the dark room.

The door slammed shut.

Kai’s heart thudded. The air smelled like dust and carpet cleaner.

His fingers scrambled for the wall he knew had a switch. He flicked the light on—

And immediately wished he hadn’t.

Leaning against a shelf like he owned the whole damn universe…

Was Jaden.

Brown skin catching the light.

Eyes too calm for someone who regularly caused chaos.

Smile sharp.

He tilted his head, voice low like a secret you absolutely shouldn’t listen to.

“Hello, angel.”

Kai stared at Jaden like he’d just found a cockroach wearing designer sunglasses.

Annoyed wasn’t even the word. This boy was a human migraine with legs, and somehow he had multiplied inside his father’s building.

“I don’t wanna know what you’re doing here,” Kai said flatly. “I just wanna know why you shoved me in a room like some bargain-bin horror movie.”

Jaden’s grin sharpened. “So you don’t wanna know why I’m in your dad’s company?”

Kai rolled his eyes so hard his soul almost left his body.

“You’re creepy enough to stalk me already, since you’re dying to fix your disgusting b*tch in me. But no problem. Just avoid me. Because this”—he gestured around him—“is the worst place you could ever tease me. I’m telling you. Anywhere else? Go wild. But not here.”

Jaden blinked. “I wasn’t going to tease you. I was going to say you look good.”

Kai froze like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water at him.

“…What?”

Jaden shrugged, casual, maddening. “Plus, I’m your partner.”

Kai barked out a laugh. “Partner what? Did the teacher put us in a group project? ’Cause let me remind you, we don’t even share classes.”

“Not school partners,” Jaden said. “I mean work partners. I got a part-time job here. As a model.”

Kai stared. Then laughed again. Louder.

“As a what?”

“Model,” Jaden repeated, dead serious. “Got the gig from your boyfriend.”

Kai’s eyelid twitched.

Martin.

Martin who he hadn’t killed yet, but would. Soon.

Jaden leaned in. “Your boyfriend clearly wants us to be friends. I really hope he won’t mind if I hook up with you.”

Kai blinked slowly.

“You want to hook up with me?” His voice was sugar mixed with cyanide. “How about you go treat yourself first—”

“What does that mean—”

Kai didn’t let him finish.

He kneed him. Direct hit.

Jaden collapsed like someone unplugged his entire operating system, clutching himself and yelling silently.

Kai stepped past him, smiling like an angel with a criminal record.

“Guess you gotta fix it before you can put it in me. Whatever.”

He left the room, grabbed his drink from the vending machine, and walked toward the studio like nothing happened.

The studio hall was buzzing with staff prepping lights and fabrics, but the moment Kai saw his father standing near the backdrop, his spine automatically straightened. Every muscle pulled tight, like responding to a command he never got to refuse.

His father turned toward him, eyes sharp as polished steel.

“Where were you?” he asked.

Kai opened his mouth.

Then his father’s brows pinched.

“And why,” he said slowly, “are you smiling like that?”

The smile froze on Kai’s face.

He hadn’t realized it was still there.

He hadn’t realized Jaden’s stupid, chaotic presence had left an echo.

He forced the smile away instantly, dropping it like a hot coal.

“I… just got water,” Kai said.

His father stared at him for one long, slicing second.

Then nodded once.

Kai exhaled quietly.