The next hour was a blur of fabric, pins, and judgment.
We moved from the salon to a boutique that didn't have price tags on the clothes—a bad sign for my wallet, though Chae-rin assured me that Lees are almost in top 5 riches families in Golden Triangle.
"No," Chae-rin rejected a grey blazer without even letting me button it. "Too soft. We need contrast."
"How about this?" I held up a navy one.
"Clashes with the stage lights," she dismissed. "We are going classical. Matching."
We settled on black. Deep, matte black that absorbed the light.
Chae-rin chose a sharp, tailored women's suit with a silk white shirt unbuttoned just enough to be chic, not scandalous. It made her look like a young CEO.
For me, she picked a slim-fit black suit. But instead of the jacket, she made me just wear the trousers and the white shirt.
"Roll the sleeves," she commanded, standing back with Mr. Park, her driver, who was holding the garment bags.
"Roll them?" I asked, looking at the pristine white cuffs.
"Up to the elbow. Tucked tight," she instructed. "And loosen the tie."
I did as told. I rolled the sleeves, exposing my forearms.
Chae-rin nodded slowly, her eyes scanning my upper body.
"Good. This cut highlights your natural broad shoulders. It creates a V-taper. Very idol-esque."
"Natural?" I scoffed, flexing slightly to check the fit. "Excuse me, Princess. This isn't nature. This is years of calisthenics and work out. This is five hundred pull-ups a week. This is hard work, not genetics."
"Whatever," she waved her hand dismissively. "It works. Mr. Park, wrap it up."
Mr. Park smiled politely. "It suits him, Miss. He looks... formidable."
The drive back was quiet. The city lights of Seoul blurred past the tinted windows. I sat there, feeling strange in my new haircut and the expensive suit hanging in the bag next to me.
I looked at Chae-rin.
She was staring out the window, her expression unreadable.
I felt a sudden surge of... camaraderie? We had spent the day working, shopping, bickering. It felt almost normal.
"Mr. Park," Chae-rin said suddenly. "Drop me at the intersection near the velvet cafe in Apgujeong."
I blinked.
"The cafe? Aren't we going home? It's late."
"I have an appointment," she said, checking her reflection in her compact mirror.
"An appointment?" I asked, leaning forward comfortably. "With who? Another vocal coach? Or meeting friends?"
Chae-rin snapped the mirror shut. The sound was sharp.
She turned to me.
The warmth from the shopping trip—the blush, the banter—was gone.
The Ice Queen was back, sitting on her throne of frost.
"That," she said, her voice dropping to absolute zero, "is none of your business, San. Don't confuse a partnership with friendship. You ask too many questions."
I recoiled as if she'd slapped me.
Right, I thought, sinking back into the leather seat. I got too comfortable.
I forgot who she is.
I forgot who I am.
"Understood," I muttered, looking away.
The car pulled over.
Chae-rin stepped out without a backward glance.
The door slammed shut, leaving a vacuum of silence.
"To the Lee residence, Mr. Park," she commanded through the open window before walking away, her heels clicking on the pavement.
Mr. Park pulled the car back into traffic.
I sat in the back, feeling small.
The new haircut suddenly felt heavy.
"Don't take it personally, Mr. Motuzenko," Mr. Park's voice came from the front, gentle and fatherly. "Miss has a lot on her mind."
"I know," I sighed. "She's intense."
"Do you like her?"
The question came out of nowhere.
"Mwo?" I sputtered, sitting up.
It took me a second to come to my senses.
"Absolutely not." I cleared my throat.
Mr. Park chuckled. It was a low, knowing sound.
"You say that," he said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "But it is written all over your face, young man. You look at her with...."
"I look at her with fear," I corrected. "And respect for her vocal range. That's it."
"It is a pity," Mr. Park mused, turning the steering wheel. "Because she is not meeting a vocal coach."
He paused.
"She went on a date with Min-gyu."
My brain stopped.
"Min-gyu?" I repeated. "Han Min-gyu?"
"Yes," Mr. Park nodded. "They got back together recently."
"Back together?" I whispered. "I didn't even know they were dating. They barely interact at school. They ignore each other in the hallways."
"Public appearances can be deceiving," Mr. Park said.
A sick feeling settled in my stomach.
Chae-rin and Min-gyu. It made sense. But hearing it... it stung. More than I expected.
"Mr. Park," I asked, my voice low. "What kind of relationship do they have?"
The car slowed down for a red light.
Mr. Park didn't answer immediately. He looked up.
His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.
The fatherly warmth was gone.
His gaze was cold, sharp, and suddenly very guarded.
He stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment.