Pose For Me | K.TH

16

How many times had I gone to sleep drunk?

"Replacement?"

I laugh coldly.

For so many years, had I let this woman rule over me.

"She is my queen."

"And I will do whatever it takes to make everyone see who she is."

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AILA

I jump up from my bed, rushing to the door to unlock it when I hear a knock. And Taehyung's there, breathing a little faster than normal. His eyes look like a mix of both pain and triumph.

I'm a bit breathless too, maybe from trying to get to the door so fast.

"Taehyung. Is everything okay?"

He kisses the back of my hand.

"Everything is fine, Miss Aila. I'm sorry for leaving you like that."

"I mean I'm fine, but you..." I blink at his expression. "Who was she? Did you know her?"

"A former model of mine." His smile is bittersweet. "She's no one that you'll need to worry about. It's clear who will outshine who."

The compliment is so sudden that it makes my cheeks blush up in flames.

But no— he wasn't right. That woman had singlehandedly been the prettiest woman I'd ever seen, her face and body both perfection.

He raises an eyebrow at my skeptical expression.

"Do you not believe me?"

I shake my head. "...she was just really beautiful."

His eyes turn darker. "Beautiful? She is, I have to agree. But she doesn't have what you have, no?"

A small smile tints his heart-shaped lips as he offers me a hand.

"Come, Miss Aila."

"Won't you like to see a bit of Paris?"

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He takes me to a small bakery tucked in the corner of the street. The entrance is barely visible, but he finds it easily as if he'd been to it a thousand times.

But the moment he opens the door, my eyes widen at the fragrant scent of warm bread and sweet cakes.

Even better than my favorite place in South Korea.

I'm about to take a closer look at a cutely packaged cake when a delighted call comes from
behind the counter.

"Ma chéri!"

And I see him smile warmly, towards a middle-aged woman who'd run out with a sweet expression.

"Tata." He says, hugging her back as she wraps her arms around his middle. But she quickly steps back, scanning him up and down.

"You gorgeous thing. I haven't seen you for almost two years!"

Korean.

My eyes widen at the sound of her accented Korean. Then she glances at me, her eyes wrinkling with a knowing grin.

"Your girlfriend, Taehyung?"

"No. My model, tata."

"Model." She repeats, dragging out the word with her brow still raised. And it makes me blush when she clicks her tongue skeptically.

"You've never brought one of your models to me before. She is such a beautiful girl as well."

I fidget with my fingers, not knowing what to do with having understood her.

But she bursts into laughter when she notices me looking down at my shoes.

"Korean, I see? I'm sorry, pretty one. It's just been so long since I've seen Taehyung with a girl. Especially after that one—"

Her eyes narrow for a quick second, before relaxing into sweet circles again.

"My, my. I'm going off on my own again, aren't I? Find a seat, you two. And I'll bring you some of my best macarons."

Macarons. I'd only seen them in the bakery back in Korea, through the glass. I'd just never had the courage to grab one of the adorable, expensive sweets.

"Miss Aila." His voice brings me back. "You look surprised."

"I'm a little surprised by how she can speak Korean." I laugh, hands clutching at the glass of water in front of me. "And she speaks it so well, too."

He smiles. "I taught her how, when I found out that she'd always wanted to learn. I would've never have adjusted to Paris as well as I did if it hadn't been for her."

"How...oh."

Of course. Just think about it— if I didn't have Taehyung with me right now, I'd be out in the streets panicking horribly.

"The show is in a few days." He says, making me tense up again. "How do you feel? I don't want you to be too nervous."

I laugh forcefully.

"I'd be really, really brave if I wasn't."

"Mon Dieu. Brave? You have already been enough of that." He says, and I find myself relaxing. "Tell me what's on your mind. What are you worried about?"

Me.

"Well, uh..." I press my fingertips together. I would've never talked to anyone about how I was feeling, not before Taehyung.

No one else had ever asked, either.

But him. He was nothing but calming with those gentle stares, the tenor voice that always put me at ease.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I'm not worried." I say, a bit more firmly. I was going to do well— stand out from all the others, because he'd told me so.

I would do well.

And a faint smile touches his lips when I say that.