Hongjoong's penthouse office's silence was crushing. He stared at his phone, the screen showing three missed calls from his cousin Chaeyoungeach one probably more frantic than the one before. Two weeks till the wedding and they still had no event organizer or make-up artist.
"Another one backed out?," San questioned without glancing up from his tablet where he was reading quarterly reports. Sharp shadows across his face from the afternoon sun accentuated the expensive design of his suit.
Being Seoul's youngest billionaire brought advantages, it also meant everyone anticipated miracles.
Hongjoong muttered, running a hand through his immaculately done hair. Fifth one this month, he said, then added, "Apparently, Chaeyoung made the last planner cry during the cake tasting. Called her 'creatively bankrupt' and threw a fondant rose at her head. "
Mingi whistled softly as he lay across the leather couch as though he owned the place. Your cousin's got a reputation, man. And you know that in the wedding business, word spreads quickly like wildfire.
Hongjoong moaned, leaning back in his chair, Tell me something I don't know. Her fiancé is already worried about the media exposure. The last thing we need is a half-hearted event that will find itself on every Seoul gossip blog.
With brows lifted, Jongho looked up from his laptop." What about that Gangnam-based wedding preparation business? Which ohas the famous customers?"
"Booked solid for the next six months," Hongjoong said flatly," And the others the ones that aren't... well, let's just say they've heard the nightmare stories."
Mingi shot up suddenly, his eyes sparkling with devilish light. You know what? I have a solution.
Intrigued, San eventually turned around. "Please tell me it is not about paying someone off."
"Better," Mingi chuckled. "Have you guys ever been to Hongdae on a Friday night? Not the tourist traps, I'm referring to the actual scene. The subterranean clubs where the talent really spends time."
Hongjoong gazed at him like he had grown a second head. "Are you seriously suggesting I hire some random club worker for Chaeyoungs wedding? Do you want to give my aunt a heart attack?"
"Hear me out," Mingi raised his hands defensively. "Some of those acts are really gifted. I am referring to those among us who nightly turn into actual works of art. Furthermore, what is event planning? Half of them plan their own concerts, run venues, and work with suppliers. They are expert magicians on a small budget.
"Not at all," Hongjoong replied determinedly. "I'm not risking my reputation, or Chaeyoung's, on some... some..."
Mingi said smirking, "Hustler?"
Hongjoong lied when he said, "I wasn't going to say that, but think about it carefully. Should word spreads we hired someone from the clubs, the media will go nuts. Do the headlines—"Chaebol Heir's Cousin Hires Sex Worker for Wedding Planning"—appeal to you?"
San bent forward, really thinking hard. Actually, Mingi might have a point. Some of the most imaginative people I am familiar with are not in conventional fields. We are not expecting them to sing at the wedding, either. All we require is someone with knowledge.
Jongho nodded slowly. "Plus, if they're desperate enough for legitimate work, they'll probably bust their ass to do a good job. Nobody wants to ruin a possibility of entering upper class.
Hongjoong muttered, "You're all crazy," but he could see his determination fading. The wedding was fourteen days away. He was running out of ideas, and Chaeyoung was losing tolerance.
Mingi jumped up, grabbing his coat already, come on. "One night. We will return to begging the agencies if we cannot locate anyone decent. Still, this gives me a sense about it.
Hongjoong wondered about every life decision that had led him to this moment three hours later outside a neon-lit club in Hongdae. Youngsters pushed past, keen to lose themselves in Friday night's anarchy, as the bass from within thrummed across the concrete.
Hongjoong muttered, fixing his intendedly casual attire, "I can't believe I let you persuaded me into this." Dressed down, he still looked like he had walked right out of a magazine.
San laughed, looking quite at peace even if his Hermès jacket most likely costs more than the majority of people's monthly income. "Relax," he said, "we're not stealing a bank."
Almost immediately after they entered, the club manager—a rather elegantly attired woman in her forties—materialized. Her eyes widened just a little when she saw San, but she kept her cool.
She said respectfully bowing, "Gentlemen, I'm Manager Kim. How may I assist you this evening?"
Hongjoong murmured, still sounding absurd, "We're seeking someone with makeup artistry and event coordination expertise. We heard you may know someone in that field."
Manager Kim grinned. "Ah, you're looking for Seonghwa. Park Seonghwa. In one evening, that guy could paint the Mona Lisa on someone's face and plan the Met Gala. Completely amazing.
Hongjoong inquired warily, "What's the catch?
"Well," Manager Kim paused, looking around anxiously. "He goes by 'Starlight' on stage. He works as a drag queen. But I can tell you without a doubt that he is gifted. Classically trained, he has worked in theatre and has an eye for detail that would have made Michelangelo ashamed.
Hongjoong's stomach plummeted. An attractive queen. His traditional family would really disown him.
"That could be ideal," Jongho replied quickly, noting Hongjoong's reluctance. "Someone with theater experience would know the value of creating a flawless event."
"And drag performers are used to working under pressure," Mingi added. "They know how to handle diva attitudes."
San nodded thoughtfully. "Creativity, organization skills, experience with difficult personalities—sounds like exactly what we need."
Manager Kim pulled out her phone. "Would you like his contact information? I can guarantee his discretion. Seonghwa's been trying to transition into legitimate event planning for a while now."
Hongjoong looked around at his friends, all of them staring at him expectantly. He thought about Chaeyoung, probably at home right now making another planner's life hell. He thought about the rapidly approaching wedding date. He thought about his dwindling options.
"Fine," he said finally. "Give me his number."
---
Three days after the club meeting turned out better than anticipated
.
An unidentified number rang Seonghwa's phone. Both of them were stretched out across the living room floor of their small apartment as he was helping Wooyoung practice a new routine. His breath hitched when he noticed the caller ID, not because he knew it but rather because the timing felt important.
"Park Seonghwa?" The voice on the other end was clear, businesslike, and very upper-class.
"Speaking," Seonghwa answered warily, wondering if this was yet another bill collector.
"This is Kim Hongjoong. Club Eclipse's Manager Yoon gave me your contact information. I have a business proposal for you."
Kim Hongjoong. The name struck him like a bodily blow, recollections pouring back unwanted. KQ Entertainment Perfect pitch and dancing skills set the golden boy trainee apart from everyone else, making everyone else seem like amateurs. The son of the managers who had—
Seonghwa strained to keep his voice calm. "I'm listening."
"I need a makeup artist and event coordinator for a high-profile wedding. Two weeks from Saturday. The pay is... substantial. Are you interested?"
*Substantial.* Seonghwa looked over at Wooyoung, who had stopped stretching to listen intently. Their rent was due in five days, and their bank account was hovering dangerously close to zero.
"Very interested," Seonghwa said, trying to keep the desperation—and the shock—out of his voice. "When can we meet to discuss details?"
"Tomorrow. 2 PM. KQ Entertainment building, 15th floor. Ask for me at reception."
*KQ Entertainment.* Of course. Of fucking course.
The line terminated here. Seonghwa looked at his phone, his thoughts split between past trauma and present desire.
"Bish!, what just went down?" Wooyoung demanded then noticed Seonghwa's face. You look like you have seen a ghost. Hang on—are you all right? Seonghwa mumbled, "I think I just got offered a real job." "Like, a real, pays-the-- bills-for--years kind of work."
"That's really great! But then why do you appear so terrified? "
Seonghwa swallowed fiercely." It's difficult. The client wants to meet KQ Entertainment."
Wooyoung's eyes popped open in alarm. He knew the story and realized the importance of that building for Seonghwa. Holy cow." Will you be all right returning there?"
"I have to be," Seonghwa said firmly. "We need this money. And besides," he managed a shaky smile, "I'm not that scared nineteen-year-old anymore."
Wooyoung lunged toward Seonghwa in a bear hug. "No, not at all. You're a fucking queen who has survived everything they threw at you." But also...," he pulled back with a mischievous grin, "you're getting a big-money client before me? Rude."
Though he tried not to, Seonghwa laughed and some of the tension left his shoulders.
" I'll share the commission with you if you help me avoid panic attacks before this conference."
They spent the next hour practicing his pitch, organizing Seonghwa's outfit, and developing a plan for how to react to being back in that environment. Seonghwa had hope by the time they were finished, a feeling he hadn't had in months.
"Just promise me you won't mess this up," Wooyoung said as they finally settled down. "And please, for the love of all that's holy, don't let them see you sweat and don't give anyone a head while you are there. You're Park Seonghwa—you shouldn't crawl for anyone anymore."
"Damn right I don't," Seonghwa replied and shaked his head , laughing at Wooyoung's remark.
For the first time in years, he was walking back into that building not as a victim, but as a professional with something to offer.