"HINOMORI, ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE YOU TO KIRISAME AGENCY'S TOP MODELS."

Okay, so maybe I was a main character.

After scarfing down the rest of the meal, and thanking Mrs. Otani and the other kitchen staff, Mr. Eto dragged me to the set. Its size was considerable, making it difficult to believe it was inside the same building. All the items necessary for a photoshoot were laid out before my eyes. Several cameras propped up at different angles, gigantic stage lights, and a green screen to be used as a backdrop. There were also two large fans positioned on either side of the screen, as well as racks of miscellaneous clothing and a box of props and accessories if the need arose to use them.

"Hm? That's strange, they're supposed to be here," Mr. Eto murmured, surveying the bustling room. "Wait here. I'll go find them—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the doors flung open with a gust. A bright light flooded in, bringing the world to a grinding halt. Right then, three blinding figures stepped inside.

The first to enter towered over the rest. His dark hair held a hint of blue in the fringe, and his eyes were pale enough to take on a silvery sheen. His look was effortlessly gorgeous, and there was lot was going on. Chains, beads, rings. Too many rings. But somehow, he pulled it off. He gave off this cool, distant vibe like he knew exactly how much attention he was drawing, and he loved every bit of it.

Strolling through the wide doors after him was a girl. Her choppy purple hair was styled just below her ears, each strand curled with intention, and her eyes were a soft, almost ethereal violet. She wore this dark purple jacket with a butterfly logo on it, a lime green belt, white pants, and purple shoes.

And then there was a kid. He was the youngest, hands down. His hair was a wild mess of blond, streaked with pinks and greens, and his eyes were all the colours of a rainbow. He was dressed like a walking art project—a bright pink jacket, multi-coloured pants, mismatched socks, and shoes that looked to be made from every colour in a crayon box. Chaotic as it was, it worked for him.

On-screen was one thing—but in person? It wasn't just that they were beautiful—it was that their beauty felt almost unreal like something pulled straight out of a dream.

But, as hard to believe as it was, these were real people. Human beings who didn't belong in a museum to be marvelled at, no matter how flawless they appeared.

"Perfect timing!" Mr. Eto proclaimed, cutting through my thoughts. "Let me introduce you. These are our agency's most popular models. Starting off, we have Seo Hazumi—" He pointed to the tallest boy. "—Juri Iura." The girl went about with her business, plopping a black fold-up chair with her name printed on it. "And our cute as a "button" prodigy, who's been modelling since he was in diapers, Botan Niijima." The blond child beamed on cue.

To be honest, they didn't need an introduction. Even at just a glance, they left quite an impression.

"What's going on, Etty?" Botan spoke up. "Who's this? A fan?"

"Uh, not exactly. This is Anri Hinomori. Sonoka's replacement."

"No wayyy!" he drew out the words in an exaggerated fashion. "Noka quit the shoot? Botan did think something was strange when she started crying out of nowhere but this is sooo unexpected!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mr. Eto ball his fingers into tight fists at his side. "Not just the shoot," he forced out. "She. . . turned in her resignation."

"Gasp!" His hands flew over his mouth. "Is that true, Etty? Botan can't believe it! Sure Noka mentioned dealing with some mental health issues, but a talent like hers is such a huge waste to lose! Botan hopes she feels better soon!"

"I share the same sentiment," Juri agreed, lips peeling into a kind smile. "I pray for a speedy recovery, with whatever she was dealing with."

"Be sure to pass along our regards, Eto," Seo tacked on. "Tell her we'll miss her dearly."

Although they shared smiles and platitudes, a charged tension rumbled beneath the surface, capable of making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Mr. Eto forced a laugh to break the heavy silence. "Of course," he gritted out. "I'll, uh, let the other staff know you're ready to start."

He took off at that, summoning the staff interspersed within the large room for a short meeting.

Upon his exit, the jovial air soured.

Within seconds, Juri's smile disappeared, as well as Seo's. With sombre looks that very well didn't suit their appearances, they immediately turned from me, tuning out the world around them.

I gulped, drowning in awkwardness.

"Psst!"

Blinking, I twisted my head downwards. There, stood the boy of petite stature. His height, juvenile facial features, and gummied smile were a mirror of his youthful age.

"Hiii!" His high-pitched voice exuded cuteness. "Nice to meet you, Hinomori! I'm Botan Niijima! Aged thirteen, and the cutest boy in the whooole entireee universe!"

"Oh— it's a pleasure to meet you too," I stumbled, at a loss for words.

"Is Hinomori new to the industry?" he asked, clearly the talkative sort. "What company does Hinomori work for? Botan doesn't recognize Hinomori's face."

"Well, I—"

"Say," he added, already onto the next topic. "'Hinomori' is way too formal, so how about Botan gives you a nickname? Ah, how about 'Moomoo'! Botan will call you 'Moomoo!'"

"No the hell you won't."

What the heck did he just call me? And why was he speaking in the third person? I couldn't conceal my confusion. He was thirteen for Pete's sake. Sure, his appearance could make him pass for younger, but that didn't give him an excuse to mimic baby speech.

Botan extended his lower lip, sniffling as if I'd wedged a knife through his tiny chest. "But, but!" he whined. "It reminds Botan of a cow. And cows are so, sooo cute! By chance, does Hinomori not think cows are cute?"

Cute? I was at a loss for words. Why did it seem like if I didn't agree, he would burst into tears?

"They're not the ugliest animal. . ." I managed to get out.

"Yaaay!" He threw his arms into the air in celebration. "'Moomoo' it is!"

Grinning widely, he whipped out the most expensive iPhone on the market. Its screen was considerably bigger than his hands and face.

"Let's follow each other on social media, Moomoo! What's your username?"

His eyes glistened, and as much as I hated to admit it, my heart melted a smidge.

I didn't have a younger brother, so I had no clue what they were like. But, I imagined this clingy, doe-eyed kid—who knew nothing about the concept of personal space—fit the concept.

As weird as he was, maybe he noticed how out of place I felt, and this was his way of easing my nerves?

You know what, I'd take it.

Returning a meek smile of my own, I conceded my username.

He typed it up at lightning speed.

"@anri.hinomori," he recited as he did. "So simple Botan should've guessed it. This one, right? 15,000 followers? Not bad but after doing this shoot with the cutest boy in the entire universe, Moomoo's popularity will surely double—"

"Oh, not that one," I objected. Must've been someone else who shared my name. I backed out of the account he'd clicked and pointed at the bottommost option. "This one."

Botan fixed his gaze on the screen, his eyes locked onto my page, unblinking. The smile that had been there moments before faded, replaced by a hard, unreadable expression.

"I haven't touched it in a while, so no wonder it doesn't pop up first," I added. "But, yeah. There it is."

". . .kidding. . ."

The words he muttered were so faint, that I didn't catch them. "Huh? What did you—"

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me."

My jaw fell slack. I glanced over my shoulder, attempting to figure out who said that because there was no way it came from who I thought it did.

Except, it did.

It really did.

"You're telling me I wasted my breath on a total loser?" Botan's voice—I kid you not—dropped several octaves. The pubescent deepness was enough to make the world stand still. That was if you ignored the way his facial features twisted in utter disgust. "A friggin' cow, after all. In this day and age, how can you only have 30 followers?"

Sorry I didn't let my social media following decide my worth as a human being.

My mind reacted before my body could. Eventually, though, I got my mouth to work. "Sorry?"

His shoulders jolted.

Within seconds, his fraud, gummied smile returned.

"You know what, Moomoo," he cooed, back in that highly trained, squeaky pitch, "turns out Botan is following way too many people at the moment."

"I heard what you said," I remarked, stunned he even tried to play it off. "You insulted me."

"Huuuh? What do you mean? Botan didn't say anything!"

"I— You're faking your voice—"

"Are you sure you're awake, Moomoo? Botan's always sounded this cute!"

"You can't seriously be pretending like you didn't just say what you did! In that deep, condescending voice of yours!"

The little boy innocently cocked his head, as if my accusations were mere nonsense. Heck, his level of gaslighting almost made me believe it was an auditory hallucination.

"Pfft."

My neck snapped toward Juri, who suppressed a snicker into the back of her hand. She no longer resembled the unbothered figure she was when Mr. Eto was here moments ago.

"30 followers only?" she simpered. "Also, weren't we supposed to get a girl model? How desperate was Eto?"

"Desperate enough to bring a peasant into my presence." Thus, spoke Japan's kind and respectful, 'big brother,' Seo Hazumi. Contrary to his benevolent public image, his chin was hitched in disdain, steel-blue eyes thinned in a nasty scowl. "Listen here, you. . . thing. Whatever dumpster Eto dug you out of is the least of my concerns. The last thing I need is the stench of poverty rubbing off on me."

Suddenly, the odd reactions and conversations between Mr. Eto, Ms. Miho, and Mrs. Otani fit into place—like the final piece of an intricate puzzle.

The models apart of this company—of Kirisame Agency—were insanely corrupt.

Sonoka, the girl I'd replaced, had likely run off with the outfit still on because they'd bullied her away.

She resigned because they whittled at her mental health until ultimately chasing her off for good.

Who knew how many other victims there were, too?

I set my jaw, taking it all in.

That paycheck amount was starting to make a lot of sense.

Still, the phrase "never meet your idols" really rang true. It was a well-known fact that behind closed doors, celebrities were rotten and superficial to the core. Should've known that included these "top" models.

I wonder if that included Nanase, too?

"If you're going to insult me, at least get my gender right."

Juri's eyebrows darted up her forehead. "Wait, are you a—"

"You're a woman?" Seo demanded in disbelief.

"C'mon, Juri, Seo," Botan drawled in his cutesy voice. "How could you not tell? If you ignore her flat chest, flat butt, rough skin, and nonexistent curves, even that pig can pass as a girl at least."

My blood boiled.

That was it. I didn't care how young this brat was—one more word and I was going to make him regret it.

Juri moved in closer to study my face.

"She's telling the truth," she confirmed albeit reluctantly. "Well, considering what Ms. Miho was working with, she had no choice but to have you pass as a guy. Anything to save the shoot, I guess."

A laugh rained from Seo. "Damn," he jeered. "How ugly are you?"

Gritting my teeth, I did my best to take the high road. I was in unfamiliar territory, way out of my element. The last thing I needed was to get on these rich kids' bad side and end up charged or behind bars.

"Look, I'm just here to get paid," I said calmly. "After the shoot, we'll never have to see each other again."

"That's only if the shoot happens," Botan retorted. "There's no way Botan can be seen with someone with 30 followers. Botan won't be able to show his face to the public again."

What did my follower count have to do with the success of this shoot? Did social media statistics truly equate to popularity nowadays?

"Everyone to their stations!" Mr. Eto popped into the conversation at that exact moment. "Let's get this shoot started. Seo, Juri, Botan, I expect you to show Hinomori the ropes—"

"About that Etty." Botan tossed a hand into the air. "Botan's suddenly not feeling well so he's going home!"

"Ditto," Juri tacked on, fighting a smirk. "Whatever Sonoka had must be going around."

Seo pinched his nose. "That, or it's this girl you grabbed off the street. The last thing I need is to catch whatever she has, so I'm bouncing, too."

Mr. Eto's shock was palpable. "I—I don't understand. . ."

Botan cleared up the confusion. "Us going home. Shoot over. Bye!"

The three swerved toward the doors.

Mr. Eto frantically cut them off.

"H—hold on a second!" he pleaded. "You can't do this. Not again. Today is the deadline. We already pushed it this far because today is the only day your schedules align. Plus, with Ms. Sonoka's sudden resignation, our agency is already getting bad press. The last thing we need is anymore because we can't keep our deadlines—"

Seo let out a heavy breath.

"Not our fault that Sonoka girl was extremely unprofessional." He folded his arms across his chest. "She ran out of here for no good reason."

""No good reason"?" Mr. Eto echoed in disbelief. "If it wasn't for the derogatory comments you all made—"

"We were giving harmless advice," Juri stated, wearing that thin, practiced smile she excelled in. "If, as a model, she couldn't handle a little bit of criticism, she wasn't meant for this industry to begin with."

"Also, let's be real," Botan sneered. "With those looks—that amount of body fat—she wasn't going to last anyway."

Mr. Eto almost chewed his lip right off.

"Point is, we're no longer feeling it." Seo shrugged. "Figure out the rest. Like you always do."

"Perhaps you should find a replacement like you did with Sonoka?" Juri offered. "If you can find people who can replace us, that is. This agency wouldn't be a thing without the three of us, and you know it."

Botan consolingly patted his shoulder. "Also, word of advice, Etty. Botan's papa and mama can easily run you out of the modelling industry, or any other industry, entirely. Juri and Seo's parents can, too. So be thankful you still have a job, and do as we say. Okay, bye!"

In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

A weighted, melancholic silence passed through.

"I'm still getting paid, right?" I had to ask.

Mr. Eto scrubbed his hand down his face. "Always know the best thing to say, don't you?" he huffed sarcastically. "Yes, you'll receive your payment. But, it looks like we'll have to reschedule this shoot—yet again. Until that's arranged, you'll receive 50% of it."

Removing his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Looks like I'll have to use him, after all," he sighed under his breath. "The President won't be happy but I have no choice."

Clearing his throat, he addressed me once more.

"I'll call you tomorrow. Let you know the new date and time," he promised. "You're free to go home."

__________

Since this is the last update of the year, I decided to post two chapters woo-hoo! Technically, this was supposed to go up yesterday, but I got a bit busy haha.

Still, I can't believe the year is over. Do any of you have any New Year's resolutions?

For me, it's just to update consistently and hopefully finish Project Cupid. Very far-fetched but I'm making it my goal for 2025.

I'm sure I could do it as long as life doesn't get in the way XD

Although it's a bit early, Happy New Year! <3 Thank you so much for the love and support on this novel. It really does means the world to me!

Let me know your thoughts on today's chapters!