#swift video creation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bamgyuuuri · 4 months ago

Note

Hi Amia mylove <3 How are you? hope you feeling well.xoxo So I saw you post that we can make a request sooooo here i am... I was listening a taylor swift song (aka Sl*t) and melt at the "In a world of boy he's a gentleman" and I was wondering If you could make a yeonjun or taehyun pov about it. here's a little suggestion <3 The dazzling lights of the Fashion show danced across the venue, casting shimmering reflections off the luxurious fabrics and golden décor. I was there, dressed to impress, trying to soak in the grandeur of it all. Yeonjun/Taehyun was also in the crowd, exuding effortless charm as he mingled and enjoyed the spectacle.

But midway through the show, the weight of everything overwhelmed me, and tears began to blur my vision. Just when I thought I could slip away unnoticed, a gentle yet familiar voice interrupted my spiral.

"Are you okay?" Yeonjun's / Taehyun's warm eyes met mine, his concern genuine.

I nodded, though my shaky breath betrayed me. Instead of walking away, he stayed, his presence grounding me. He didn’t push for answers; he just stayed, silently offering comfort.

Minutes passed, and slowly, my tears subsided. Yeonjun's/Taehyun's, noticing the calm returning to me, gently patted my head with a soft smile. "You're strong," he whispered before disappearing back into the crowd, leaving me with a heart pounding louder than ever. And the rest is all you can think<3 Love your story and the way you ADD the aesthesis pics relatable with the vibe too. Takecare <3 Jia.

⤷ flamingo pink, sunrise boulevard ┈ cyj.

pairings and tags. stranger!yeonjun x fashiondesigner!reader ft. bestfriend!yunjin . strangers to ??? slowburn . mentions of reader being anxious . yeonjun just being the sweetest man ever . yunjin too!! reader has imposter syndrome . meet cute . fond!jun . not 100% proofread!

word count. 10.5k

short note ... JIAAA omg this ask is so wonderful omg thank u so much for sending me this 🙏 your suggestion alone is already so good are you kidding?!?! i got carried away again help i’m so sorry it took so long T_T still, i hope you like it <3

the world of high fashion had always been more than a dream; it was an obsession.

growing up, you’d fill every scrap of paper you could find with sketches of flowing gowns, structured suits, and intricate details that you imagined would one day captivate an audience. while other kids talked about their favorite celebrities, you admired designers, memorizing the way their collections evolved over the seasons.

you’d sit for hours in front of a tiny screen, watching grainy videos of runway shows, completely mesmerized. the way the fabric moved under the lights, how each design told a story, and the applause that followed—it all felt like magic. you dreamed of the day your creations would make it to those very runways, carried with grace by the world’s finest models.

but as you grew older, reality set in.

talent alone wasn’t enough. you needed money to attend the right schools, connections to open the right doors, and the kind of opportunities that didn’t just fall into anyone’s lap. no matter how much you poured your heart into your work, the glittering world of high fashion remained frustratingly out of reach.

still, you didn’t stop creating. despite the constant reminder that you didn’t have the right pedigree or the right financial backing, you kept sketching. your tiny apartment became a refuge, the four walls an oasis where your imagination was free to roam without limitations.

the clutter of fabric swatches, sketchbooks, and sewing supplies was a sign of your dedication, even if no one else saw it. it was in that small space, away from the world’s judgment, that your designs took shape. here, you were free to imagine worlds, to dream up creations that could make people feel something, even if those dreams never materialized into anything more than the pages of your sketchbook.

it was one of those quiet afternoons, the kind where the golden light of the sun filtered lazily through your windows, casting long shadows across your desk. you sat hunched over your sketchbook, pencil in hand, lost in the flow of your thoughts as you worked on your latest design.

but then, just as the idea you were sketching started to come to life, a sharp knock broke through your concentration. you paused, glancing toward the door with a furrowed brow. it was unusual to get visitors, especially during the middle of the day.

at first, you thought it was just a neighbor—maybe someone needing to borrow something or asking for a quick favor. you returned to your sketchbook, dismissing it as nothing more than a small interruption. but then, a second knock came, this time even louder, more insistent. your head snapped up, and you could hear the unmistakable sound of a voice calling your name, bright and full of energy.

"open up! it’s me!!" it was yunjin, her voice unmistakable and full of excitement, as though she had just walked in on the biggest surprise. the sound of her knocking grew more playful—she was determined to get your attention no matter what.

you sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you hadn’t expected a visit, but yunjin was the kind of person who could show up unannounced and immediately make everything feel lighter, even if you hadn’t been in the mood for company. shaking your head affectionately, you pushed your chair back and stood up.

when you opened the door, yunjin stood there, a whirlwind of energy and excitement. she had a bag of snacks in one hand, her phone and handbag on the other, and an expression that was equal parts mischief and joy.

"finally!" yunjin exclaimed, bursting through the door before you even had a chance to greet her. “i was starting to think you’d locked yourself away for good, like some kind of mysterious artist living off nothing but coffee and existential dread. tell me you’ve eaten something today.”

you raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes as a laugh bubbled up. "hello to you too, yunjin. and yes, i’ve eaten. thanks for asking, mother."

“oh, sure you have,” she said with a dramatic eye-roll, tossing a bag of snacks onto your counter with the flair of someone who had just conquered a great battle. "because the last time i visited, you were living off instant noodles and the sheer willpower of your creativity."

you crossed your arms, feigning offense. “hey, instant noodles are versatile!”

“sure they are,” she replied, not missing a beat as she rummaged through the bag like a woman on a mission. “well, lucky for you, i brought real food. pastries, chips, and—wait for it—fancy chocolates from my trip last week! you’re welcome.”

you laughed, shaking your head as you closed the door behind her, watching her make herself right at home. yunjin had always been like this—chaotic, energetic, and somehow always knowing when you needed a little bit of sunshine in your day.

“so, what’s the occasion?” you asked, leaning against the counter with a raised brow as she went about unpacking her treasure trove of snacks.

"what, can’t a girl visit her bestfriend without an ulterior motive?" she said, batting her lashes and feigning innocence in the most exaggerated way possible. "besides, what more could you possibly need?"

“well, maybe a chance to finally finish my sketches without being interrupted by you and your endless energy?” you teased, but the smile on your face betrayed you.

“impossible,” she replied with a dramatic gasp. "i bring joy, creativity, and snacks—not interruptions."

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “not when that best friend is currently occupied and you’re… you know, you.”

she gasped again, clutching her hand to her chest. “wow, the disrespect,” she said, feigning hurt. “but fine, if you must know, i do have a reason for being here.”

“i knew it,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but lean in, genuinely curious. “what is it?”

yunjin paused dramatically, glancing over her shoulder as though deciding how to reveal the greatest secret she’d ever had. her eyes gleamed mischievously, and she drew in a deep, theatrical breath, making sure to keep you hanging on every second. “you know how we talked about that crazy, exclusive fashion show happening next week?”

you nodded slowly, your mind already running through the possibilities. of course you knew about it—how could you not?

everyone in the fashion world had heard whispers about the event, the kind of event where designers showed off their best collections, where the elite mingled in their designer clothes. you’d followed every piece of news you could, dreaming of one day being part of something like that. “yeah, i remember. sounds… well, incredibly out of reach, but i do look forward to seeing snippets of the show online.”

she raised an eyebrow, her gaze filled with a spark you knew so well. "you think so?" she asked, her tone lighter, teasing. "well, i might have... something that could change your mind about that."

you tilted your head, your curiosity immediately piqued. “what are you talking about?”

yunjin didn’t answer right away. instead, she began rummaging through her bag, her hands diving in and out of the various pockets with exaggerated slowness. you watched, your breath catching in your throat, as her movements became more deliberate, each second of suspense building higher. her grin stretched wider as if she was savoring every moment.

you raised an eyebrow, amused, but also growing impatient. "seriously, just show me already."

she finally seemed to have found what she was ‘looking’ for, her fingers brushing against the envelope you hadn’t noticed earlier. your gaze locked onto it as she slowly pulled it out, the sleek, pristine exterior catching the light as if it were glowing in her hands. her expression was unreadable now—calm, composed, as though she was holding something sacred.

“this,” yunjin says, drawing out the moment to an excruciatingly slow pause, “is your ticket to one of the most exclusive fashion shows of the year.” her grin returned in full force, her excitement palpable, though she made no attempt to rush you. she just let the silence build as you tried to process what she was saying.

you blinked rapidly, unable to wrap your mind around it. "wait, are you—" you started to ask, but the words caught in your throat.

“oh, yes,” yunjin said, cutting you off with a wink, “a friend of mine owed me a big favor, and the first person i thought of when the opportunity came up was you, so..” she added, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper, “you’re going.”

your heart stopped. you stared at the envelope, disbelief swirling inside you. this couldn’t be real. “no way,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. “are you serious?”

yunjin’s grin only grew wider as she held the envelope out toward you, her excitement now matching yours, if not surpassing it. “absolutely serious. next week. front and center, you’re going!”

you glanced at the envelope, your fingers suddenly feeling too cold to touch it. everything you had dreamed of seemed so much more intimidating now that it was right in front of you. the thought of standing among the glamorous people at the show, of being seen, made your stomach churn.

you gulped as you finally found the courage to speak. “but what if... what if i don’t belong there? what if i embarrass myself? i’m not.. i’m not even sure i’ll fit in. i don’t even know what to wear—what if i’m not dressed properly for something so important?”

yunjin’s expression softened as she noticed the self-doubt clouding your tone. gently, she cupped your face with her hands, guiding you to meet her eyes. “hey,” she said, her voice calm yet full of conviction, “listen to me. you are more than enough to be in that world. more than enough. you’ve got the talent, the passion, the drive… everything it takes. don’t let anything trick you into thinking otherwise.”

her thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, her touch tender yet firm, as if to emphasize every word. “you’ve worked so hard for this, and you’ve earned it…! the world’s ready for you. you just need to believe it too.”

you tried to process her words, but the nagging voice of doubt still lingered in your mind. sensing your hesitation, yunjin’s smile softened even more. “if you’re worried about the outfit, you don’t need to stress about that either. i’ve got your back. i’ll help you pick something that not only fits perfectly, but makes you feel just as confident and amazing as you truly are, okay? you’ve got this, i promise.”

you blinked, the weight on your chest starting to lift just a little, replaced by a sense of warmth. her belief in you was like a steady anchor, grounding you, soothing the swirl of anxiety that had taken over your thoughts.

“thank you, yunjin,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as a lump formed in your throat. “i... i’m more than thankful.. i owe you a lot...”

yunjin’s smile returned, this time brighter and filled with warmth. she reached out and ruffled your hair playfully. “you don’t have to worry about that. i’ve got you, always. now, let’s get you ready to own this moment, yeah? we've got lots to do!”

with her confidence bolstering yours, you could feel a flicker of excitement slowly replacing the doubt. yunjin’s belief in you was more than just comforting—it was empowering. for the first time in a long while, you let yourself imagine that maybe, just maybe, this dream could be real. ꒰🍦꒱

the next few days blurred into an endless cycle of preparation. sketches, plans, and ideas occupied your waking hours, but amidst all of it, yunjin remained your anchor—a constant source of energy and reassurance. when she declared it was finally time to shop for the perfect outfit, you knew you were in for an adventure.

“i’ve cleared my whole day for this,” yunjin announced the moment you stepped into her car. she was wearing her usual bold confidence like a second skin, her oversized sunglasses perched atop her head. “today is all about you, and i won’t rest until we’ve found the one.”

“the one?” you echoed, buckling your seatbelt. “sounds like you’re taking me wedding dress shopping or something.”

“same thing, babe,” she quipped, tossing you a grin. “except instead of walking down the aisle, you’ll be strutting into a room full of people who need to know how incredible you are.”

her words settled in your chest, warm and reassuring, but before you could respond, she floored the accelerator. yunjin didn’t just drive; she commanded the road, weaving through traffic with a confidence that matched her personality.

the first store she dragged you into was as intimidating as you’d feared—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and racks of clothing that screamed “luxury.” the air even smelled expensive, a faint mix of bergamot and something floral. yunjin took one glance around and immediately zeroed in on a display of sequined dresses.

“you know,” you mused as you glanced around, “this place has incredible tailoring. look at that dart placement on that jacket—it’s genius.”

yunjin rolled her eyes fondly. “of course you’d notice the stitching before the silhouette. come on, focus. we’re not here to critique; we’re here to conquer.”

she dragged you toward a rack of outfits, pulling out pieces with the fervor of someone on a treasure hunt. “this,” yunjin then declared, plucking a vibrant emerald-green gown from the rack and holding it against you. “imagine walking into the show in this. jaws would drop.”

you raised an eyebrow, eyeing the dress skeptically. “jaws would drop because they’d think i’m trying to blind them.”

yunjin rolled her eyes, thrusting the dress into your arms. “try it on. trust me, you’ll look like a goddess.”

you sighed but complied, disappearing into the fitting room. when you emerged, yunjin gasped dramatically, her hands flying to her mouth. “oh my god. you’re stunning!”

“i look like a disco ball."

“a chic disco ball,” she corrected, circling you like a fashion critic. “but okay, maybe this isn’t the one. next!”

the shopping spree continued in a similar fashion—yunjin pulling outrageous outfits, you reluctantly trying them on, and both of you dissolving into laughter more often than not. at one point, she handed you a pair of neon yellow boots and insisted they were “the future of fashion.”

“yunjin, these look like construction worker boots dipped in highlighter,” you said, holding them up as though they might bite.

“and that’s why they’re iconic!” she shot back, her grin wide. “come on, just try them on. i need to see how they look with those pants you’re wearing.”

you groaned but slipped them on anyway. when you stepped out of the fitting room, yunjin burst out laughing so hard she nearly doubled over, clutching her stomach. “oh my god,” she wheezed, “you look like a high-fashion traffic cone.”

“you’re the one who told me to try them!” you shot back, kicking one foot out in mock frustration. “this is your fault.”

she wiped a tear from her eye, still laughing. “okay, okay, i admit it. maybe those were a bit... much.” then, her expression softened, and she stepped closer, fixing the hem of your sweater. “but seriously, you’re making everything look good. even those boots. you’re incredible.”

her sudden sincerity caught you off guard, and you felt a small, embarrassed smile tug at your lips. “you’re only saying that because i’m letting you drag me around like a dress-up doll.”

“nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “i mean it. you’re going to own that fashion show. they won’t know what hit them.”

with her words buoying you, you followed her through store after store, trying on an endless array of dresses, suits, shoes, and accessories. yunjin’s playful critiques kept you laughing the whole time.

“too sparkly. you’re not auditioning for a pop group,” she said of one dress.

“too boring. you’re not a corporate intern,” she dismissed another.

“now this—” she held up a dramatic cape-like jacket, “this says, ‘i am the moment.’”

“this says, ‘i’m about to take flight,’” you countered, shaking your head.

but amidst all the jokes and theatrics, there were moments where yunjin’s care for you shone through. when you hesitated to try on a fitted dress, worrying it might not suit you, she gently nudged you forward. “just try it,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “you’ll see what i see.”

and when you emerged wearing the dress, her reaction wasn’t over-the-top or playful this time. she simply smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made your chest tighten. “you’re beautiful,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “you belong there just right.”

you stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words. “thank you,” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“don’t thank me,” she said, squeezing your hand. “just believe it.”

as the day wore on, the two of you eventually found the outfit—a sleek black dress with intricate detailing that was both elegant and bold. when you tried it on, you knew immediately it was the one.

yunjin clapped her hands together, beaming. “there it is! you’re going to look so good in this. it’s perfect.”

“you really think so?” you asked, turning to check the mirror for the hundredth time.

“no, i know so,” she said, her confidence unwavering. “and when you walk into that show, every single person in that room is going to see what i’ve seen all along—that you’re amazing.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “you’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

“and you love me for it,” she shot back, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “now let’s get out of here before i bankrupt us both.”

as you left the store, bags in hand, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, a little braver. with yunjin by your side, the once-daunting prospect of the fashion show now felt... exciting. and as she launched into a story about some guy who’d cut her off in traffic earlier, you realized how lucky you were to have her by your side. ꒰🍦꒱

before you knew it, the day of the fashion show had arrived. the morning sun streamed through your apartment windows, casting a golden glow on the carefully chosen outfit hanging nearby—a testament to days of preparation, laughter, and yunjin’s unyielding faith in you.

though she couldn’t physically accompany you, her words of encouragement replayed in your head, steadying your nerves like a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“you’re going to kill it,” she’d said, her tone carrying a conviction that felt foreign to your own heart. “every single person in that room will wish they were as talented as you. just remember that.”

you replayed her words in your head like a mantra as you stepped out of the taxi, but the sight that greeted you made your stomach drop.

the venue was alive with energy, a level of grandeur you hadn’t quite prepared yourself for. flashing lights from paparazzi cameras created a chaotic strobe effect, casting fleeting shadows on the impeccably dressed crowd. there were celebrities you vaguely recognized, important figures with an air of effortless elegance, and designers moving with a sense of purpose that made your every hesitant step feel painfully out of place.

your chest tightened as you clutched the sleek envelope in your hand, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. “okay,” you whispered to yourself, taking a shaky breath. “you can do this. yunjin believes in you, so… you believe in you too.”

but your pep talk was cut short when someone brushed past you, their shoulder colliding with yours hard enough to make you stumble.

“sorry,” you mumbled instinctively, though the person didn’t so much as glance in your direction, their focus elsewhere.

your cheeks burned, even though no one else seemed to notice the exchange. pulling your bag closer to your side, you attempted to regroup, scanning the crowd for any indication of where you were supposed to go.

but there were no clear signs, no friendly staff member waving you toward an entrance. just a thrumming mass of glamour and purpose, every single person moving with an ease you envied.

you hesitated at the base of the grand staircase leading to the main doors, uncertainty rooting you in place. should you just walk in? was there someone you needed to check in with first?

gathering what little courage you had left, you decided to follow a group of attendees who were flashing similar envelopes to yours at a security guard near the entrance. their polished confidence made you feel like a lost child in comparison, but you forced yourself to mimic their movements.

“invitation?” the guard asked when you approached, his tone curt but professional.

you fumbled with the envelope, nearly dropping it in your haste to hand it over. “here—sorry—here you go,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

the guard scanned it with a practiced efficiency before nodding. “straight ahead, through the main doors,” he instructed, already turning his attention to the next person in line.

you murmured a quiet “thank you” and stepped inside, only to be immediately overwhelmed by the sheer opulence of the space.

the venue was breathtaking, a gilded labyrinth of elegance and extravagance. golden chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their soft glow casting a warm light over the sea of attendees. the hum of conversation filled the air, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

your earlier nerves returned with a vengeance as you tried to navigate the room, clutching your bag like a lifeline. every step felt tentative, as though you were walking on eggshells, terrified of drawing attention to yourself.

you scanned the crowd for any indication of where you were supposed to go, your eyes landing on a table near the back where a few attendees were collecting what looked like name cards. relief flooded you as you headed in that direction, only to falter when you realized there was a long line.

“of course,” you muttered under your breath, taking your place at the end of the queue.

when it was finally your turn, you stepped up to the table, your anxiety flaring under the attendant’s sharp gaze.

“name?” she asked briskly, her tone clipped but not unkind.

you stammered out your name, feeling your cheeks flush as she flipped through the cards with an almost agonizing slowness. each passing second stretched longer, the weight of her silence pressing down on your chest.

finally, she found your card and handed it to you with a curt nod. “row c, seat 13,” she said before turning her attention to the next person in line.

you stared at the card in your hand, a mix of relief and dread coursing through you. “row c,” you murmured to yourself, your voice barely audible over the din of the crowd.

now came the next challenge: finding it.

the seating area was a maze of rows and sections, each one more crowded than the last. you wove through the throng of attendees, muttering soft apologies as you accidentally bumped into shoulders and bags. every misstep felt amplified, your nerves magnifying the smallest of stumbles.

“excuse me,” you said softly, trying to squeeze past a particularly dense group of people. when they didn’t move, you tried again, louder this time, only to be met with indifferent glances.

your frustration bubbled just beneath the surface, but you swallowed it down, determined not to let it show. instead, you approached a staff member stationed near the aisle. “hi, um, can you point me to row c?” you asked, your voice laced with desperation.

the staff member gestured vaguely to the left. “over there, by the center aisle.”

you nodded your thanks and hurried in the indicated direction, only to find yourself once again weaving through clusters of people. your pulse quickened as you scanned the rows, your eyes darting between the seat numbers and the impatient glances of those around you.

just when you were about to lose hope, you finally spotted your seat. never have you ever felt this glad to see the number 13 in your life. a wave of relief washed over you as you sank into the plush chair, clutching your bag to your chest like a shield.

your heart was still racing, but for the first time since arriving, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath. you’d made it. barely, but you’d made it.

as you adjusted your posture, trying to appear more composed than you felt, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered, maybe you do belong here after all.

you now watch as the venue slowly fills up with people, the hum of conversation around you growing louder and more animated with each passing moment. the seats beside you begin to fill as well, the air charged with an excitement you’re not entirely sure you can match.

your hands grip the edge of your seat as you try to steady your breathing. it should be comforting to see others settling in, but instead, it only makes your chest tighten. the reality of the moment is starting to sink in: you’re here. the event is real. and soon, you’ll be sitting through a show filled with people who belong to this world, while you’re still wondering if you truly do, too.

your thoughts spiral, every worst-case scenario playing out in your mind. what if someone talks to you? what if you say something wrong? what if you trip on your way out?

“okay, stop,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as though you can physically dislodge the anxiety from your mind. you take a deep breath, willing the oxygen to calm your racing heart. “you’re fine. you’re fine. it’s just another room of people, that’s all.”

but just as you’re beginning to regain some semblance of control, your nerves decide to betray you in the most inconvenient way possible.

you feel the telltale pressure building, and your stomach drops. of course the anxiety wasn’t enough—now you have to pee.

you glance around the venue, trying to locate the restrooms without looking too obvious about it. but the thought of weaving through the growing crowd again makes you want to crawl under your seat and hide.

“great timing,” you mutter sarcastically, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “just perfect.”

you sit there, locked in an internal battle that’s as ridiculous as it is frustrating. your mind races through every possible consequence of leaving your seat. what if i lose my spot? what if someone takes it? what if i come back and look completely out of place? but none of those worries are quite as pressing as the growing discomfort making it increasingly hard to sit still.

you cross and uncross your legs, trying to buy yourself a little more time, but it’s no use. the urge is only getting stronger, and you know you can’t wait until after the show.

“ugh, fine,” you groan under your breath, earning a curious glance from the person sitting two seats away. you shoot them an apologetic smile before rising reluctantly to your feet. “just my luck,” you mutter to yourself as you gather your courage and step into the growing tide of people.

navigating through the crowd feels like threading a needle—while blindfolded. you weave your way through clusters of people, murmuring “excuse me” after “sorry,” but your politeness doesn’t seem to be contagious.

a sharp elbow clips your shoulder, and a tall man doesn’t even glance back as he strides past. “oh, sure, it’s not like i’m here or anything,” you grumble under your breath, rubbing the spot.

as you inch closer to the hallway that leads to the restrooms, a pair of women standing in the middle of the walkway are too engrossed in their conversation to notice they’re blocking the path. you hesitate for a moment, then clear your throat gently.

“um, excuse me,” you say, trying to sound as polite as possible.

they both glance at you with identical raised eyebrows, as though you’ve just interrupted a royal decree. one of them steps aside with a huff, the other muttering something you can’t quite catch—but it doesn’t sound kind.

“thank you so much,” you say with a tight smile, though your tone drips with sarcasm. they don’t respond, already turning back to their conversation as if you don’t exist.

you sigh, pushing forward and silently willing yourself to get through this without any further incidents. but as you turn the corner, another hurdle awaits—a woman balancing a cup of coffee in one hand and a clipboard in the other. she’s standing directly in front of the sign pointing to the restrooms, completely oblivious to the fact that she’s blocking the way.

“excuse me,” you try again, louder this time.

she glances up, frowns, and moves just enough for you to squeeze by, muttering something about “people in a hurry.”

“yeah, sorry for having basic human needs,” you mutter under your breath as you finally spot the restroom door like it’s a beacon of hope in a stormy sea.

the second you finally finish your business, you feel the sudden relief of having taken care of that problem. you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. but as you wash your hands, the booming sound of music filters through the walls. the show is starting. right now.

you glance nervously at the mirror, quickly dabbing at your face to fix any stray smudges of makeup. with shaky hands, you apply a final coat of lipstick, then press your palms against the countertop to steady yourself.

okay, okay, you’ve got this. the show’s starting, but you’re still here, still in it. still feeling a strange sense of excitement that makes your heart race even faster. the overwhelming mix of anticipation and nerves makes you feel lightheaded, like you could burst into action any moment.

with a deep breath, you push the door open and make a beeline for the hallway, your steps quickening as you feel the pressure of time.

but as you reach the end of the hallway, you freeze.

the venue was already packed.

no way.

the moment you step back into the main room, it’s like hitting a brick wall of bodies. people are everywhere—standing in groups, chatting animatedly, glancing at their phones, adjusting outfits, and striding toward their seats. you try to push through, but it’s like swimming upstream.

the sea of people presses in from all sides, making every step feel like a struggle. you try to sidestep a couple who are blocking the narrow path ahead, but they’re moving in tandem, oblivious to your presence. perfect.

your anxiety was beginning to creep back up again. i’m never going to get back to my seat at this rate.

you glance over at the packed rows, scanning for your spot, but there’s no way to tell where you’re supposed to go. your seat is just another tiny speck in the ocean of people.

you start moving in the direction of the seats, but it’s like trying to navigate through a dense fog. the buzz of chatter and the low hum of the music overwhelm your senses, making it even harder to focus. you have to keep reminding yourself that you’re actually here, that you’ve worked so hard to get to this point, but the sheer chaos around you makes it feel like you’re suffocating.

why is this so difficult? you think, frustration starting to bubble up. i should be enjoying this, right?

every time you think you’re getting closer to an opening in the crowd, someone else steps in front of you, forcing you to backtrack or dodge around them. this isn’t happening right now, is it?

as you tried to push through the crowd again, your determination was slipping with each passing second. you could feel the panic rising in your chest, and despite all the preparation, despite all the effort yunjin had put into getting you here, you felt utterly lost.

this was supposed to be the moment. you thought, but the weight of the situation was crushing you, and even yunjin’s encouraging words were starting to feel distant, like they didn’t belong in this overwhelming mess of people and lights.

you tried to steady yourself, but the crowd was relentless. and then, without warning, your heel caught on someone’s foot, and you were falling, knees slamming against the hard floor with a painful jolt.

you barely had time to register the fall before the sound of laughter from nearby voices filled your ears. you quickly glanced up, hoping for some sign of help, but no one made a move to assist you. the people around you seemed too preoccupied with their own lives to even notice you struggling.

a lump formed in your throat as you slowly pushed yourself up, hands shaking as you planted them on the floor to lift yourself back to your feet. each movement felt like a struggle, like everything was working against you. your breathing was shallow, your heart racing in your chest.

you stood there for a moment, hands gripping the edge of the nearest chair, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through your mind. you could hear the music in the distance, the thumping bass marking the beginning of the show.

it’s starting. it’s really starting.

but all the excitement you’d felt earlier evaporated into a thick fog of frustration and helplessness. the models were already walking down the runway, the crowd shifting in their place to watch, but all you could do was stand there, neck craned, doing your best to balance on your toes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of anything, but it was impossible. the people in front of you were taller, wider, blocking every possible view.

your shoulders slumped as the tears threatened to spill over. this was it. all this preparation, all the effort... for nothing.

your breath hitched as you felt the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. this was the moment where everything seemed to fall apart. you couldn’t see, you couldn’t even get to your seat, and you were starting to feel like an imposter in the midst of all these people who belonged. a shaky exhale escaped your lips as you glanced around, searching desperately for something—anything—to hold onto. but all you saw were backs turned to you, figures moving seamlessly, like they were all part of a rhythm you couldn’t quite catch. the room felt like it was swallowing you whole, and the tears blurred your vision, making the dazzling lights above seem like distant stars. you bit the inside of your cheek, a futile attempt to pull yourself together, but even that wasn’t enough. the weight of it all was crashing down, and for a moment, you thought you might drown in it.

but before you could spiral any further into your self-doubt, a gentle but firm hand suddenly landed on your shoulder, making you freeze in your tracks. the touch was unexpected, like an anchor that yanked you out of the chaotic whirlwind of your thoughts, pulling you back from the brink of complete panic. your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, everything else disappeared—the crowd, the overwhelming noise, the pulsating lights of the venue. it was just that hand, warm and steady against your skin, grounding you in a way that felt both foreign and comforting all at once.

you turned, startled, and found yourself looking up into a pair of dark eyes, calm and steady, as though they could see right through the chaos in your head. there was something in the way he looked at you that made everything, just for a second, seem less daunting.

“hey,” he said, his voice low and reassuring, “you alright?”

you blinked up at him, unable to speak at first. the confusion, the stress, your glossy eyes, the overwhelming feeling of being out of place all mingled together, but his calm presence was like a lifeline.

he offered you a small, comforting smile. “you look like you could use a hand.”

you swallowed hard, still trying to calm the rapid thud of your heart, but the tightness in your chest refused to loosen. the noise around you felt deafening now, and you could feel the familiar sting of tears threatening to spill. you blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but the room was spinning, the air suffocating.

“i—i’m sorry,” you stuttered, your voice shaky as you attempted to explain, the words tumbling out in a rush. “i’m... i’m lost. i can’t... i can’t find my seat, and i don’t know how to—i... i’m not supposed to be here. i-i can’t see anything, and everything’s so crowded, and i just—” you stopped, the words sticking in your throat, feeling hopelessly tangled. your hands trembled at your sides, and your breath hitched in your chest.

a concerned look immediately fell upon the man’s face, his brows furrowing as he watched you struggle to steady yourself. without hesitation, he reached forward, gently taking your trembling hands in his own. the warmth of his palms against yours was grounding, and he brought your hands together, holding them securely in his grasp.

“hey, hey,” he said softly, his voice steady and low, “it’s okay. just breathe for me, alright? just one deep breath. in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

his thumbs brushed lightly over the backs of your hands as if to anchor you further, his touch firm yet reassuring. “it’s alright,” he continued, his tone calm and measured, “you’re okay. i’ve got you. take it one breath at a time.”

you hesitated, your chest still tight, but his steady presence made it easier to focus on his words. closing your eyes briefly, you forced yourself to follow his instructions. a deep inhale through your nose, then a slow, shaky exhale through your mouth.

“there you go,” he encouraged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “one more for me. just like that. in... and out.”

you repeated the process, your breaths gradually evening out. the storm of panic that had consumed you began to ebb, leaving behind a fragile sense of clarity.

“that’s it,” he said softly, his hands still holding yours. “you’re doing great.”

you opened your eyes, the sting of tears still present but no longer overwhelming. his gaze met yours, steady and full of kindness, and for the first time that night, you felt like you weren’t entirely alone.

the man offered you yet another one of his gentle smiles before his free hand disappeared into his pocket. he pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, holding it out for you to take, the motion so natural and considerate that it caught you off guard.

“here,” he said softly, as though he knew you were on the verge of refusing. “it’s clean, don’t worry.”

you sniffled, hesitating for a moment, but the kind look in his eyes left you no choice but to accept. “thank you,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you took the handkerchief.

it felt soft and well-cared-for, and you pressed it gently against your cheeks, wiping away the tears that clung stubbornly to your skin. as your vision cleared, you instinctively looked up to return the handkerchief, but then...

oh.

your breath caught in your throat as you got a proper look at him for the first time.

he was... wow.

the kind of breathtaking you’d read about in novels or seen in perfectly lit photoshoots. his features were sharp and refined, yet there was something warm and approachable about the way he carried himself. his dark eyes held an undeniable depth, a mix of intensity and softness that made it hard to look away. his hair framed his face effortlessly, and the hint of a grin playing on his lips seemed almost out of place with how gentle he’d been just moments ago.

as if sensing your flusteredness, the man let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and surprisingly soothing. his head tilted slightly, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he nodded in understanding. "it’s okay," he said gently, his voice carrying an unspoken reassurance that he wasn’t judging you. "just making sure you’re really alright."

you managed a small smile, your heart still beating a little too quickly—not just from the chaos of moments ago, but now from the way he was looking at you, like you were someone worth paying attention to.

just then, the commentator’s voice echoed through the venue, announcing the next set of pieces about to grace the runway. the subtle shift in the atmosphere reminded you where you were, though it didn’t stop your stomach from flipping nervously all over again.

“looks like we don’t have much time,” the man said, his gaze flicking toward the direction of the commentator’s voice before returning to you. without hesitation, he extended his hand, palm up, his fingers slightly curled in invitation. “come on. let’s get you somewhere with a better view.”

you stared at his hand, your breath hitching slightly as hesitation crept in. could you really trust him? this stranger who had been kind to you when no one else even noticed? your fingers twitched at your sides, uncertainty coiling in your chest. what if this was some elaborate prank? or worse, what if you embarrassed yourself even more by blindly following someone you didn’t know?

but then you looked up, meeting his gaze again. his eyes were steady, unyielding yet soft, as if silently telling you that it was okay. there was no rush, no pressure—just the quiet reassurance of someone willing to help.

with a deep breath, you slowly reached out, your hand brushing against his before you fully placed it in his. his grip was firm but careful, his warmth grounding you instantly.

“there we go,” he said, his lips curving into a gentle smile, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. “trust me, you won’t regret it.”

꒰🍦꒱

as he led you through the crowd, weaving effortlessly between clusters of people, you couldn’t help but cast a skeptical glance around. the farther you went, the more unfamiliar the path seemed, and unease began to bubble in your chest.

“uh, where exactly are we going?” you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty as you noticed the thinning crowd around you. the lights grew dimmer, and the sounds of chatter and camera flashes faded into the background.

he glanced back at you, his smile still intact but now carrying a hint of mischief. “someplace better.”

“better?” you echoed, eyebrows furrowing as you looked around the increasingly exclusive-looking hallway. “this... doesn’t look like a public area.”

he chuckled lightly at your tone, the sound rich and melodic. “just trust me,” he said again, his grip on your hand steady as he led you past a velvet rope that you were almost certain regular attendees weren’t allowed to cross.

“this is off-limits, isn’t it?” you pressed, your voice dropping to a whisper as your eyes darted around, half-expecting someone to stop you. “are we going to get in trouble?”

“relax,” he said, his tone reassuring but laced with amusement. “you’re with me.”

“and who exactly are you?” you muttered under your breath, half to yourself, but he must’ve heard because he chuckled again, this time more quietly, as though enjoying your skepticism.

finally, after navigating a winding staircase and passing through an unassuming doorway, he stepped aside and gestured for you to step forward. you hesitated, peering inside, but the sight that greeted you left you momentarily speechless.

the balcony lounge stretched out before you, a space elevated high above the main floor. plush seating and dim lighting exuded exclusivity, while the glass barrier at the edge provided a breathtaking view of the entire venue.

“wow,” you breathed out, unable to stop the word from tumbling out as you stepped closer to the glass barrier. the view was breathtaking—perfect in every sense. from here, you could see the entire venue laid out like a grand tapestry. the runway stretched out in a seamless line, illuminated by artful lights that bathed it in a radiant glow. models moved gracefully, their outfits shimmering like living art, and the audience’s reactions created a living pulse that filled the space.

your fingers lightly brushed against the cool glass as you leaned closer, your wide eyes drinking in every detail. “this is... unbelievable. it’s perfect,” you murmured, almost to yourself, as though afraid the words would break the magic of the moment.

behind you, the man watched, his grin growing. he leaned his elbows on the railing, his posture casual, but his gaze was anything but. he seemed entirely captivated—not by the view of the runway, but by you.

his amusement deepened as you watches you press a hand over your heart, still marveling at the scene below. the way you took it all in, so openly and earnestly, made him forget, for a fleeting moment, where you even were.

he let his gaze linger—on the way the soft lighting kissed your features, the faint remnants of tears you’d wiped away earlier adding a delicate vulnerability to your expression. he found himself studying the small details: the curve of your lips as you whispered to yourself, the way your fingers traced the glass as though committing the view to memory.

but then you turned abruptly, catching him mid-thought. your eyes, still wide with wonder, locked with his. his breath hitched slightly, but he masked it with a sheepish chuckle, pushing himself off the railing.

“you still didn’t answer my question,” you said, tilting your head slightly. there was a curious sharpness to your tone, but it was softened by the lingering gratitude in your gaze. "who are you?"

his grin returned, wider this time, his earlier moment of surprise replaced by easy charm. “ah, you caught me,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “my name's... yeonjun.”

he extended a hand towards you once more, his movements fluid and confident. “and you are?”

you nodded slightly in acknowledgment, offering your name as your hand met his, your voice steady but carrying a thread of bashfulness. his fingers were warm against yours, the handshake firm yet oddly gentle. the touch lingered for a fraction longer than necessary, a subtle pause that neither of you commented on. when you both pulled away, you cleared your throat, the small noise cutting through the charged silence.

the quiet that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it carried a certain weight, filled with the quiet sounds of the fashion show below. the models moved like art in motion, their outfits catching the dramatic lighting as they walked with precision and elegance. the audience’s murmur blended with the music, creating an atmosphere that was both electric and intimate.

you leaned slightly against the barrier, completely taken by the view. the exclusivity of the lounge afforded you an unobstructed panorama of the venue, and for the first time all night, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be. the glistening runway, the precision of the models, the applause—it all felt surreal, like stepping into a dream.

beside you, yeonjun shifted slightly, his arms resting lazily on the railing as he turned his gaze toward you. his expression softened as he took in the way your eyes sparkled, your awe so apparent it made his lips curve into a fond smile. you were so wrapped up in the scene before you, that you didn’t notice his gaze lingering. he couldn’t help but wonder if you even realized how effortlessly captivating you looked in that moment. “so,” you spoke suddenly, breaking the quiet with a slight turn of your head toward him, completely unaware of the way he quickly snapped his eyes back to the show. “how do you even know about this place? and how are you able to be in such an exclusive part of the venue?”

yeonjun blinked, his lips quirking into a mischievous smile as he leaned back, his hands casually resting against the railing. “ah, you’ve caught me,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of teasing. “let’s just say... i have my ways.”

your brow furrowed, crossing your arms in playful disbelief. “that’s it? ‘i have my ways?’”

he chuckled, the sound deep and warm, his shoulders shifting slightly as he leaned closer to you with a grin. “well, what else do you want me to say?” he teased, his voice low and smooth. “i can’t just give away all my secrets in one go.”

you raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “you’re not exactly giving away any secrets.”

“true,” he conceded with a shrug, the glint of amusement never leaving his eyes. “but that’s the fun of it, isn’t it?”

“the fun of being vague?” you countered, though there was an undeniable twinkle of curiosity in your gaze. “so, what exactly do you do? are you in fashion too? a model? designer? photographer?”

yeonjun hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin in mock contemplation. “why don’t you take a guess?” he said, his tone teasing, clearly enjoying the vagueness.

you rolled your eyes, though you couldn't suppress the small smile that tugged at your lips. “this is ridiculous. you’re impossible.”

“impossible?” yeonjun repeats with a smirk, clearly unfazed by your challenge. “nah, i’m just... fun.” he flashed a wink, his voice smooth as honey. “besides, who wouldn’t want to leave a little mystery?”

you rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. "you sure love being mysterious, huh?" the question was playful, but you couldn't shake the sense that there was more to him than he was letting on.

yeonjun just chuckled softly, and there was something about the sound—rich, smooth, and unhurried—that made it feel like the world around you slowed for just a second. it was like you were both in on some private joke, sharing the moment despite the crowd around you. you didn’t mind the silence between you two; it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was just peaceful, like the calm after a storm.

just then, the third set of pieces emerged on the runway, and your breath caught in your throat as you took in the intricate details, the stunning designs. you couldn’t help but feel a thrill rise up inside you as you watched the models glide down the runway. the way the fabric moved, the way the pieces complemented the models' bodies—it was all so... perfect.

you leaned forward slightly, eyes sparkling with excitement as you pointed out the dress that had caught your eye. “look at that one,” you said, your voice filled with awe. “the fabric—it's so delicate, but the design is so strong. and the color, it’s not just a plain red. it has this... depth, like layers of crimson blending together. the pleats on the skirt, the texture—it’s all so well-thought-out.”

yeonjun’s gaze flickered toward you, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise as he watched you closely, as though trying to figure out how you could notice all these details with such intensity. “you really know your stuff,” he remarked, his voice thick with amusement. “how can you notice all those details? most people wouldn’t even see half of that.”

you paused mid-rant, your excitement temporarily muted by the attention. your cheeks flushed slightly as you felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness. “well,” you said, hesitating for just a moment, “i... i’m acatually an aspiring fashion designer.”

yeonjun’s eyes softened at that, and there was a flicker of something in them—something... intrigued, maybe? he leaned in just a little, his posture shifting to show more interest. “an aspiring designer, huh?” he repeated, his tone surprisingly gentle for someone who’d been so teasing moments ago. “i should’ve known. there’s no way anyone could appreciate the details as much as you do unless they had an eye for design.”

you blinked, caught off guard by how understanding he sounded. you glanced down at your hands for a moment, suddenly feeling a little more vulnerable. “i’ve been working on some of my own pieces, but, you know... still figuring things out.”

yeonjun seemed to notice your hesitation, and his expression softened even more, though there was a glimmer of something playful in his eyes. “figuring things out is part of the process,” he said, his voice rich with warmth. “trust me, i’ve been there too.”

you glanced up at him, surprised by how genuine he sounded. “you have?” you asked, almost disbelieving.

he gave a small nod, his gaze briefly turning distant, as though lost in a memory. "yeah. the fashion world isn’t as easy as people think. but the ones who stick with it... they make it in the end."

there was a brief pause, and you took in his words, the weight of them settling on you. you weren’t sure why, but something about him made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t so far from your dream after all.

“thanks,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. it was more than just gratitude—it was a quiet affirmation that maybe you were on the right path, after all. ꒰🍦꒱ as the models continued to walk down the runway, you couldn’t help but get lost in the details of every piece. each look had its own story to tell, and you felt an overwhelming urge to share that excitement with someone, anyone.

yeonjun, fortunately, was right there, listening with quiet amusement as you rambled on.

"oh my gosh, look at that one!" you exclaimed, leaning slightly forward, pointing to a model in a simple yet striking gown. “the draping is just... it’s absolutely flawless. see how the fabric hugs the body and then just cascades out at the bottom? it’s almost like it has a life of its own. like the material is alive, you know? and the way it catches the light—"

yeonjun nodded, still watching you with that soft smile. “i see it. you’re right, it’s like the fabric is moving with the model, almost like it’s breathing with them.”

you looked at him briefly, surprised at how well he was following along. “exactly!” you said, your voice full of excitement. “and see the next one? the detailing on the neckline—it’s so delicate but intricate at the same time. the tiny beads embroidered around the collar, it adds this elegant touch, almost like it’s a necklace built into the fabric.” yeonjun could only chuckle lightly, amused by the way your eyes lit up every time you spotted something new.

you pointed again, this time at a model in a dress with a sharp, angular hem. “look at the sharpness of those edges! it’s almost architectural, like someone sculpted the fabric into that shape. it gives such a bold, confident vibe!”

yeonjun chuckled softly, watching her animated gestures with a twinkle in his eye. “hmm, you're spot on. such sharp, clean lines.”

“right? and the fabric choice, too. it has this stiffness to it, but not in an uncomfortable way—more like it’s meant to stand up on its own.” you beamed, caught up in the details.

his eyes softened. “you really notice everything, huh?"

you waved him off, already distracted by the next model. “oh, and this one! the way the sleeves puff out like that, it’s so dramatic but playful at the same time! and the fabric’s so airy—it looks like the model’s floating in it!”

yeonjun's gaze stayed on you, amused. “floating, huh? you make it sound so magical.”

“it is magical!” you responded, almost laughing at how much you’d already gotten lost in the runway. “and look at this one—look at how the waist is cinched so perfectly, giving the whole outfit such a nice structure, but it doesn’t feel too stiff. the way it moves... it's like it was made for the model’s body.”

yeonjun smiled, nodding. “i couldn't agree more.”

as the show continued, you kept going, pointing out the minute details that caught your eye, from the slight pleats on the edges of a sleeve to the way the fabric billowed out like a cloud. yeonjun simply listened, always agreeing with a small nod, a quiet “mhm” or “i see it,” but mostly, he just watched you, the way you effortlessly lost yourself in the designs.

you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d felt so... alive. It was as if you were standing right in the middle of a dream, and you weren’t afraid to look at every single detail that made it so perfect.

and yeonjun? well, he just couldn’t take his eyes off you.

once the event came to its dreaded end, you couldn’t help but let out a long sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly in disappointment. you pouted just a little, your lips forming a soft, almost melancholic curve. “i miss it already,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, as if the emptiness left by the show weighed heavily on you. “it feels like it ended too soon.”

yeonjun, who had been watching you the whole time with that subtle, amused smile, chuckled softly in response. it was a warm sound, almost affectionate, as if he found your sincere reaction endearing. "yeah, it’s always like that,” he agreed, his voice rich with fondness. “time flies when you’re caught up in something that amazing.”

you sighed again, almost as if you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something so beautiful had come to an end far too quickly. "i wish i could’ve stayed in that moment a little longer. it felt... perfect."

yeonjun’s smile widened just a bit, and he leaned against the railing, his gaze flickering between you and the slowly clearing crowd. "you made the most of it, though," he said, voice steady and reassuring. “not many people would’ve appreciated every little detail like you did. that’s something special.”

you glanced over at him, a soft blush rising to your cheeks at his words. "i guess i got a little carried away," you admitted with a shy laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. the thought of how you had been rambling with excitement made your heart skip a little. "but, i mean, how could i not? it was all just... breathtaking."

his eyes softened at your response, and he gave you a playful, knowing smile. "it’s nice to see someone so passionate about it," he said, his voice light but carrying a layer of sincerity. "you really got lost in the moment."

as the last few guests started trickling out of the venue, the noise around you began to swell, the sounds of chatter and the click of high heels filling the air. the once intimate atmosphere of the show now felt overwhelming with the crowds, the room suddenly feeling far too cramped.

yeonjun’s eyes scanned the space briefly, his expression thoughtful. then, without missing a beat, he looked back at you and raised an eyebrow. "i know a less crowded way out," he said, his voice calm amidst the growing chaos. "let me lead you out. wouldn't want you getting lost in this crowd."

you glanced around at the sea of people, their voices blending together in a cacophony, and immediately felt a little more anxious. you didn’t want to get lost in the rush of people, and his offer seemed like the perfect solution. after a moment of hesitation, you finally let out a soft breath and placed your hand in his, your fingers brushing against his palm with a fleeting but comforting touch.

“thank you. again,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the quiet sincerity of it making you feel strangely grounded in the midst of everything.

he gave your hand a light squeeze, his smile growing just a little warmer, more genuine. "anything for the most enthusiastic fashion designer slash critic i know," he teased lightly, his tone playful but kind.

you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling an unexpected warmth blooming inside you. you wanted to ask more, know more about him, but the moment felt so peaceful, and for once, you were content to just be present.

with a subtle nod, yeonjun led you through a quiet, hidden exit, avoiding the growing crowds of people who were starting to spill out into the streets. the path he guided you down felt like a secret, and somehow, you didn’t question it. instead, you were more than glad to have met someone as kind-hearted as him on what was turning out to be one of the most important days of your life.

once you were out of the building, the bustling noise from the show seemed so far behind you. yeonjun, still holding your hand, walked with a calm ease, his presence making the city’s energy feel just a little more bearable. his touch was like an anchor, steady and reassuring.

“let’s get you to a car,” yeonjun said as he turned toward a sleek limo waiting nearby. you blinked in surprise as he casually waved to the driver, the gesture effortlessly commanding attention.

you paused, a small frown tugging at your lips as you shook your head. “what? oh, i couldn’t possibly—”

but yeonjun wasn’t having it. with a playful smile, he waved off your hesitation. “oh, come on,” he said, his tone coaxing yet gentle. “it’s not every day i get to be this chivalrous.” he gestured toward the car with a teasing glint in his eyes. “besides, you’ve earned it.”

before you could protest further, yeonjun ushered you toward the limo with a gentle hand on your back. you sighed, defeated by his insistent kindness, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse. his warmth, his attentiveness—it was all so comforting.

as you climbed into the car, you took a deep breath, sinking back against the plush seat, the quiet hum of the limo's engine making everything feel just a little bit surreal. once you were settled in, you turned to yeonjun, your eyes filled with gratitude.

“thank you, yeonjun,” you said again, your voice filled with so much gratitude that it almost felt like the words themselves couldn’t fully express what you were feeling. “really. for everything,” you continued, your gaze soft and sincere. “i don’t even know how to explain it, but… i honestly wouldn’t have made it through today without you. you made all the difference—more than you could know.”

yeonjun gave a small, dismissive shrug, his eyes glinting with an almost mischievous gleam. “it’s nothing, really” he said casually, though there was something in his voice that suggested he truly meant it. “if it's any consolation, your company and your little rant was something i truly enjoyed.”

the words, simple as they were, made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t quite expected. you nodded, smiling softly. but before you could say anything else, yeonjun’s expression shifted, becoming slightly more serious. “well then, see you soon.”

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shadyvoxtruth · 1 year ago

Text

How ShadyVox Threatened Myself & Others For Years

My name is Martin Billany but I am also known as LittleKuriboh in the YouTube sphere/Yu-Gi-Oh fandom.

I am posting this here for posterity in case all of my other posts elsewhere about it are removed. Also because there has never been a single unified place to find all of this information presented in sequence.

Patrick, also known by his pseudonyms of ShadyVox or Scratch21's Matt Robinson or Blake Swift, spent the better part of 2019-2023 both threatening me and manipulating a group of real victims.

A brief history - for those who don't know, Patrick/ShadyVox and myself were heavily involved in the "abridged series" world in the late 2000s/mid 2010s. I myself started the whole abridged parody nonsense with Yu-Gi-Oh Abridged, and Patrick would follow suit by doing a Yu-Gi-Oh GX Abridged. We met through content creation and formed a friendship through it. Not best friends or anything, but friendly enough.

Patrick would later leave the abridged series stuff behind and start over making music, working in original animation for popular internet channels, etc. Stuff he was genuinely very good at. It was a strong choice to move away from parody content, as it likely would have held him back at some point.

At a certain point in 2018, I received a communication from him that requested I remove certain YouTube comments on my videos that featured him. These comments were demanding to know why Patrick was following various right wing channels and were calling him alt-right, etc.

I agreed to remove the comments because I considered him a friend and automatically assumed there was some big misunderstanding. As it turned out, he was subscribed to a few channels that caused me to confront him.

I was emotional and upset, admittedly. Things politically were at a fever pitch and I had been swept up by it. I have included screencaps of our conversation.

Later I would apologize to him for my outburst and try to make amends. You're probably wondering why I would include this since it doesn't seem to involve Patrick threatening me, and it seems if anything to suggest I got upset at him.

That is because I truly believe this is the moment Patrick decided he was going to find some way to come after me. I believe that Patrick had spent a lot of time creating a mask for himself, and had worn it very well, and the moment someone saw through it for even a moment he decided I had to be dealt with somehow.

At this point - mid 2018 - Patrick and I were not close. We hadn't worked on anything together in half a decade. We really only kept in touch in a cursory fashion. So I imagine this interaction stuck in Patrick's craw something awful.

I was, however, closer with the person Patrick had worked in conjunction with on his abridged series, X. These days X is my best friend. Back then, I don't know how close we were. But definitely closer than either of us were with Patrick.

One day in 2019, entirely out of the blue, Patrick messages me privately to inform me that X once slept with a girl who was 17 when he was in his early 20s.

My own spouse was sexually assaulted before I met them, and as a result I have a no tolerance policy on anything that even could resemble assault. So I immediately ended my friendship with X.

And as I was doing so, Patrick told me repeatedly that I was overreacting.

As you can see, by Patrick/Shady's own words, this was a long time ago. Just under a decade or so, by my count.

And most importantly, Patrick had been aware of this for the whole decade or so and chose this very moment to tell me that this happened.

I want you to keep that in mind, especially the fact that when I said I was ending my friendship with X, Patrick's actual response was "it was a long time ago, he's gotten better."

It was painful to end my friendship with X, but I did. I told him that if he could provide satisfactory proof that what Patrick had said didn't represent the facts of the situation, I could be his friend again. Until then, I cut off all communication from X.

A week or so later I received specific evidence that pointed to a situation wherein Patrick was intentionally misrepresenting what happened, or the alleged victim's story. The alleged victim VERY specifically disagreed with Patrick.

You'll note that I'm not including screen caps of these conversations - that is because the alleged victim, and other involved parties, DO NOT WANT to be part of any of this and have needed actual therapy because of Patrick's behavior in the past. Not just here.

Anyway.

I returned to Patrick/Shady and told him there had been a misunderstanding. I wanted to clear the air and give him a chance to say something along the lines of "oh okay, obviously I had my facts wrong." I mean, as you yourself have just read - he said himself that this was a long time ago. Maybe he got some wires crossed.

This is how Patrick actually responded:

The screenshots were taken on different dates, hence why his twitter icon looks different suddenly.

But yes. His response to me explaining that the alleged victim disagreed with his stance, was to insist that the alleged victim must be lying and that I should be absolutely infuriated.

After he'd tried to tell me that there was no point in being upset about this information that he had sat on for the better part of a decade.

Patrick continued to scream at me via dm, repeatedly requesting that I give him my phone number so we could talk about this. I assume this is because he didn't want any kind of text evidence of what he was going to say to me, or what he was doing.

He would later, mid-conversation, tell me that he was deleting all of his dms to me. Not sure why. It doesn't remove them from my side of the conversation, so I still have access to all of them. I have not shared the entire private message thread yet, because it's sensitive and involves people beyond just myself. But if the dms ever do need to be made public entirely, I have them.

I ended up blocking Patrick during this very conversation because he had begun screaming at me, behaving extremely unhinged and in a frightening manner. I honestly think he had hoped that I would initially try to defend my friend from his accusation, in which case he was going to fly off the handle then. But because I had genuinely believed him and removed my friend from my life, only to then learn Patrick's story didn't hold water, he had no choice but to lash out now. When it didn't make any sense to suddenly be irate about a thing he had told me about, and had literally just said "it was a long time ago."

Within 24 hours, Patrick had sent me a threatening email saying he was going to expose me for everything I was doing. I have attached the highlights of the email, parts that don't involve other people's names.

Some of the references in this email - specifically about how I've associated with others and ignored people calling me out for it - are related to a podcast I was on, alongside Patrick. Until recently I had indeed tried to move on with my life after a number of the people involved had revealed themselves to be toxic. I had made efforts to separate myself from those people. It had been years since I'd really had any direct connection to any of them.

I do indeed regret not speaking out about it sooner.

Having said this, Patrick himself was equally as guilty for not speaking out - and had in fact spent a significantly larger amount of time talking to/working with the people in question.

As such, I believe a lot of this is some form of bizarre projection on his part.

I ignored the email because I was a) worried that he had suddenly snapped, and b) I didn't think any of the content warranted a response.

A day later, I received this email from Patrick where his tone has changed entirely:

As you can see, this is more in line with the reality of the situation. He is apologizing profusely and insisting I didn't actually do anything wrong, and that he was the one in the wrong.

You'll also note that he signs this particular email "Patrick." That is because it is his real name, and I believe he was possibly appealing to my humanity and the part of me that might still have seen a friendship worth salvaging. Otherwise I could not tell you why he signed his real name - he typically hates using it.

I still did not reply because at this point I was confused and scared and wanted him to leave me alone. And to that point, he had specifically stated at the end of his email that he was the problem and he would not "involve himself in my life any longer."

The police were contacted and they told him to stop. I had hoped that my part in all of this was over.

Later that very month, Patrick announced on his ShadyVox twitter account that a new GX Abridged was coming out for April Fools.

When it is posted on April 1st - less than a month after he had sent his email saying he would remove himself from my life, and not long after the police have visited him - the video contains many references to our conversations, and specifically the fact that the police got involved.

Yes, after being told by the police to stop - and after writing an email that insisted he knew he was the real problem and would be getting help - he decides to make a mockery of the situation publicly, in a manner that nobody else will understand. Except the people it is targeting.

The tweets about this video are the only thing remaining on Patrick's twitter account, as he had purged it some time ago.

(An aside - I do recall someone attempting to call Patrick out for being toxic previously on twitter, and his response was to spam them with the words "PROVE IT. PROVE IT. PROVE IT." until they gave up. I would include screenshots of this, but like I said - he purged his entire twitter except for this specific GX Abridged video he'd thrown together in a week to respond to the fact that the authorities had intervened to get him to stop)

One other important element of this video - which is where, I believe, this whole thing veers into genuinely disturbing territory - is that it is interspersed with garbled footage intended to look like some sort of creepypasta/vhs effect. At the end of the GX Abridged video, it is clear that Patrick is using this video to allude to some upcoming song tracks he is producing.

Songs that are tailored to threaten me in cryptic, indirect ways that very few people pick up on.

But I'll get to those later.

During 2019, Patrick reaches out to actual victims of the toxic individuals from the podcast I used to be on more than half a decade before any of the stuff chronologized in this post. He tells them lies, and demonizes me to the point that it convinces them that I am still both defending/supporting the toxic individuals, and actively mocking their victims in private.

I am aware of this because Patrick tweets about it - before deleting the tweets entirely. He even attempts to throw popular abridging group TeamFourStar under the bus, which I assume was merely out of spite because they had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.

I wish I had screengrabbed the tweets when they were still up, but there is still remaining evidence that they did exist.

Here is someone posting on Reddit about it - he only references one tweet, but this was around the time Patrick was posting and then immediately deleting what he'd said. I honestly can only assume - but I think he was fishing for people to latch on to what he was saying and contact him privately.

Not to mention the fact that the police had specifically told him to stop, so that was likely in the back of his mind also.

Here is someone replying to a since suspended twitter account that was discussing what Patrick was saying about TeamFourStar. Obviously I have no clear way to prove it, but please know that I have no reason to make that much up and point to a random ass tweet.

I imagine Patrick (not the suspended person in the above screencap) realized the best way to not seem directly to blame or involved at all was to remove any and all posts he'd made. Admittedly it would have worked if I didn't have the dms and these emails.

Speaking of emails, I received a third one in late 2019 - as you can see, Patrick's promise of leaving me alone forever didn't even last a year.

You'll note that he's speaking as though the second email never even happened. He's also just plain lying through his teeth for a significant part of it, but I think it's most important to note that this email requires you to assume the second email never got written.

He has gone from pages and pages of "of course it wasn't your fault, I'm the problem, you're good, I'm bad" to "I told you..."

Also, I think the words "You tried to damage me" should be highlighted here as it reinforces my theory that all of this was about me insulting him for all the right wing channels he'd subscribed to. Which, to me, was barely even a thought in my mind at this point.

So I choose to ignore this email also. Because y'know, why would I even humor responding to the guy at this point? I decide that I will only speak on any of this if it becomes public conversation. Until then, anything that happens would be because of Patrick's actions.

I do let my friends know about all of this - including TeamFourStar, who through this entire thing have been blameless and didn't even do anything to Patrick to begin with. And every time Patrick does something, I make sure people in my circle are aware and to be cautious.

Meanwhile Patrick alludes to all of this indirectly in the songs he posts to his YouTube channel. Yes, a situation that involves actual victims and one alleged victim that Patrick hadn't spoken to in years. He chose to make reference to all of this in videos where he raps, amongst other things.

There are a number of songs that feature references to this, it's mainly these two that I want to focus on

Birdy Boy is a song that is explicitly referencing Patrick's issues with me, without actually going into any details about what the issue is.

It is so clearly about me that people pick up on it - and rather than confront the issue or have a dialogue, Patrick decides to pin the comment about it to the top of the comments page.

Of course, if Patrick made any attempt to directly describe the issue or explain himself, it would likely result in the police becoming involved once again.

So he sticks to singing about the whole thing.

This next song is the most upsetting one.

Patrick/Shady writes a song called "Joker" about a psychotic individual murdering someone who "used to be funny." This is, specifically, the song that he teases at the end of the GX Abridged Episode 21 video he posted earlier in 2019 for april fools.

He has teased it multiple times on his twitter, and elsewhere, with the words "Coming Soon." The very same words he used to title his third threatening email.

Here is the email, placed next to some lyrics from the song Joker.

He is seemingly very specifically trying to threaten me without anyone noticing, in plain sight. I was unable to watch the video in full until after all of this stuff came out into the public. It was only through reading people's responses and the lyrics that I realized what he was doing.

Again, at this point I am doing and saying nothing publicly. Just watching this behavior and waiting.

Meanwhile in 2021, a videogame based on the web series TOME gets fully funded and Christopher Niosi - the creator of TOME - reaches out to the voice cast to see if they'll return. I myself was the voice of Nylocke, one of the main characters, and Patrick was the voice of THE main character.

As such, I told Christopher no and explained my reasons.

And here is Christopher's response.

Please pay careful attention to the fact that Christopher Niosi flat out says he already knew Patrick was doing this stuff - it isn't just me imagining it.

As a result of this interaction, I do not reprise my role as Nylocke and Christopher Niosi chooses to just recast every single character. Please note that he could have just recast Patrick, but did not. As a result, I feel responsible for all of the original cast losing out on work. It hurts to think about. But at least I feel like I did the right thing.

One member of the TOME production staff takes it upon themselves to reach out to Patrick personally. They discover that he is planning to write more songs/raps that target me. They ask him nicely to stop. He insists that he has to do this. Y'know, make vague allusions to extremely sensitive topics that he lied about in the form of song. Has to do it.

The member of production staff tells Patrick he should seek professional help.

Patrick ignores them.

Patrick continues to engage in behavior that, while not openly hostile or even specifically targeting anyone, is very clearly intended as mockery at best and a threat at worst until 2023 when all of this comes to a head.

In August of 2023, the real victims that Patrick has manipulated make a callout post aimed at myself and TeamFourStar. It specifically cites Patrick's testimony and the songs he has posted. They have been misled, but their anger is understandable.

Within a week, it becomes apparent to all sides that this is Patrick's fault. The person who posted the callout takes it down and apologizes to everyone. Not just me. They apologize to TeamFourStar, and to X.

And only then do I speak publicly about what Patrick has been doing.

I share all of the screencaps I've posted here, and give context. It's all a little muddled as at the time, my cat was dying of terminal cancer and so all of my posts are somewhat scatterbrained and aren't in chronological order. But it's still remarkably clear to everyone that Patrick has manipulated this whole thing, starting in 2019.

And that's only the stuff I feel comfortable sharing.

Since the callout post first dropped in 2023 and I began pointing people's attention toward Patrick, Patrick himself has been entirely silent. He has dropped off the internet with nary a word in defense. Not a single person directly associated with what happened has attempted to dispute my description of events.

This isn't my word versus his. It is my word versus silence.

I have it on good authority that Patrick is alive and well. I am grateful for that much. My attempts have not been to hurt him, but to defend myself. My efforts have not been to hunt him down and crucify him, but to make people aware of what transpired - and what could have easily been undone by Patrick/Shady just choosing to stop.

Instead a number of victims, and people who never did a thing, experienced a considerable amount of trauma as a result of his thoughtless and spiteful actions.

Patrick is a remarkably talented individual, and it makes me sad I have to be the one to show people who he is. I genuinely think all of this could have been avoided. It's so meaningless. It's just pain on top of pain.

And Patrick stood in the center of it all, not just pulling people's strings but practically uprooting them and then acting like he didn't do a thing.

I'm not expecting an apology, and I'm not asking for his cancelation, whatever shape that would take. But I do think it's important that people know this happened, that he chose this.

He did this for almost no reason to a person he considered a friend, who worked on videos with him.

It just seems like the responsible thing, to make sure people are somewhat aware that he could do this to them if they aren't cautious and careful and super aware.

I'm sorry to anyone disappointed and hurt by all of this information.

Believe me, I understand.

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