Smoke curled into the air.
Yichen took another drag from the cigarette between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly in the darkness.
His white shirt was unbuttoned, the fabric loose against his skin as he leaned back into the couch, legs spread carelessly. His tie hung slack around his neck, forgotten and uneven. Water dripped from his damp hair, sliding down the side of his face and disappearing beneath his collar.
He had not changed out of his clothes.
The wristwatch on his hand ticked slowly, each second quiet but merciless in the still apartment.
"Ahh…"
Yichen exhaled softly, watching the smoke leave his lips and twist above him like something alive.
The diamond necklace around his neck rested cold against his skin. He opened his eyes and gazed at the smoke swirling in the dark.
"Fucking hell," he muttered, then chuckled under his breath.
The apartment was almost completely dark. If anyone walked in, the only thing they would see was the brief flicker of light from the cigarette in his hand.
His fingers moved to the chain around his neck.
He gripped it slowly, raising the pendant to his face. The engraved Y dangled between his fingers, catching what little light existed in the room.
For a moment, Yichen stared at it.
Then his memories began to distort.
His jaw tightened and the pendant slipped from his fingers and fell back against his chest.
Yichen took another drag from the cigarette, inhaling slowly. Then his gaze dropped to the half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the table.
He reached for it, and lifted it to his lips.
The burn was sharp as it slid down his throat, but he did not stop. He swallowed it all, until there was nothing left.
Then he dropped the empty bottle back onto the table.
It landed with a dull sound.
Yichen frowned.
These days, getting drunk did not even take the memories away anymore.
With a tired sigh, he leaned back and closed his eyes.
I need to sleep.
Fuck.
___________________________
"Mo Fei, I'm changing your schedule from now on," Louis announced the moment the doors to Mo Fei's apartment shut behind them.
Mo Fei slumped onto the couch, where Chen Yu was already drowning his emotions in a glass of whiskey.
"What?" Mo Fei looked up at him. "Why?"
"Because you've been held back in your career for the past three months," Louis said firmly. "Scandal or no scandal, it's my job to make sure you rise above it."
Mo Fei fell silent.
Louis was right.
Ever since waking up in this body, the only things he had really done were sleep, relax, cause trouble, and take the job from Xi Beauty. Apart from that, he had not shown much ambition to climb back to the top.
Not because he did not want to.
But because no real opportunity had been placed in front of him.
Now, things were different.
He was going to close Zhen's runway show alongside Asia's top superstar, Zhang Yichen.
Most models would kill for an opportunity like this.
Literally.
Being scouted by Zhen was already a miracle. Closing his show was heaven-defying luck.
In the modelling industry, opening and closing a runway show were not small positions. The model who opened the show set the tone. They carried the first impression, the first shock, the first wave of excitement.
But the model who closed it?
That was different.
The closing look was what stayed in people's minds. It was what the press discussed, what the audience waited for, what the internet replayed frame by frame after the lights went out.
Presence, Influence and talent mattered.
And now, Mo Fei was going to make his comeback through this stage.
He did not entirely like the idea of working beside Zhang Yichen. In fact, the thought alone made his soul itch. But if standing next to that cold-faced man was the path back to the top, then Mo Fei would not refuse it.
He stood from the couch and began pacing slowly around the room.
"Louis," he said, his expression turning thoughtful, "we'll have to do something different. Training, exercise, runway practice, image control…"
He paused and looked at Louis.
"By tomorrow, Zhen will announce Yichen as the one closing his show. The internet won't expect anyone else. Since they already know I'll be among the models, they'll assume I'm just another model trying to rise again... "
"But in reality," Louis said, finishing the thought for him, "we'll use it to climb the ranks of showbiz ourselves."
Mo Fei smiled.
There it was.
The opening, his comeback.
Chen Yu lifted his glass slightly. "But working with Yichen is never easy."
Both men turned to look at him.
Chen Yu leaned back against the couch, his expression unusually serious.
"I've never seen Yichen willingly work beside another model. That man is cold and terrifying, runway or not."
"It's true," Louis said, nodding in agreement.
Chen Yu's mouth curved into a small chuckle. "And he doesn't particularly seem pleased to walk beside you."
Mo Fei frowned. "How so?"
Chen Yu's smile widened. "Don't you remember?"
Mo Fei stared at him.
Chen Yu took a slow sip from his glass before delivering the blow.
"You once cancelled a show, and he filled in for you."
Mo Fei, "…"
Ah.
So that was why the ice block looked like he wanted to personally drag him across the runway and bury him beneath the stage.