Outsider Syndrome: Everlasting (Bonus Content)

Chapter 1 - "Perfectionist"

Shiina Kisaragi's POV:

Asking me to be his model out of the blue was the trigger that brought us closer together. As a girl with boundless insecurities and self-doubt, his fixation was bewildering from the get-go. The parts of me I hated—that I wished I could do away with—he adored.

To him, I was his 'goddess'. Worthy of admiration, reverence; somebody to be held in the highest regard.

There was a period where he tailed me like a devoted servant, complimenting even the manner in which I breathed (granted, that had caused plentiful head turns, and I beseeched him to tone it down a notch or ten). He was protective of me and was the first to defend my honour. Although the public generally regarded his personality as overbearing and suffocating, for the most part, I found it loveable. With one glance alone, my peers found plenty to ridicule me about, but upon our first encounter, he found copious of other things to love—things, he never thought twice about expressing to me. For people to find that side of him to be deplorable never made sense to me.

He had a plethora of other amazing sides.

"Banri, haven't you taken enough photos?"

"A few more, Kisa. Turn this way."

I complied, pivoting to give him a better glimpse of my attire.

I'd become his part-time model (unofficially).

Banri was a gifted fashion designer and stylist, and the co-founder of the 'Beautician Boyz', a group of (handsome) beauty gurus. His efforts caught the attention of a bigwig in the fashion industry, Noir Nakatani, where he was even offered an internship. Although that offer had fallen through, the BB's feats garnered ample attention across Japan. They regularly got involved with celebrities, were featured in countless magazines, articles, interviews, and hosted occasional fashion shows at Hoshizaki.

I partook in one of them where I got to know him and few of the other members quite well. Since, Banri insisted on coordinating my outfits for me, but it wasn't until we started dating that it became a reality. I sometimes wore the clothes he designed for his BB work or in his free time. At first, I held some reservations, but I was weak to compliments (which he, ironically, was full of). These photos were solely for his own reference and were never shared, which made things better.

Today, I'd visited his house and had been trying on outfits for hours now.

"Are all these really necessary?" I asked, sensing an oncoming blush. I didn't mind the whole process, and the clothes themselves were cute and well within my comfort-range, but after all, having his undivided attention like this only made me self-conscious.

The shutter for the camera went off, positioned directly at my face, and not the ensemble.

I pursed my mouth.

"Okay. That last one was unessential."

Banri lowered the camera and allowed it to hang at his chest by the straps. Per usual, he was dazzling. Sometimes, I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that somebody could be so handsome, and that this somebody was my boyfriend. His fashion sense was impeccable, which was a given since he designed all of his clothes. Undoubtedly, he was out of my league. Yet, habitually, he insisted it was the opposite.

"Correction," he said, flashing me a flawless grin. "All photos of you are essential."

His eyes sparkled as he hugged it near.

"I'll frame them all."

"That's creepy. I don't want my face plastered all over your room."

"Then, I'll make an altar dedicated to you."