There are Many Flowers in Seoul

Chapter Twenty

What made a young woman blossom into a flower?

Was it because she fell in love and, thusly, transitioned from girl to woman?

Or, was it something she felt bloom within herself, in her very heart and soul?

Rose couldn't be sure. All she knew was that she hadn't yet become the blossom she aspired to be. Her mother had found the flower inside of her when she'd discovered her path in life – her journey – which made her want to move forwards and grow into her full potential.

While her parents assured her that such a transformation awaited her in the future, Rose couldn't help but think she ought to have discovered her purpose already. She was nineteen-years old; no longer a child, and still uncertain enough that she was afraid to grasp at the title of young woman, and so she eked out her days in a directionless limbo, going where she was taken, following the lead of others, and doing as she was told.

The defiant nature she displayed in the face of men like Tae-won appeared only in rebellious bursts. That part of her personality was a candle flame on a window sill, burning brightly until there came a fluttering breeze of authority and flickering out to nothing more than a smoking wick.

Rose longed for a flame which didn't dwindle and die so easily; she yearned for a passionate fire fuelled by her ambition, courage, and determination to be her own person, to burn more brightly than anyone else.

At what, she didn't know.

Rose only knew that she wanted to be the girl she hoped lurked deep down inside of her – the girl holding the match, waiting for it to ignite – the burning wildflower which longed unfurl petals as bold and brilliant as an inferno.

That girl was not the one she saw in the mirror, swathed in yards of white fabric which hung off the shoulder, the sleeves tight to her elbows and then flowing out into bell shapes which covered her hands to her fingertips. The hem brushed her knees, and her feet were adorned with white ballet flats with laces from the heel which wrapped romantically around her shins and calves, the excess strings dangling from large bow knots.

This was not the sucker-punch look of a desert flower, it was the soft, demure caress of a snowdrop which hid between the clusters of wildflowers in a meadow and hoped that it would be deemed the most beautiful of them all, though it had nothing to offer but its purity and sweetness, like the virginal girl who said nothing to the boy she adored and waited patiently – longingly – for him to realise her worth by himself.

'Wonderful!' Eun-young enthused. 'And the fit is perfect! Tae-won was right. You really do have the right figure for this.'

'Are you sure all the other models are booked up?' Rose asked. 'Maybe an amateur would do...?'

'Aren't you an amateur?' Eun-young asked.

'Well – I mean – I'm kind of –'

'Rose, I'm joking.'

Rose laughed uneasily, 'Of course.'

'If we do manage to find someone, you'll be the first person I tell. Until then, let's just see how you perform and we'll go from there.'

Having already decided that she wouldn't actively sabotage the shoot, Rose could only hope that she might ruin it accidentally instead. Eun-young walked her from the dressing room and back into the photo studio, chatting animatedly about how Jin-hee had tried on the same dress and been unable to properly fill it out, to put it politely. It seemed the woman had been determined to be the sole female focus of both Tae-won and the rest of the campaign, and Rose couldn't help but wonder how she was going to react when she found out that a nobody was about to take half of her limelight.

'Si-woo, are you ready?' Eun-young asked, waving him over. 'We should take some test shots before the others arrive.'

'Wow,' Si-woo grinned broadly at the sight of Rose, and she felt a rush of embarrassment. The man snapped a candid shot of her and looked down into the digital screen on the back of his camera. 'Her skin tone is good in low light, too. This might work. Lighting!'

Before any photographs could be taken, Rose had to be positioned and lit. A lot of modelling was standing around while the shot's composition was arranged. It wasn't all about having a woman stand in front of a screen in a pretty dress while she jumped around and contorted her face into fresh expressions, it was about capturing the motion of the subject and the message they were trying to convey. If she felt a tender love, the lighting would be soft, her movements would be graceful, and the props would be whites and pastels to capture the colour of her heart. If, however, her love scorched the camera like a fire, then she would be seductive and powerful, a huntress ready to claim the man who'd stolen away her heart. The colours would be stark and bold, the lines sharp, and her movements would be purposeful and strong.

With the message of her dress being the purity of a first love, it meant Rose found herself staring wistfully at dusky pink peonies and reaching out tentatively towards an empty white birdcage as if willing the return of the lovebirds who'd taken flight together, leaving her behind with her lonely heart.

'Yah!' Jin-hee cried, from the door. 'Who is that?'

The woman crossed the studio, her heels clicking so rapidly on the linoleum they sounded like the claws of a feral cat racing through the room. Her blouse and jacket squeezed in around her waist, giving the illusion of curves when it was clear there weren't any. Jin-hee was the willowy figured wet-dream of all designers; the woman who could wear anything without fear of a bust or backside throwing off the shape. Beautiful, yes, but not curvaceous enough to carry off the dress which needed the support of boobs, so it wouldn't fall off the model.

Si-woo lowered his camera and reminded her, 'You met Rose yesterday.'

'I didn't,' she defied. 'I would remember. Yah! You! Get out! Where is Mr. Suzuki?'

'Upstairs with Hitomi getting coffee,' Eun-young told the woman impatiently. 'Would you like me to tell him that you're verbally abusing his cousin, Jin-hee? Or would you like to go and change into your first outfit?'

Jin-hee stamped her heel, and Rose stifled a laugh. She didn't know grown women really did that; she thought it was an act reserved for toddlers and television dramas.

'You can't blame her,' Tae-won said. He'd arrived seconds after the actress and had cast an approving eye over Rose. 'She doesn't look anything like the kid we met yesterday.'

'Kid?' Rose sputtered. 'Hey! I'm nineteen!'

'Sorry, sorry,' Tae-won laughed. 'I should have called you a child, then?'

'Tae-won, that's enough!' Si-woo admonished. 'Rose is doing us a favour. I won't let you scare off another model.'

'I don't want to scare her off,' Tae-won assured him. His crooked, roguish smile was full of mischief. 'Do I, Japan?'

'Because I'm interesting?' Rose asked bitterly.

'And getting more interesting every second,' the actor said. Tae-won walked past Si-woo, Eun-young, and Jin-hee to take Rose's hand. Under the romantic, soft lights and surrounded by fairytale props, Tae-won brought her fingers to his lips and brushed them with a tender kiss which sent jolts of electricity through her body. Smiling, and in a voice so gentle that only she could hear him, he said, 'I want to make you fall in love with me.'

Rose snatched her fingers from his grip. 'What?!'

'Just keep watching me, Japan.' Tae-won vowed. 'I swear, before you leave this country, you'll be in love with me.'