Work Text:
Chaewon wakes up early to her phone ringing. She pushes herself up and pats around her West Elm nightstand for her phone before answering it on speakerphone with muscle memory.
“Park Chaewon speaking.”
“Okay, professional,” Jungeun’s voice greets her, way too alert for before eight in the morning.
“I take it back. What do you want?” Chaewon flops back down in bed, picturing Jungeun drinking one of her disgusting green smoothies after one of her ungodly morning runs.
“I had a new client for you. I just got her a recurring role in a new miniseries, and she’s trying to stage a comeback. She already has a recognizable name, she just needs a little brand refresh.”
Oh. Well that has Chaewon’s attention. She sits up in bed and grabs her iPad from its place precariously close to the edge of her bed from her late-night tv-watching. “Who?”
“Welllll—” Jungeun teases, “I don’t know if I want to tell you anymore.” She pauses, not even for a second before it tumbles out, like she can’t help but say. “Okay, It’s Cho Haseul. I need you to take this one. I recommended you to her very highly.”
“Jo…Haseul…” Chaewon types the name into Google. “I feel like I know th—oh! The 80s swimsuit model?”
“That’s her. I know she’s not your usual, but given it’s a fresh start situation, I think you might be a really good match for her.”
Chaewon clicks on a picture of her. Yeah, she can work with this.
“Is this stupid?” Haseul asks, looking pleadingly at Vivi, who takes a long sip of her wine. “Getting back into acting like this?”
“It’s your life.” Vivi responds unhelpfully. She smiles at her wife as Handong waves amiably from where she’s tending to her raised garden bed.
“Vivi, please.”
Vivi looks over at her, studying her more seriously. Haseul is taken back to the 80s, when she was in her prime and Vivi was her staunchest ally. “I’m retired, Haseul. I can’t tell you what to do anymore.” She pauses, frowning. “But it’s clearly been on your mind.”
Haseul sighs. “I’m just restless, I think.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Heejin’s father passed. It’s putting things into perspective for me.”
“I heard. Did you attend the service?”
Haseul shakes her head. “He wouldn’t have wanted me there. Heejin said it was nice, and the food was terrible.”
“Figures. You were the foodie in that relationship.” After a moment, Vivi continues. “You already said you got yourself a role. Isn’t your mind already made up?” She rests her chin on her hand. “Listen. You know how bad it gets. You’ll need to think about getting security again if you’re seriously considering this, especially after, you know, Heejin’s father.” Haseul’s thankful about the way Vivi knows to avoid his name. “The media is going to be hungry.”
Haseul weighs her words. “I can’t believe I need to get a new manager. You know no one is going to be as good as you.”
Chaewon reviews her notes on her way to her meeting with Haseul.
She’s a 68 year old ex-bond girl and has been out of acting for a few decades. She’s best known for her role as Charity Nutt in the worst James Bond movie, according to Ranker, 1978’s Generosity Kills. She’d gone on to do a couple of bit parts and had a recurring role on the soap opera Blossom Tree for a couple seasons, but in the following years, she’d mostly done swimsuit photoshoots for magazines.
She’s definitely not Chaewon’s usual client, but she’s interesting. Chaewon liked a challenge, and maybe Haseul would prove more interesting to work with than her typical ex-Disney teenage idol with rich parents.
“Fancy houses, huh?” The Uber driver nods at a gaudy McMansion with no fewer than three different rooflines all mashed into one. “How much do you think it costs?”
“Thirty million? I don’t know.” Chaewon flips through a few more news articles about Haseul. None are more recent than 2008, when she was finalizing her divorce from her third husband. All of the newer articles that mention her are about her daughter, Jeon Heejin, the TikTok dancer. She hadn’t even realized they were related.
“It has to be at least 60 million to be here, right?” He turns into a cul de sac and slows down to a stop in front of one of the houses, all equally huge, and all just as garish as the first one the driver has pointed out. “Have a good day.”
She nods, returning the sentiment as she steps out and double checks her address.
Jeon Heejin answers the door in a velour workout ensemble. Sooyoung had told Chaewon she’d get used to it at some point, the dazzling aura of Hollywood people. Of course, Sooyoung had gone to Julliard and knew how to blend in with them. Chaewon just tries her best to not be too stunned at how flawless Heejin looks in what’s essentially just fancy sweatpants. She’s holding a bright blue smoothie and looks Chaewon up and down before going, “Oh! You’re here for my mom!”
Chaewon nods. “Park Chaewon, nice to meet you.”
Heejin starts down the hallway and Chaewon scrambles to follow, toeing off her shoes and closing the door behind her. “Yeah, Jungeun mentioned you to me this morning when we got smoothies.” She raises her smoothie, and Chaewon’s eyes catch on the “Erewhon” label on the side.
Chaewon suppresses her surprise. She didn’t know Jungeun was friends with Heejin. But more importantly, what the fuck was Jungeun doing buying $20 smoothies? To be polite, she asks, “What flavor?”
Heejin shrugs. “Blue.” Then louder, “Mom, that new manager is here for you!”
An older woman pops her head in from a sunroom in the back of the house before stepping out and crossing the large living room to greet her. She’s wearing a short silk robe and flowy pants. Between her and Heejin, Chaewon is starting to feel uptight and out of place in her cardigan and slacks. So East Coast, Olivia would say. But Olivia wore ratty t-shirts to business meetings, so Chaewon didn’t listen to her fashion advice.
“I’m Haseul. You must be Chaewon. You came highly recommended.” She reaches out a hand for Chaewon to shake.
And oh no. Haseul is really hot. To be fair, Chaewon knew that already. Obviously, she’d seen pictures of her during her research, but her eyes are way more striking like this, and her presence has more gravity than Chaewon had been expecting. The type of presence that only comes with fame, and especially decades of handing the worst kind of media. Chaewon had waded through hundreds of insulting headlines relating to Haseul’s divorces in her research.
Chaewon finds herself stealing glances at Haseul like she does with pretty girls and almost slaps herself to keep herself from going there because Jesus Christ. She needs to be in client mode, and she needs to be able to look at clients. “Chaewon. I’m Park Chaewon.” She shakes Haseul’s hand. “I’m really excited to show you the plan I have so far and get your feedback and contributions.” She thinks that probably sounds normal enough, and Haseul leads her back to the sunroom so Chaewon follows, dutifully keeping herself from checking out her potential client like a horny idiot. Heejin has disappeared to…somewhere. One of the eighty rooms in the house, probably.
“Do you need anything? My chef just dropped off some excellent sangria.” She glances at the wall, and Chaewon follows her gaze to an oversize clock, which reads 9:35 am. “Or coffee?”
Chaewon declines. “No thank you. I finished my morning coffee on the way over.”
Haseul settles back against the plush cushions of her Cloud Sofa and gestures for Chaewon to join her. Chaewon does, and the cushions sink so that she ends up right next to Haseul, their thighs brushing.
Haseul doesn’t seem to notice at all. “So, Jungeun told me you could position me for better roles.”
Chaewon nods, tongue tied, trying hard not to lean back. Haseul is really close like this, and she’s even prettier up close. This was a terrible start. The smile lines at the corners of Haseul’s eyes give her an air of sophistication, and the fine lines around her mouth give her face an element of definition that kinda…mesmerizes Chaewon.
Haseul raises her eyebrows at Chaewon’s silence.
“Right, uh,” Chaewon pulls her iPad out of her bag and opens it, only for it to unlock to a picture of Haseul in her 20s, sunbathing topless on a beach in the early 80s. In Chaewon’s defense, it’s in an article summarizing Haseul’s career. Still, Chaewon feels like a teenage boy getting caught with a swimsuit magazine. Showing a prospective client their own boobs on the first meeting is about as bad as it gets. “Jesus. Sorry. It’s, um, that was a Rolling Stone article I was using to prep.”
Haseul laughs, but it sounds startled. “I love that picture. It was a fun summer.” Then, after a pause, a teasing, “So that’s not part of the plan?”
Chaewon thinks she stammers a “No,” but she’s so flustered she doesn’t even really hear it coming out of her mouth. This is not the first impression she was aiming for, and Haseul has a steady, teasing tone in her voice that feels like it must come with age, and it’s dizzying.
Haseul looks back down at the iPad, where the picture is still shining brightly on the screen. “I’d do it again. I don’t think it would cause such a big splash these days, but I’m not against losing my shirt.”
It takes a gargantuan amount of self-control to prevent herself from blushing at the mental image of this Haseul shirtless. And maybe Chaewon shouldn’t have turned Sooyoung down last week when she was invited to that nightclub opening. She feels like a teenager. When was the last time she got laid?
(The last time Chaewon got laid was precisely three months ago, when her relationship with a Soul Cycle instructor imploded spectacularly over a missed session and her admission that no, she didn’t actually like spinning. The breakup sex had been incredible, and she’d spent the next week physically restraining herself from calling Minnie back.)
So yeah, maybe going to a nightclub opening would have been a good idea. Instead, she’d spent the night watching researching leads for her clients. And now, here she was with a client trying not to fixate on the way their bodies were pressed together by the couch. You know, like a great manager.
“It was a disaster, Vivi.” Haseul kicks her feet up on the ottoman on her back patio, a glass of wine carefully balanced in her hand.
“Oh, she can’t have been that bad.” Vivi pours herself a glass and sits next to her, relaxing into the plush cushions. “You like your agent, and you said she recommended her.”
“Not her. Me.” Haseul says. “I offered to go topless during the first meeting.”
Vivi falters with her glass halfway to her lips. The wine sloshes close to the edge as her eyes snap to Haseul’s. “Oh?” Then, with her face settling into something akin to interest, “Is she cute?”
Haseul’s face flames. “Not like that, my god, Vivi.” She pauses just a moment too long and Vivi has always had a sixth sense for what Haseul doesn’t say. Haseul schools her face into her practiced blank look, but it’s too late.
“So she is.” A smile begins to creep onto Vivi’s face.
“I’m too old for her.” Haseul dismisses. “And beyond that, that would be so irresponsible. She’s in charge of my career.” She tries not to think about just how much she’d liked flustering her. And how easy it was to excuse to herself as a way of testing her new manager.
“And maybe you’re the motivation she needs to really put in the work,” Vivi says, voice teasing.
Haseul purses her lips. “So, I want to hear about yours and Handong’s trip to Florence.”
Vivi lets her change the topic. As if she’d ever give up a chance to talk about her adventures in retirement.
It’s a testament to Chaewon’s skill that she manages to salvage the situation. Haseul is thrilled with her plan. Park Chaewon, great manager 1, Park Chaewon, loser-disaster 0. The boost to her confidence keeps her afloat until the weekend, and Chaewon brags much more vaguely to Sooyoung, who half-pays attention as she glues on her falsies for their night out.
“I have a new client, and she’s kind of a known entity.” Chaewon says, smoothing her hand down her dress, tighter than she usually wore, but Sooyoung had cajoled her into it, and Sooyoung was even further out of her twenties than Chaewon was, so if she thought Chaewon could pull it off—
“Oh? Wait, let me guess. Is it a crisis management thing? Was it that actress who egged her director’s house? Or that guy who stole some boat out of a marina?”
“Oh my god, no. You’ll never catch me doing crisis management. I can’t handle that. It’s a, get this, a Bond girl. Do you remember Charity Nutt?”
Sooyoung snorts at the name. “Jesus, no. But I will now. That’s not her real name, right?”
Chaewon rolls her eyes. “Cho Haseul.”
“Not the bikini model!” Sooyoung swivels around in her chair. “You’re kidding. She’s, like, more than a known entity. I forgot she was in a bond movie.”
Chaewon nods. “Yeah. Well, that’s why she hired me. I’m trying to pivot her image back to actor.”
“Oh, that is new for you. Very nice.” Sooyoung unlocks her phone and does a quick search. “So, she’s kind of a milf, right?” She shows Chaewon a picture of Haseul from the nineties, windswept bob and a smile on her face as she pushes Heejin in a stroller.
“Don’t be weird,” Chaewon scolds, but it rings so, so hollow to her. Like, Jesus. “Plus she’s like twice our age.”
“Yours maybe. And I’m in my milf hunter era anyway.” Sooyoung waggles eyebrows at Chaewon through the mirror.
“Okay, anyway,” Chaewon scrambles for a diversion. “Where are we even going tonight?”
Sooyoung has a funny sense of a Casual night out. “You didn’t tell me we were going to Miyeon’s birthday party,” She hisses as she smiles and gives a polite nod to an actor she’d just seen announced in a new Marvel movie.
“You know Miyeon though,” Sooyoung says, giving another choreographer she knows a hug in greeting.
“Know of,” Chaewon mutters back, but Sooyoung has already been dragged away by another dancer, leaving Chaewon standing in the bustling foyer. Like, sure she sorta remembers Miyeon from when she and Sooyoung had shared a cramped one bedroom downtown and Miyeon, pre-TikTok virality, had been somewhere between a friend and a hookup of Sooyoung’s, but that was hardly knowing someone. And it was another thing entirely to be here in her mansion-mansion brushing shoulders with some of the most recognizable faces in Los Angeles.
Chaewon finds her way to the kitchen where there’s an actual bartender making drinks at the island. She greets Chaewon with a smile and flips the shaker cup as she’s mixing the drink.
Armed with a drink in her hand, she braves the crowded living room.
She recognizes virtually everyone at the party, whether from TV or TikTok. She gets pulled into a debate about whether light wash jeans are hot or not, and when she opens her mouth to voice an opinion, she recognizes Giselle and Karina from a new Hulu show she’d been meaning to watch. They’re more than amiable, and Chaewon sinks into the conversation, finishing her first drink and going back for another.
“I should get going,” Karina says, glancing at Giselle just a moment longer than means nothing, and Chaewon knows it’s time for her to bow out. She says goodbye to them both and slips out the back door for some air.
It’s much quieter out back, even if it smells like weed. She takes a long sip of her drink and winces. The bartender had a heavy hand; she barely tastes the club soda. Looking around the deck, her eyes slide over the huddle of people on the stairs, who are passing a blunt around and catch on an older woman leaning against the railing with a beer. She’s dressed more casually than anyone else at the party, in dark jeans and a comfortable-looking sweater, and she looks out of place, standing alone on the deck.
She must stare for longer than she means to, because the woman meets her eyes. “I know this doesn’t really seem like my scene,” The woman says, taking a swig of her beer.
“Oh, no.” Chaewon averts her gaze, then looks back when that makes her look guilty. “I wasn’t staring because of—” She wets her lips. She’d be the first to admit she’s a lightweight. She feels the buzz in the way her brain knows what to say, but her mouth is just a second slower. “This isn’t my scene either,” she offers. “My friend dragged me here as her plus one.”
“It’s okay, I know I’m not the demographic this party is for.” She laughs good-naturedly, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes crinkle charmingly. “I’m here for an article I’m working on.” She slips her sweater off and lays it over the railing. “I’m Eunbi.”
“Oh?” Chaewon responds, but with a few drinks in her system, she really can’t help the way her eyes keep drifting down to the woman’s chest. The sweater had obstructed it, but now in her v-neck tee, it was almost mesmerizing to Chaewon’s drunk brain. Chaewon works her eyes back up to the woman’s face, where the woman, Eunbi, is staring at her in amusement, waiting for Chaewon to introduce herself. “I’m Chaewon, sorry. I really like your,” Chaewon catches herself. “Your shirt?” she says helplessly.
“I’m in my fifties,” Eunbi says, like it’s a warning. Even so, she leans back against the railing, resting her arms against it and opening up her body to Chaewon. Even pressing her chest forward like an invitation.
“Okay,” Chaewon says, closing the distance.
Chaewon doesn’t have the kind of revolving door of hookups that Sooyoung seems to maintain, but it feels good to have someone in her bed again. She buries her hands in Eunbi’s hair as Eunbi pins her to her own mattress, and like a moth to flame, Chaewon’s eyes drift down to her cleavage, much more visible at this angle. She’s practically just looking down Eunbi’s shirt at this point.
“You can touch, you know. Since you like them so much.” Eunbi teases. She sounds so much like Haseul when she doe—Chaewon nips that thought in the bud. Instead, she slips her hands beneath Eunbi’s shirt and lets her mind go blank.
“You know we’re not done talking about your cute little manager, right?” Vivi gives her a look as they sit at the table on Vivi’s back deck.
“Vivi,” Haseul takes a long sip of her drink. “It’s really nothing.”
Vivi remains unconvinced, popping a grape in her mouth. “I can’t believe out of the two of us, you’re the cougar.”
“Please don’t call me that,” Haseul groans.
“Fine, fine.” Vivi waves her off. “Look, on a serious note, you need to get out there. I’m just excited you’re interested in anyone. You deserve better than what you got.” She leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. Haseul knows this look. “It’s not silly to want love. Especially at our age, you know.”
“Please, Vivi, drop it.”
But Vivi’s words echo long after she leaves.
It’s not even like she hasn’t tried. When marriage number three had imploded, she’d taken the hint. She should have listened to the tabloids earlier when they’d called her shrill and irrelevant. It would have saved her the heartbreak.
But then Heejin wouldn’t be here, and for all that Heejin’s father had put her through, and for all the tabloids had drawn it out, amplified it all, Heejin had been worth all of it. And he’d thought so too. It had been the only functional part of their relationship.
She was too old to be letting herself feel like this. Especially for someone half her age. Especially for someone Heejin’s age. And yet, when her phone pings with a text from Chaewon, one just reading, “still waitiiiiing for the response 🙄, sorry,” a totally innocuous, professional text, she finds herself smiling picturing Chaewon rolling her eyes with that impatient little huff she did when things were taking a little too long.
“What’s up?” Heejin glances at her from across the kitchen island from where she’s mixing some new-age type of salad. “You’re smiling at your phone.”
Haseul schools her face into something more passive and slips her phone into the pocket of her robe. “Just Chaewon updating me about something.”
Heejin studies her. “That’s how you react to Chaewon?”
Haseul feels herself bristling at Heejin’s tone. “No, I—”
Something settles in Heejin’s expression. “You can date, mom. I don’t care.” Heejin stabs a forkful of salad and crams it into her mouth. Haseul swears she’d taught her to eat better than that. Then, with her mouth half-full, “She clearly likes you.”
Chaewon is a good manager. A great manager even. It’s not an opinion she came to by herself either. It’s what Haseul tells her after she books her for a Parade feature. It had taken a week of crawling through the LinkedIns of reporters and guessing at emails, but she’d finally gotten someone to take her pitch seriously.
“I grew up on Parade!” Haseul sounds thrilled. “I used to pour over that magazine as a little girl.”
“Oh, really?” Honestly, Chaewon had kinda forgotten about the magazine until she had seen her connection there in her contacts while looking for Vanity Fair. “I used to read the front inside page. The Q&As, I think. But we got you the cover and the feature. It’s going to be great exposure since people will get it with their newspaper.”
“Incredible. Thank you so much, Chaewon.”
And Chaewon loves the way her name sounds when Haseul says it, even just through her airpods in line at the busiest Starbucks in her neighborhood.
Chaewon gets to Haseul’s house bright and early with two coffees in hand, and lets herself in through the side door. Haseul shuffles in with a tired nod, hair messy and glasses low on her nose.
“Not a morning person?” Chaewon asks, handing her the oat milk latte she’d asked for.
Haseul shakes her head before taking a long sip of the piping-hot drink. Chaewon watches the tension melt from her shoulders with that, and it feels so private that Chaewon almost looks away. “Not without my coffee.”
“We could have pushed the interview later. I’ll make a note of that for next time,” Chaewon says.
Haseul takes the lid off her coffee and breathes in the steam, letting it fog up her glasses. “It’s good for me to get up this early. My joints get stiff if I lay around in bed too much.” She looks up, giving Chaewon a wry smile. “You’ll understand when you get to my age.”
Chaewon takes a sip of her own coffee in lieu of responding, suddenly tongue tied. She swallows and smiles back. “Have you read over the list of questions she’s asking?”
Haseul settles against the counter, nodding. “I read your mock answers as well” She glances at the clock on the wall and frowns. “I better get ready. Would you let her in if I’m upstairs?”
“Of course,” Chaewon says.
After Haseul disappears, Chaewon takes the chance to look around Haseul’s kitchen. The grand expanse of white marble countertop is spotless, and the only things that look like they get any daily use at all are the SodaStream and the fancy-looking espresso machine.
Just as she’s about to give it a closer look, the doorbell chimes. Chaewon glances at the staircase, but Haseul had just gone up, so Chaewon crosses the main floor to let the interviewer in.
She opens the door, a polite greeting on the tip of her tongue before she sees who it is. Chaewon stares at the woman at the door, a sense of horror washing over her. “Oh god,” she murmurs. Because how could it really get worse than this? “Eunbi.”
She watches the realization hit Eunbi in real time. Eunbi’s lips part and she gives Chaewon a quick once-over just to make sure it’s really her, then she schools her face into a professional smile and extends her hand. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your name at the party.” Her expression is somewhere between amused and incredulous. “Park Chaewon, right?”
Chaewon nods, mind blank as she shakes Eunbi’s hand slowly. “Looking forward to this interview.”
Chaewon is actually looking forward to going home and burying herself under her covers and never emerging again. She steps aside to invite Eunbi in, and carefully compartmentalizes in the few seconds she has when Eunbi toes off her shoes.
As if to save her, Heejin rounds the corner with another neon-colored smoothie, nodding at Chaewon and crossing to greet Eunbi herself. “You must be Kwon Eunbi. I read your piece on 90s nostalgia.”
Eunbi grins at that, wide and engaged and Chaewon needs to get Heejin some kind of thank you gift for the way she so immediately steals her attention and takes her to the living room so Chaewon can refocus herself and get into manager mode before joining them.
Haseul joins them in the living room not long after, introducing herself to Eunbi before sitting down in the Barcelona chair. She’s wearing a soft-looking, satiny v-neck, and unbidden, Chaewon’s eyes dip, just for a second down to the collar. She doesn’t even mean it like that, but when she glances at Eunbi just a moment later, Eunbi is looking back at her like she’s got Chaewon all figured out.
Chaewon shakes her head subtly, trying to tell Eunbi that she's got the wrong idea. There’s a horrible image in her head of this whole interview being changed to revolve around some kind of illicit manager/actress fling. Eunbi’s lips quirk up, and she raises her eyebrows, then she shakes her head placatingly, and it’s enough that Chaewon’s able to sit down on the other chair, off to the side so she’s out of the conversation.
Afterwards, Eunbi turns to her on the front step as she’s ordering herself an Uber back. “Don’t worry. I don’t write articles like that. I like to keep my connections.”
Chaewon manages to get Haseul mentioned as an actress in celeb sightings on Page Six and get Charity Nutt a mention on WatchMojo’s Top Twenty Craziest Character Names, and even though it’s all small stuff, Haseul seems genuinely delighted each time. Even Heejin texts her a “you got my mom on watchmojo? LMAO.” And with Haseul starting her new show in the coming weeks, Chaewon has a handful of more exciting pitches lined up.
Her weekly meetings with Haseul get more fun as well. Haseul insists on taking her on the boat, out to a vineyard, and even on a hike up a mountain for one of their meetings.
“I hate being cooped up at home these days,” Haseul says, steadying herself with a hand on the trunk of a tree as she waits for Chaewon to catch up. “I feel old when I’m just sitting on the couch. I need to keep myself moving.”
“You don’t hike like you’re old,” Chaewon pants, wiping sweat from her face with the bandana she’d originally been using as a hairband.
Haseul looks her up and down and Chaewon flushes, knowing just how much of a mess she must look. There goes being the slick East-Coaster with a plan. “Do you need me to slow down?”
Chaewon shakes her head. “No, you’re good. I’m just gonna take a water break.”
Haseul points up ahead to where there’s a bench made from a split log. “Let’s rest up there.”
Chaewon slumps onto the bench, trying to ignore the uncomfortable way her shirt sticks to her back with sweat. Haseul leans against a tree, fiddling with her bag to get at her water bottle. Chaewon definitely does not take the opportunity to admire the way Haseul’s shirt fits on her, and she doesn’t let her eye travel up to her collarbones as Haseul takes a few large drinks of water.
Maybe, “So, remember when you offered to go topless for your career?” isn’t the most professional way to open a meeting with a client, but Haseul had been thrilled with her so far, and they were talking over two tall glasses of Haseul’s chef’s sangria.
Haseul knocks her hand into her glass, nearly spilling across the table. “Um—” She opens her mouth and closes it again and looks so startled that Chaewon’s mind totally blanks out for a second in favor of, oh, am I going to lose this job?
“No! Not like that?” Chaewon scrambles. “Or, well, Maxim is doing an issue on older women and I wanted to gauge your interest before I reached out.” Chaewon keeps her voice even, and it takes every ounce of professionalism she has to reign in her expressions like she’s not personally invested in her answer.
Haseul nods slowly, but she’s still meeting Chaewon’s eyes, and she hasn’t leaned back yet, which lets Chaewon know that she’s considering it. “Maxim is pretty risque, right?”
Chaewon nods, pulling up the Google search of their latest covers. All lined up like this, the covers look even racier than they do on newsstands. Her eyes catch on the May issue, where YooA stares back at her, hair wet from the pool she’s emerging from, droplets of water artistically leading her eyes down to—She snaps her eyes back up to Haseul, clearing her throat awkwardly and offering the iPad to her. Not the time to be ogling your worst dating decision of all time. “I know we’re trying to pivot you away from swimsuit modeling, but you haven’t done a shoot like this since the late eighties, and you’d get a short written profile we’d have tons of control over.”
Haseul takes the tablet from Chaewon, her fingers brushing over Chaewon’s. She leans in to look at them, tucking her hair behind her ear. She’s wearing perfume today, and Chaewon tries not to take too deep of a breath just in case Haseul thinks she’s doing something weird like smelling her. “They all look less than half my age. Why would they want me here?”
“Well, you’re still sexy.” Chaewon winces as soon as it’s out of her mouth. Like, on every level that did not sound how she wanted it to sound. “Wait—like, you have a very tasteful, uh, you were such an iconic Bond—not that you’re not still, not that older—”
Haseul just watches her as she struggles through it, a little dimple between her brows growing as she furrows her eyebrows. Chaewon wants the earth to open up below this very nice dining chair and just swallow her.
Finally she gets her footing and tries her best for a balanced, professional response. “I know their photographer, and I mentioned we might be interested.”
“Why not?” Haseul hands the iPad back. “I don’t have any kids to worry about seeing this. Heejin’s all grown up.” She smiles, and the crows feet at the corners of her eyes crinkle. “I think it could be fun.”
Chaewon opens her mouth and closes it, reality sinking in. She just booked a topless photoshoot for her milfiest client. All she can do is smile and nod, jotting down a reminder to reach out to Yerim.
Now that Heejin has said it, Haseul starts to notice the way Chaewon acts around her, eyes lingering just a little longer than necessary. Handing her things carefully like she doesn’t want their hands to touch. Averting her eyes when Haseul stares back, just to see what would happen. Haseul’s been in this industry long enough to know what it looks like when someone is attracted to her.
The thrill is new though. Haseul will admit that she chases the reactions, brushing her hand over Chaewon’s when passing her iPad back to her, leaning just a little closer as they read an article draft on the same screen, leaving the top button of her shirt undone for their weekly lunch meetings.
She likes Chaewon’s gaze on her. She likes seeing Chaewon fight her sense of professionalism as her eyes wander down to that undone button. She likes this attention more than any other she’s had in decades.
Idly, she wonders what exactly it would take for Chaewon to act on it. Less idly, she scoots a little closer to Chaewon, just enough so their thighs brush.
“So, how do you know the photographer?” Haseul asks as they ride up the elevator to the photo studio.
“Oh, I think a friend connected us years back when I was looking for people to live with in LA. We never lived together, but we connected.” Chaewon tries to be as vague as she believably can. What she doesn’t explain is how she had a years-long situationship with Yerim, and they only just started speaking again because Chaewon bit the bullet and dmed her about Haseul. It’s just not professionally relevant.
Yerim opens the door distractedly, shooting a text to someone on her phone. It gives Chaewon time to get a good look at her. She’d dyed her purple hair back to black and the clothes she wears are edgier, but it's still the same old Yerim when she says, “Park Chaewon! I was wondering when you’d get here!”
Chaewon tries to stick out her hand for a cordial handshake, but Yerim bulldozes through it and pulls her in for a tight hug. Sooyoung would call this psychological warfare, but the worst part was, this is just how Yerim is.
“God, do not ghost me again.” Yerim shoots her a withering look before turning to Haseul and shaking her hand. “I’m in the presence of a legend. I used to study your photoshoots.”
Haseul smiles. “Thanks for having me.” Haseul continues, without skipping a beat, “Chaewon’s told me such great things.”
Yerim raises her eyebrows, and Chaewon wishes she’d just waited in the Uber. “Um, yeah. One of the best photographers to work with these days.” She tries.
Yerim lets it go, thankfully, and leads the two of them over to a couch, where she has her trusty binder and computer to brief Haseul.
“The shoot is heavily based on some of your old work. Since you’re leaning into acting, I’m taking more inspiration from your roles, but the goal is to get people to have that split-second familiarity.” Yerim grins. “And, of course, to think you’re hot. We’re going to make sure you look great.”
Haseul leans over the scrapbooked page Yerim has put together, pushing her hair out of her face as she studies it. Chaewon looks between the younger Haseul on the page and the side profile of the real Haseul in front of her. She still had the same strong jawline and striking eyes, but age had defined her features and made her look more sure of herself. More dignified.
Studying Haseul’s side profile is also easier than looking at the topless pictures of Haseul from Generosity Kills, along with some references of other models from some of Yerim’s other shoots in varying states of undress. She’d been avoiding thinking about being at this photoshoot with Haseul. In fact, she’d planned to miss it, but her conscience had gotten in the way of her faking an illness at eight this morning.
“So, I wanted to go over the way I handle nudity in my studio.” Yerim hands Haseul a sheet and offers one to Chaewon as well. Chaewon accepts in just to have something to stare at instead of 22-year-old Haseul’s Playboy centerfold.
They’ve both read this. Yerim had sent it to Chaewon ahead of the shoot, so Chaewon lets herself zone out as Yerim goes through all of the bullets with Haseul.
She zones back in just in time to hear. “This is topless, but we won’t need to show your breasts. We have a couple of options for modesty, and you can have your pick. It’s just me in the studio today, so I can show you over here.
She leads Haseul over to the dressing area, and Chaewon tries to get comfortable on the couch. Her eyes keep drifting to the Haseul collage on the table, though, and there's really no escape from her when she hears, “Back in my day, we didn’t have any of this fancy foam stuff. Would you mind terribly if I just went topless?”
Chaewon’s head shoots up at that, only to hear Yerim reply with “Not at all. It’s your comfort. I’m the only one in the studio today, other than Chaewon.”
Chaewon opens her mouth and closes it. She gives the two of them a thumbs-up from the couch.
Haseul gives her a puzzled look and a thumbs-up back before Yerim gives her a robe and directs her to the curtained changing area. “There are some shorts in there for your comfort, but topless under the robe, okay?”
Yerim turns back to Chaewon as Haseul is changing. “So, telling Haseul about me, huh? Does she know you have my number because we used to sleep together?”
Chaewon looks past Yerim at the curtain Haseul’s changing behind, wondering how well sound travels in this place. “Um.”
Yerim laughs, poking Chaewon in the shoulder before sitting down on the couch next to her. “I’m kidding. I know she was being polite. I’m glad you reached out though. You know, I had such a crush on her growing up. We only got like three TV channels when I was little, and her role as that sexy teacher in Blossom Tree was, like, my gay awakening.”
“Oh?” Chaewon says helplessly. Her eyes drift down to the cut out photo of Haseul in a slinky satin dress and big 80s hair from the role.
“Yeah, I—” Yerim cuts herself off as Haseul emerges. “I’m just going to do a little bit of hair and makeup so my lights don’t wash you out.”
It gives Chaewon time to check her notifications. One of her other clients asked her to reschedule their bimonthly meeting, so she sends a new calendar invite and a follow up text before putting her phone in her bag.
“You look great. I think we’re ready to start.” Yerim directs Haseul over to her setup. “I can take your robe now. It’ll just be on this chair, so it’s within reach.”
Chaewon tries not to let herself stare. It’s not professional. She stares at Haseul’s chest helplessly. One of her exes had told her once that she was kind of a fuckboy for being such a princess. And she understands it now, as she pulls her gaze back to Haseul’s face, to see her looking back eyebrows slightly furrowed.
Chaewon feels her face go red, and she snaps her eyes down to her lap. She doesn’t let herself look up until she hears Yerim directing Haseul on posing, shutter sound echoing in the studio.
Yerim is an excellent photographer. She had explained to Chaewon once that the key to good portraits is the model’s comfort. For intimate shoots like these, and even for extreme shoots—Yerim had once done a circus-themed shoot for a magazine, complete with animals and stilts. But Chaewon sees what she means here. Haseul doesn’t startle as Yerim reaches out to reposition Haseul’s hand on her face. “Just like that.”
“This daybed is too comfortable. I’m going to fall asleep here,” Haseul jokes, readjusting the satin fabric in her lap.
“I’m ashamed to say that I’ve crashed there when I’m here late,” Yerim says, taking a few more photos. “Okay, I’m going to review these, so you can go ahead and relax.”
Yerim offers the robe to Haseul, who drapes it over her shoulders and leans back into the mass of pillows. “I was serious about this bed.”
“Go right ahead. I’m just going to be reviewing this set of photos before moving onto the next set.”
Chaewon wanders over to the monitor as Yerim is flipping through. “How are things looking?”
“Great. I mean, look at them.”
Haseul does look great. Her gaze is somehow confrontational and gentle. She'd never noticed the tiny trails of gray in Haseul’s hair, but it glows under Yerim’s careful lighting setup, making her look dignified and sensual at the same time. “She looks—they look great.” Chaewon says, clearing her throat when her words come out scratchy.
“Chaewon.” Yerim’s tone is knowing.
“Please don’t.”
Yerim snorts, but keeps the rest of her thoughts to herself. That’s how Chaewon knows this is as bad as she’d been worried it is.
Chaewon obviously can’t tell Jungeun, who’d never send her another client again at best, and would tell Haseul’s daughter at worst. But she can’t keep it in anymore, either. “I’m really into one of my clients,” she says quietly to Sooyoung, who looks up from the drinks menu. “She’s so hot, I think it’s affecting my sleep.”
Sooyoung’s eyebrows skyrocket. “Oh, wow. Finally something juicy from my boringest friend.” She leans in. “Can I guess who?”
Chaewon starts to say no, but Sooyoung is too fast. She’s started listing them already.
“The ex-Disney guy? Oh, or that musician girl? Or that guy who just does cowboy movies? Or,” her eyes light up. “It’s the milf, isn’t it?”
“Who’s the milf?” Olivia slides back into her chair, jostling the table and nearly spilling Chaewon’s mimosa.
“Cho Haseul. Chaewon’s new client.”
“She’s not a milf,” Chaewon protests weakly. “Don’t call her that.”
“Yeah, and don’t use full names,” Olivia adds. “It’s like you want Deux Mois to know everything about everyone.”
“Firstly, Chaewon, you’re only saying that because you wanna be the only one who wants to fuck her. Secondly, Olivia, you know about Deux Mois?”
“I don’t live under a rock. Literally grew up in the industry.” Olivia dunks a fry in her milkshake. “Anyway, it’s a terrible idea. There’s a reason I don’t date.”
“Asexuality?”
“There are two reasons I don’t date.” Olivia rolls her eyes, but she’s holding back a smile. “Famous people are crazy, but the media is crazier. Even if you find a normal famous person, I can guarantee the media will not be like that.” She leans back, tipping her chair onto two legs. “Shouldn’t you know this better than anyone else here? You’ve already dated that one client of yours.”
Sooyoung winces at the mention, and somehow that’s even worse than Olivia bringing up YooA to begin with.
“Okay, yeah, that was horrible, but that was for reasons unrelated to our professional relationship. And anyway, look. I’m fine. Professionally and emotionally.”
Olivia gives her a look. “You’re into a seventy-year-old.”
“She’s sixty-eight,” Chaewon says weakly. “And I’m regretting bringing it up at all.”
Sooyoung puts down the menu. “Well, I think you should bag your milf.” She takes a bite of her omelet. “Milfs are good for the soul.”
“Thank you again for coming to set with me. I appreciate it.” Haseul says as they get into an Uber after a long day of filming.
“Of course,” Chaewon says. “How was the first day back on camera?”
“Exhausting,” Haseul laughs. “But really nice.” She closes her eyes, sinking into the seat and taking a deep breath as the driver pulls out onto the road. She opens her eyes to Chaewon looking at her, so she raises her eyebrows before digging her compact out of her bag and checking to see if she has anything on her face. There’s nothing, so Haseul looks back at Chaewon.
She watches Chaewon fiddle anxiously with the Popsocket on the back of her phone case.
“Are you alright?” Haseul asks, poking Chaewon’s thigh.
“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Chaewon responds. Chaewon stares at her oddly, and Haseul almost starts to ask again, but then Chaewon’s gaze is dipping to her lips and she’s leaning in and oh.
Haseul presses into the kiss, cupping Chaewon’s jaw with her hand. Haseul had thought she was desperate, but Chaewon kisses so hungrily that it leaves Haseul’s head spinning. She hadn’t been kissed that hard in this millennium. That thought makes her all the more eager, so she shifts her hand from Chaewon’s jaw to the back of her neck, pressing her tongue to Chaewon’s lips. Chaewon gasps and Haseul takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, swallowing Chaewon’s quiet moan.
The phrase “it’s like riding a bike,” pops into Haseul’s head as she cards her hand into Chaewon’s hair, and she laughs into the kiss. Chaewon pulls back
“Let me take you out,” Chaewon says, breathless, lips kissed red and shining in the light coming through the car windows.
“Okay,” Haseul agrees, heart pounding and head spinning.
“O-okay. Okay.” Chaewon grins, and Haseul had never noticed the way one side of Chaewon’s mouth lifts higher than the other when she smiles. It makes her want to kiss her again.
But before she can, the Uber comes to a stop in front of Haseul’s house. Haseul makes brief eye contact with the driver, and it occurs to her suddenly what she just made out with someone in the back of an Uber. She blushes, muttering a quiet, “sorry,” to the driver as she slides out. The driver waves off her apology, and she makes a note to tip generously.
Chaewon is right behind her, following her up the steps to her house, a polite three feet away. It feels like an almost uncrossable distance now that they were out of the car, and Haseul wants to cross it, kiss Chaewon here on her doorstep, too. Instead, she nods at the door. “Just stay here tonight.”
“Like..?” Chaewon trails off, and Haseul catches her drift.
“Oh, no. Like, in the guest room. You need to take me out first, right?”
Haseul watches Chaewon’s face go red, even in the dim light of Haseul’s front porch. “Yeah.”
True to her word, Chaewon texts Haseul the next morning with reservations for a dinner at a place she’d picked for their discretion. Back when she’d been an established actor’s personal assistant, she’d had to make reservations there weekly for him and his wife, but she’d never been herself. Her nerves buzz under her skin as Haseul sends back a “Yes,” and a smiley face.
Chaewon can’t help but kiss Haseul in the dark gap between buildings they dip into as they wait for their Uber. Haseul kisses back eagerly, hand weaving its way into Chaewon’s hair pulling her closer. Chaewon stumbles forward a little and steadies herself with a hand on Haseul’s hip, which she can’t help but slide up, especially when Haseul guides it up over her dress, laughing into the kiss as she does.
Chaewon pulls back, face flushed and breathing hard when she feels her phone vibrate with their ride update. “We should—” She gestures out to the street.
Haseul nods, a flustered smile still on her face. She’s so pretty that Chaewon steals one more kiss before stepping back out onto the sidewalk to find their ride.
Haseul is dignified in her pretty designer dress and the gray at her temples that she’s growing out. Her eyes sparkle in the passing streetlights. And yet, her hand sneaks up Chaewon’s thigh, teasing at the hem of her skirt, even as she pretends to be paying attention to the city outside.
Then Haseul leans in to whisper to her, “So, you took me out, huh?”
Chaewon doesn’t quite know what Haseul is getting at until raises her eyebrows. “Oh, oh.” Chaewon nods, trying her best not to look too eager. As if Haseul’s hand isn’t playing with the hem of her skirt, ticking the inside of her thigh.
Chaewon slips out of Haseul’s room for a glass of water in the early morning. She’s adjusting the robe she’s thrown on when a thunk that isn’t her startles her. A moment later, the hall light comes on to show an equally startled Heejin at the end of the hall, hand on the lightswitch.
Chaewon opens her mouth and closes it. She looks down at the robe she’s wearing. It’s the same one Haseul had been wearing at their first meeting. It’s pretty obvious why she's here, especially with Haseul’s door ajar. “Hey,” she whispers.
Heejin stares at her, searching for something. It’s not like Chaewon has anything to hide, though, so she stands there in the tense silence as Heejin approaches her. “Look,” she starts. “This isn’t just for fun, is it? My mom’s been through enough. You might know all of it, but you didn’t live it with her like I did.”
“This is real,” Chaewon replies. Then she pauses, wetting her lips. “You’re okay with this?”
Heejin shrugs. “My mom is her own person. We’re all adults here, right?”
Chaewon nods, and Heejin brushes past her to slip into what must be her own room down the hall.
Chaewon cracks her eyes open groggily and reaches for her phone which is ringing incessantly. She unlocks it and frowns at the wall of texts from Jungeun. She snorts. She’s not reading all of that.
Instead, she hits the call button. “You texted,” she tells Jungeun. Probably unhelpfully, but it’s too early to play at professionalism.
“What the fuck, Chaewon!?” Jungeun’s voice is tight and anxious and that has Chaewon sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Did you even look at the texts I sent? Are you fucking Haseul or something?”
“What?” Chaewon asks, voice cracking as she starts backreading. “Oh, fuck.” She sees the preview of the TMZ link that Jungeun sent at 5:03am.
“Yeah.” Jungeun lets the call lapse into silence as Chaewon scrolls through the article. Aging Bond Girl Cho Haseul Get Handsy With Younger Woman. There, on her phone screen, brightness too high for so early, is a picture of her, lips pressed to Haseul’s neck and hand on her breast. Haseul is mid-laugh, hand on Chaewon’s elbow, encouraging her.
Chaewon’s heart pounds. She feels nauseous. Is her dad going to see this when he wakes up? Is her grandmother? She’d handled worse than this for clients. She didn’t expect it to feel so violating. She stares at the picture until it's burned into her retinas. It’s a happy photo. She reads the caption. Oops! Looks like we caught a cougar on the wildlife camera!
There’s no mention of her name anywhere in the article, but it’s only a matter of time. Someone she went to college with or something is going to see it and post about it and then she’ll have to private her social media. And that’s to say nothing of the potential career impact.
She’ll need to draft up a plan to handle this. It’s not career-ending, but it's embarrassing for them both. She feels the beginning of a stress headache as she pulls herself out of bed and trudges to her kitchen table where her laptop is charging. It’s only six am, and nine on the east coast. They have time to figure this out before people really start picking it up.
First, she shoots off a text to Haseul. Quick and to the point. “Hey, call me asap.”
Then she starts collecting the names of the publications that have already posted the pictures. If she works fast, she can get them taken down before anyone puts them on Twitter.
She’s well on her way to drafting a takedown request email when her phone rings.
“Park Chaewon speaking.”
“Hi, it’s me?” Haseul can’t help the way she sounds puzzled. The text didn’t really sound like Chaewon, and she’d wondered if someone had spoofed her number or something. “Did you text?”
She hears Chaewon sigh deeply. “Someone got a picture of us. I’m handling the images themselves, but there’s the matter of you preparing a statement to deny it’s you, And then there’s the matter of directing the media. We’ll need to find something to distract them with for a few days—”
“Got a picture of us?” Haseul processed Chaewon’s words slowly. She searches it up on her own phone. They look happy. Haseul zooms in on her own face. She looks happier than she’s seen herself in years. She stares at the picture as Chaewon’s voice continues over speakerphone.
“And then we’ll have to cool it on going out in public together. Even brunches might—”
And the. She finally realizes what’s going on. She hears it in Chaewon’s voice. All professional and no intimacy. She recognizes cold feet well. She’d heard it in her first husband’s voice. Heejin’s father’s voice too, when he’d found out she was pregnant. She hadn’t even known Chaewon that long. She hadn't expected the other shoe to drop so hard. She steels herself and gives Chaewon an out. “We can end this if you want.”
Chaewon continues on without faltering. “I don’t want that. I want you.”
Haseul adds, “Look, I get it. I’m not an easy person to—oh.” She stops. “You still want to be with me.” Chaewon hadn’t even hesitated.
“But we need to figure out how we’re—wait. Haseul,” Chaewon pauses, and Haseul can hear her breathing on the other line. “I really like you. I’m not just going to dump you over some stupid paparazzi photo. This isn’t even bad by my metrics, but even if it was, I can handle it.” Haseul hears her take a sip of her morning coffee, then another, like she’s trying to avoid talking.
“Chaewon?”
“Yeah, uh, do you—” Haseul can hear Chaewon’s awkward grimace over the phone. “I want to be out of the spotlight, but I want to pursue this relationship. Are you okay with that?”
“Of course,” Haseul agrees. “It honestly sounds calmer than the relationships I’ve been in before. A nice change of pace.”
“Okay,” Haseul can hear her typing something. “Okay. What if we acknowledge you’re dating a non-celebrity?”
“Is that—what does that do to you?” Haseul asks, thinking about the frantic way Chaewon had answered the phone. “You don’t want to be seen.”
“I want control over the story. For you and me.” Chaewon laughs. “I really hate this crisis control stuff. Especially when it’s not even a crisis.” She pauses. “I like you a lot. Maybe we just make it that simple? I can send out the emails, and we can prepare answers to interview questions about our relationship later. Okay?”
Haseul nods, smiling, even though she knows Chaewon can’t see her. “Sounds good.”