Hyun paused, his lips parting as if to protest, but then he gave a small nod. "Thanks . . . really. I owe you one."
Good. First Impression success!
I smiled, slipping my phone back into my pocket. "No worries. Maybe one day, you can return the favor."
Who didn't love fashion? It was every woman's secret obsession, an endless pursuit of beauty and identity.
And while this guy might've been dressed in shabby clothes, his mind was a treasure trove of fashion brilliance.
His rise to fa had been quick—just a few well-tid posts of his designs on social dia had ignited a wildfire of attention.
It wasn't hard to see where this was going. If he was destined for greatness, establishing a connection with him right now would be a stroke of genius.
When the ti ca and he was swimming in fa, I'd have soone to lean on—a personal fashion designer, tailored exclusively for .
But that wasn't even the best part. The real prize would co when Hyun inevitably wanted to start his own studio.
I could already picture it—the bustling creativity, the models, the high-profile clients. I could invest in him
right
now
, while he was still on the cusp of stardom, securing my place in the fashion world before anyone else even knew his na.
It wasn't just about helping him. It was about making sure that when he rose, I rose too. And nothing—not the clothes, not the fa, not the luxury—was going to stop from grabbing hold of that opportunity.
He would be my little investnt to help secure my future further.
The waitress, now satisfied, left us alone, and I turned my attention fully to Hyun. "So, lost your wallet, huh?"
He chuckled, though there was a faint hint of embarrassnt. "Yeah . . . just my luck. I've been running around all day, and then this happens."
I leaned forward slightly, curiosity piqued. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. My na is Eve."
"Hyun."
"And what brings you to New York, Hyun? You don't exactly look like a student."
Hyun chuckled softly, his lips curving into a small smile. "Actually, I'm applying for a job."
"A job?" I raised a brow, scanning his clothes. They were far from what you'd expect for soone on a job hunt.
Reading my expression, Hyun laughed again. "I know what you're thinking—these clothes don't exactly scream 'hire .' But in my defense, I'm not applying for a corporate job."
"Oh?" I sipped my tea, feigning mild surprise. "So what kind of job are you applying for?"
"A fashion designer apprentice," he answered, eyes lighting up with passion. "I've always wanted to be a fashion designer, but . . ." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Without a diploma or formal training, I can't even get an apprenticeship. Most of the studios won't even let through the door when they saw ."
I leaned back in my chair and gave him a sympathetic smile. "Welco to New York."
Hyun sighed heavily. "The truth is, my family isn't well-off. I can't afford college right now, so I'm hoping to land a job with just my portfolio," he said, patting the ssenger bag at his side.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of pity. Did he co from so tiny village, unaware of how things worked in the real world? It's always been the sa—without backing or a degree, you couldn't even dream of getting an apprenticeship here.
"You must be a student, right?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm studying business."
"I see . . ."
"Mind if I take a look at your portfolio?"
Hyun's face brightened, and he handed the files like an eager puppy. He didn't even have a tablet—just paper sketches.
Poor guy.
No wonder those big-na fashion studios wouldn't give him a chance. Who still used paper for portfolios in this digital age? It also save the use of papers and helping the environnt.
As I flipped through the hand-drawn designs, I was impressed. He could draw, and his designs were shockingly good—better, even, than so of the famous designers I'd seen.
Was that the problem? Had the studios seen his work and gotten scared of the competition, crushing his dreams before they even had the chance to bloom? Maybe they didn't want to take the risk of nurturing soone who might one day surpass them.
Whatever the reason, they had all overlooked sothing spectacular. Hyun was going to take his designs online, publishing them in hopes soone would recognize his talent. And he would rise to fa soon enough. No doubt about it.
"I don't see anything wrong here," I said, suppressing the grin threatening to spread across my face. "In fact, you're quite good."
His eyes widened with surprise, a hopeful glint shining through. "You think so? My family back ho thinks so too."
I glanced up from the sketches, unable to stop myself from thinking how he looked so much like an adorable, hopeful puppy at that mont.
"Tell you what," I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "How about we make our own studio? Fifty-fifty. I'll handle the business side—rent a space, hire staff, and get the materials—while you focus on designing. How does that sound?"
Hyun blinked at , processing the offer. "But . . . aren't you a student?"
I grinned slyly. "A student with millions to spare. So, what do you say?"
At the ntion of money, his eyes sparkled with excitent. "Wait—are you like so super-rich, spoiled young lady? Like in those dramas?"
I waved off the "spoiled" part with a smirk. "Let's skip the 'spoiled' bit, but yeah, I guess you could say I'm that kind of lady. So . . . are you in?"
Hyun nodded eagerly, his head bobbing like a chicken pecking at grains. "If I can have my own studio and create clothes while supporting my family—then yeah, I'm all in!"
"Good." I leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across my lips.
Today was turning out to be a very lucky day . . . minus my eting with Cole.
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