kaisoo model + agent! au
by: clouddreaming and luhands
Title: (if you don't have a title that's okay! you can put untitled here!)
Pairing:
Rating: (YOU CANNOT LEAVE THIS FIELD BLANK)
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Summary/Warnings: (this field can also be left blank if you want, but any warnings MUST BE INCLUDED)
Jongin has never felt more uncomfortable than this moment as everyone’s attention shifted expectantly towards him, rows upon rows of unfamiliar yet stunning faces donned of immaculate makeup, and expressions arranged into their perfected smiles for the media. Hair styled so that not a single strand remained stray and dressed in clothes of nothing but the utmost current trends, any celebrity that had a name in their awfully media centered world was here.
He should be ecstatic. He should be elated, grin split so wide it hurt, because anyone else would have died to be nominated and ultimately winning this year's rookie model award, but the only thing that was throbbing was his head from the announcer’s excessively cheerful voice and his eyes from the incessant flashing of lights everytime he blinked. When he had accepted the mission, this really wasn’t he expected. He had expected for some hardcore, agent secrecy kick butt action, not going undercover as some pretty boy with more gel in his hair than a egomania, hipster college student would ever use in a year.
He was snapped out of his inner turmoil by the eruption of applauses as the previous beams of spotlight circling around the center stage shone down at him from where he was seated with his fellow model colleagues. Polite and courteous claps arose from the senior attending artists seated in the front rows of the audience, growing in volume as the younger generations of celebrities whistled and cheered boisterously. His genuine condolences go out to Tao in the row behind him, for having to deal with a deeply sulky Baekhyun as Baekhyun rattled of his one hundred and one reasons why he should’ve been the one to receive the rookie award instead of Jongin. On his right, Sehun gave him a hearty slap on the back, and Jongin knew there was no turning back now. Jongin mentally steeled himself, rubbing his embarrassingly damp palms against the itchy fabric of his five hundred dollars dress pants (thank god his company paid for them and not him), and stood up.
Jongin made his way onto the brightly lit stage, avoiding the venomous gazes of the other nominees as he went to accept the award. He gingerly took the small golden figurine from the presenter with a small smile and turned to address the audience. He was struck with how vast and extensive the sea of audiences and it was all very disheartening when he knew that this was the crowd his target in, in the midst of this crowd full of only the finest models, renowned actresses and actors, and talented artists was a treacherous person capable of committing more crimes if Jongin didn’t stop him. Looking down from his stand on the stage, he wondered how he was going to find this person and remembered the night before he left for the mission.
Suho had sat down and passed Jongin a mug of hot chocolate as he prepared to speak. He coughed slightly before beginning, “Jongin, I know this is your first mission and you may be feeling nervous, but you’ll do fine,”
Mentally, Jongin was barely present for the duration of the conversation, trying to calm his nerves about the upcoming mission; his flight left tomorrow.
“The agency wants to see how you’ll work under pressure. You won’t have much time to complete your mission, so focus. Have fun in New York, but always keep an eye out for the sake of the mission,”
Jongin cleared his throat as the audience quickly became restless over his momentary silence and smiled nervously.
“I’d like to thank my manager and all of you who voted for me. This wouldn’t be possible without you.”
He flashed one of his charming smiles to the audience and laughed upon hearing some cheering and excited squealing from the audience. He was just about to make his way down the stairs to exit the stage when a glint of brightness different that the lighting of cameras caught his attention, flickering teasingly, taunting at the edge of his vision. Pausing in his step, Jongin peered searchingly back into the sea of audience eyes, an unnerving feeling settling puzzlingly in the pit of his stomach.
And then he found it- found him. That glint of light led him a pair of endearing heart-shaped lips and strikingly, dark eyes. He was snapped out of his musing when he felt the hand of the announcer on his shoulder, his questioning gaze, and the growing whispers in the audience as they noticed he was still lingering around stage. With a discreet cough of embarrassment that the watching audience couldn’t catch, Jongin swiftly rearranged his facial expression and decided on a quick but effective salute to the audience before making his exit off stage. He made his way back to his seat, hoping no one thought too oddly of his little moment on stage.
The rest of the award ceremony continued on without any mishaps, but Jongin was disconcerted with the way his thoughts kept straying back to the man with the heart-shaped lips. He was bewildered to find that for the first time ever he felt intrigued by this man, and with that thought, a feeling of unease ran up his spine.
Eventually, the award ceremony wrapped up, and the auditorium room began to empty out as everyone began to leave, eager to leave from having to endure the hours of the show.
Jongin also began to make his way out when he felt a hand clasp his shoulder Jongin looked behind him and saw the source of the voice. It was Zitao, striding towards him in all his tall, dark alluring glory. “We’re going out for drinks tonight in celebration for your win. Be ready at 10.”
Jongin grimaced, trying to casually edge himself out of the situation. Parties and drinking really weren’t his thing. For one, he had never even drank before so he doubt his alcohol tolerance was any good, and second, there was nothing more uncomfortable than having people whom he didn’t know talking to him and pretending they knew him.
“I can’t,” he started, “See, I have these sweet puppies who are waiting for me at home right and I just know they will be so devastated if I don’t come home in time to feed them, ” Jongin mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done. There, that should be a good enou-
“You’re excuse is absolute shit,” Zitao deadpanned, mercilessly pinning Jongin down with a go or die look. Jongin thought of overly enthusiastic and drunk girls cladded in their tightest booty shorts trying to shimmy onto his lap, and he found himself scrambling desperately to search for another excuse. Before he could say anything more, he spotted Jongdae and Baekhyun rounding around the corner and he could literally see the last of any hope he had of escaping the party disappear right in front of his eyes.
“Yo, Jongin, my man,” Jongdae, another of Jongin’s fellow model colleagues, legendary for his to die for cheekbones, grinned and raised his fist up to give him a fistbump only to receive a blank look in return from Jongin. Jongdae merely laughed, throwing his head back and shoulders shaking merrily as if nothing had happened, and gave Jongin a clap on the back instead.
“Please don’t ‘yo’ me. That would imply that we are platonic friends which is untrue because I just found out about your existence yesterday,” Jongin frowned, a disgruntled look upon his face. His words went by unheard as Jongdae burst out into another churtle of laughter as he pointed at a shameless Baekhyun making puke worthy kissy faces as he tried to drape himself over Zitao. Zitao half-heartedly fended off the petite, jet haired model, using one hand to smush and shove the wiggling Baekhyun’s face away while he directed his dark stare at Jongin.
“Kim Jongin, I better see your ass at the party or there will be no owner for your puppies to greet, ever, “ Jongin sighed. So much for a peaceful rest of the evening to catch a few extra winks and to watch the reruns of Doctor Who. He really should have known better than try to turn down one of Zitao’s invitations.
Jongin wills himself not to down another beer in an attempt to drown out Zitao’s incessant chattering. Suddenly, a tall blond man walked up to where they were sitting and asked Zitao to dance. Upon seeing his face, Zitao flashed one of his sorry but not sorry smiles before grabbing the man’s hand and practically running to the dance floor.