#shamelessly reposting from my twitter once again

[jamesfistjames]

this show has too many characters

[godbirdart]

first off, i just want to say that i love your art, you are a huge inspiration to me and i love how expressive your characters are! would you have any tips for someone trying to grow a following from their art? specifically within the furry community ideally. im just not sure where to start

i hope youre having a great day!

thank you so much!!

okay i gotta preface this with: i have been doing commissions for over a decade. everything i say here i've been doing since roughly 2014, but my career as an artist didn't really Take Off and become reliable until 2019. success isn't immediate. some artists will grow faster or slower than others, not every tactic is going to apply / work for every artist; and that's okay. just keep pushing yourself and adapting and figuring out what works for You!

i’m putting this under a readmore as it got a bit long. every time someone asks me for advice on professional Anything i always write up a five page essay despite trying to bulletpoint it oof

post on multiple platforms and keep them all updated. i’m putting this one in bold because it is possibly the Most Important thing. we’re all watching twitter sinking over there, and many of my mutuals there were floundering because they hadn’t established themselves on any other social media site. i strongly recommend three or four socials minimum. my main four sites are tumblr, deviantart, twitter and toyhouse. furaffinity is also good. inkblot and artfol are new and i use them frequently as well. if you don’t like posting manually to every site each and every time you post art, Postybirb exists and is what i use to crosspost all my art to most of my socials at once.

avoid venting a lot on main. we all have frustrating days where our art isn’t getting the recognition we hoped, or we’re feeling petty about a controversial topic or the latest drama. it happens! it’s okay! however, many people just don’t like seeing dozens of negative posts on their feed. most people will sympathize, but if your negative vents are constantly clogging their dashboard they’re not gonna stick around.

shamelessly self promote yourself. reblog your own art. retweet it again. repost it. mention your other socials. we live in a world of timezones! when you post art, only a fraction of your audience is going to see it. i recommend reblogging / retweeting one to four individual pieces periodically over the course of a day and change it up each day. you can also repost your own work into photosets and title it “recent commissions” or the something like that.

don’t hide your linktrees and carrds. seriously! the amount of times on twitter i went to try and follow someone on another platform only to find they had no carrd or linktree link,, it is infuriating. put your socials link in your bio or pinned or SOMEWHERE readily at the top of your profile that’s easy to spot.

if you’re offering commissions, make a telegram channel or discord server for your announcements / openings.

post regularly. this one is a lot harder for artists that don’t make a lot of content, but posting even a status update once or twice a day can go a long way - especially if you’re on twitter with that platform’s hideous algorithm. alternatively as i said earlier, just retweet/reblog your work a few times a day and you should be good.

art trends are cool and fun and an easy way to get your work seen by others. see a “draw your sona in this outfit” meme? go, have fun with it. this one’s a bit tricky as timing is everything when it comes to ~trending~ content, so try and draw quick. that said, it’s never outdated to drawover reaction memes with your fursona.

try not to clog your socials with memes and shitposty images. this one is directed at twitter specifically. with twitter moments now gone, your media tab is the last way for people to hope to find your work organically on your profile without having to use the twitter search. they can’t get invested in your work if they can’t find it!

it’s okay to change course if you’re not vibing with where you’re headed. if you want to move onto a new aesthetic - that’s fine! you may lose some followers if they don’t click with your new vibe, but you’ll inevitably gain some new ones.

avoid frequent name changes. so many of the artists i follow have changed their brands / urls over the years that i don’t recognize them anymore.

tag your work properly. on tumblr, the first five tags on the original post are the tags your work will pop up in in the search feature. make those first five tags the Most important ones; example: #furry, #anthro, #art #fursona etc. twitter’s algo seems flip-flop if it likes tags or hates them. if you see a tag trending, repost your art in a photoset with the hashtag in the post [example: if #pokemon is trending, repost some of your pokemon fanart with the hashtag in the post body]. if the tag isn’t trending,,, i’ll be honest it’s a gamble if twitter likes your post or not at that point. i have no advice for that hell algorithm.

hosting raffles or doing a mini art request event [example: “leave a ref and i might draw your oc”] is good for traction while simultaneously giving back to the community + your audience a little!

try and reply to / like comments on your work. it’s not required per se, but it’s good to express gratitude.

engage with other members of the community. comment on other peoples work. like it. retweet it. follow other people. obviously don’t be disingenuous about it, but this is what the professionals call ~networking~

don’t compare yourself to others. this one is one you have got to keep in mind constantly. you’re going to find 17 year olds with huge followings and 30 year olds that are doing professional industry work whose level feels alien and almost out of reach. if you’re not doing as well, don’t let yourself get discouraged. we all gotta start somewhere!

related to the above point: be nice to your followers. venting on main about not having the same audience volume as others can come off as a huge middle finger to the audience you already have.

gaining a following takes time. unless you get a really lucky break, it’s going to take a lot of work and self promotion to build up your brand.

slap your name on everything. i mean it. any art you do - sign it. watermark it. people can and will share art in telegram channels and discord servers, and if the art interests someone they can easily source it back to you if your name is on it.

you can buy adspace. if you’re catering to a furry audience specifically, you can buy adspace on furaffinity pretty easily. inkblot i believe also offers adspace for artists though i haven’t looked too deep into it. this is really a “if you’re okay burning money” situation, as the huge chunkk of internet users have adblockers now and it’s a gamble if people will see or even click on your ad.

just have fun and do your own thing. you can hop on trends and draw art that caters to your audience’s tastes, but don’t forget to draw what YOU want and what YOU’RE about. Draw what makes YOU happy.

hope these help!! ;w;

[astranva]

Falling Duet

Word Count: 2.4k

Category: Fluff but it’s so 🥺

Warning: Nothing

Request: harry dating singer!reader: he has to perform at some awards and he invites her to sing with him but no one else knows? love your writing🤧❤

Summary: You and Harry sing an unreleased version of Falling at an award show.

The lyrics used are of “Falling (other POV)” by THE cutie, Ally Naso 🤍

// masterlist //

**reposted bc tumblr is messing up the tags & nobody can view it. sigh.

..

It all started when a friend of yours had recorded you singing in your school’s bathroom during senior year.

7 years ago, you wouldn’t have believed it if somebody told you that you would be a 13-time Grammy nominated artist, as well as having 6 of that very award sitting on your shelf at your childhood home – one for Best Artist, and one for Album of the year.

You would have laughed even.

But it wasn’t a joke nor was it a dream you wished to never wake up from; it was as real as life could be.

You were successful in the industry and if any of your fans were asked, they would say that it was because of your immense talent and unproblematic, empathetic, kind character.

It was one of the many reasons why so many people on the internet had shipped you with a certain English man, him having been only 20 when you went viral and got signed.

A year into the industry, it was one day when you remember your Twitter notifications going crazy;

“HARRY STYLES JUST SAID HE LOVES YOUR MUSIC AND THINKS YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL”

“omg pls tell us you watched 1d’s interview with jimmy kimmel”

“IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING! CAN YOU PLEASE BE TOGETHER ALREADY???”

Looking back at that memory, you remember how you were a shaking and overwhelmed mess as you had clicked on the link everybody was sending you.

The video had begun with the audience cheering as the camera was on Jimmy and the 5 men near him.

And there he sat; in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, medium-length hair looking like he had run his fingers through many times, his hands clasped as he looked at Jimmy.

“Who’s most likely to let a woman split the band?” Jimmy had asked.

They had looked at each other, not answering for a moment before Niall chimed in with a laugh as he pointed at Harry, “Harry would let his celebrity crush do that.”

Harry rolled his eyes jokingly as his bandmates agreed and laughed, slapping his hands against his thighs in feigned annoyance.

“Who is that? Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Just this talented person.” He had tried to smile his way through the question, but no one was having it.

“You know Y/N Y/L/N? She’s an amazing singer,” Louis told Jimmy.

“Y/N!” Jimmy beamed, “We had her on the show two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, he watched that.” Liam had gestured towards Harry.

Hiding his face in his hands for a moment, the audience cheered as his friends continued to laugh.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Jimmy asked Harry in a teasing manner.

Having had decided to get it over with, Harry nodded as he clasped his hands together again, “She’s very talented and beautiful.”

“Lovie, can you help me with the necklace? My nails are still drying.”

You looked up from your place on the couch, sitting in your long dress looking so beautiful that Harry had lost track of time of getting into his own suit because he was too busy giving you a photoshoot on his phone.

Standing up, you reached and clasped his necklace for him, dusting his shoulders to signal that you were done.

Turning, you were met with your boyfriend of 4 years beaming at you before he leaned to press his lips against yours.

“You look so good.” You smiled up at him, “So beautiful.”

“Have to try to catch up with how you look tonight,” he replied with a wide smile, “Nervous?”

“Not really.” You admitted.

Amusingly and completely and utterly in love, Harry tilted his head slightly, “Any reason why you’re not? You usually hate those.”

It was true. You didn’t really like award shows because of how tiresome all the process was; hair, makeup, dressing up, walking only to pause every second, the repeated questions you have been answering for years, how more judgmental the world was on nights like these.

But it was always when Harry was able to be by your side that you liked the night, and the tall man knew it, but he had always loved hearing you say it.

To feed his ego, you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Because you’ll be there.”

“Music to my ears.” He joked, shaking his head slightly.

“Just feeding that already overfed ego of yours, baby.”

“Excuse you.” He pecked your lips, “Let me add food for Evie then we can leave.”

“I’ll do it, don’t mess up your nails.” You patted his chest before moving away to attend to your cat.

The fans and reporters all had anticipated the moment of yours and boyfriend’s arrival, and the both of you knew it.

You were fairly private with your relationship. While everyone knew you were together, the both of you didn’t always post about one another but when you did, it went viral – something you and Harry, shamelessly, enjoyed.

It was why during moments like this, everyone was eager. Reporters were hungry for content, all having different intentions, but you spend enough time in the industry and you sort of begin knowing what to say and how to say it.

Harry was scheduled to perform, something everyone knew of, but it was the fact that you were joining him not on the red carpet, but on stage that they didn’t.

Getting out of the car together, the screams and flashing lights were then doubled.

Harry closed the door behind you with a polite smile to the security standing. Bending a little, he adjusted your dress’s short train for you as you looked back at it before you looked up at him.

As if they weren’t snapping pictures like crazy yet, you reached and fixed Harry’s hair at the front, his eyes looking up with a smile as you did so.

“Thanks, love.”

With that, Harry placed his arm around your waist as you walked to the first spot on the red carpet.

“When was the last time we appeared together? They’re going mad.” You whispered, looking at Harry as he smiled to the cameras.

He chuckled, looking at you, “I think we deprive them too much.”

“Let’s give them enough content to last a year.”

Nobody but the both of you knew what you meant, and it was why the flashing lights and camera shutter sounds were then tripled the moment Harry’s lips were on yours in a soft kiss.

“Can we sign stuff?” You asked a woman standing on the sides, “Can we see the fans?”

When she nodded at you, you and Harry ignored posing for a few minutes to converse and meet fans.

“I love you and Harry so much!” One fan said shakily as you signed a paper for him.

“Thank yo- Hey! I saw you in Amsterdam last year, right?” You grinned.

And that was another thing not only your fans loved about you, but Harry, too.

You were no stranger to connections. You were no stranger to making people feel seen and treating them in a way that no fan expected to be treated – a friend, and you remember friends.

“Harry, do you think Y/N will win Songwriter of the Year?” A fan asked.

Harry shrugged with a smile, “I hope so but we all know she is anyway.” He waved his hand with a joking manner, making the closest fans laugh.

“What about you? Do you think you’ll win Artist of the Year?”

“I don’t know,” he smiled, “There are so many amazing artists. I wish them all the best.”

“He’s a humble man,” you teased, patting his shoulder, “We all know he is anyway.”

You were confused as they, Harry included, laughed in shock. “What?”

“He literally has just said the same thing about you.”

You laughed, looking at Harry, “Shut up, no way!”

“The both of you have been doing that for years.” One fan commented with a grin, “It’s adorable. It’s like telepathy or something.”

“Oh yeah, we are telepathic,” Harry nodded, “It gets a little scary sometimes.”

“Heeey!” You laughed, “It’s actually helpful. One of us would be just walking at home and we’d look at each other and know that the other just means something like “feed Evie” or “take out the trash””

“This is so cute!”

“Harry, what are you performing tonight?”

“You’ll find out in a bit.” He pointed.

Shortly, you and Harry had to take more pictures and do interviews before you were escorted inside.

It was the little moments that fans also lived for; how Harry held your hand as you sat so discreetly, how the both of you chatted and giggled among one another and those around you, how Harry fist-bumped the air the moment your name was called to receive your award of Songwriter of the Year before kissing you. It was how they knew this was real – how love wasn’t something you only listen people sing about or write novels for.

It was in how Harry’s eyes didn’t move from you as you gave your speech, a wide smile on his face and eyes resembling twinkling stars for crying out loud.

It was in how you ended your speech with: “This is to the man who has inspired and pushed me forward to write every single day. I love you.”

It was in how you looked more nervous than Harry himself when his category was called before you were the first to get out of your seat with a happy “yes!” once they announced that he won.

It was in how Harry cupped your face that moment to kiss you before walking to receive his award.

It was in how you remained standing, those behind you only smiling instead of being annoyed, with your hands clutched together against your heart, tearful eyes, and the brightest smile in the room.

“You’re going to tell me this is cheesy,” Harry chuckled slightly, giving a shrug as he looked at you, “But I wouldn’t be standing here, holding this, if it weren’t for you. I love you, too.”

But then Harry was about to perform and you weren’t in your seat.

The award show had decided to make a skit of it, the host being Miley had held her microphone as she stood in the empty isle beside yours and Harry’s empty seats.

“We know Harry Styles is performing in minutes,” she said, looking at the camera with a playful smile, “But where is Y/N Y/L/N? We know, we know,” she nodded, “Probably backstage for some extra good luck but-” people laughed, causing Miley to pause and chuckle, “But seriously, guys. There’s a show and it must go on.”

“It’s going on.” Harry said from backstage into his mic before the stage went dark.

It wasn’t until piano tunes sounded that the arena grew dim, a spotlight on the piano at the center of the stage where you sat, your fingers gentle against the keys as you played the beginning notes of Falling.

“I'm in my bed,

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands.” Harry sang as he came on stage, holding the mic in his hand before taking a seat beside you.

Everyone had expected him to sing the next verse, but it wasn’t his voice that they then heard.

“I'm in my bed

Instead of yours

Cried to sleep turned off all of lights and locked all of the doors.” You sang, eyes on the piano keys.

“Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left.” His eyes were on you, body turned slightly towards you as he felt like the both of you were in your living room in front of your white piano.

“I replay what you said

Don’t know if it’s true

Left with two broken hearts and there’s nothing that we could undo.” You sang, closing your eyes as you got ready for the chorus.

“What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

“What am I now? What am I now?

Don’t want to cry ‘cause I can’t stand the sound

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

The both of you sang together, your voice being softer and quieter than Harry’s.

“What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

“What if I'm down? What if I'm out?

What if you’re someone I can’t live without?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

It was a version nobody had heard before, and it was why everyone was quiet, the only sound coming from you, Harry, and your lone instrument.

It was something you had written together following a rough patch of your relationship, and everyone knew that it was more personal with the way the both of you sang.

When his eyes weren’t closed, Harry sang as he looked at you, and he knew that performing this song meant more to the both of you than anyone could imagine. One look at your face and Harry knew you were reliving the night of when the both of you had written this; eyes a little red from crying, bodies hot, Harry wearing a hoodie of yours while you sat in your underwear with his purple fluffy robe on.

“Can I do this alone without ever needing you again?”

“And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again.”

You both sang the bridge together, yours being shorter than Harry’s note as you carried a softer tone, closing your eyes as you played the piano, feeling your throat close up before gulping.

He knew.

It was why the final chorus was sung softer and quieter, Harry’s forehead resting against your temple for a moment as the both of you sang.

“I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.” Harry finished, putting his mic down as he stared at you with a small smile, watching you in your element as you played.

Managing to look at him as you played single soft notes, you sang, “I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.”

You played the end single notes, looking at Harry with tearful eyes and a bashful smile.

It was like you were unaware to the erupted cheer and round of applause, you threw your arms around Harry, feeling his arms wrap around you instantly.

Crying from the overwhelming emotions, you were thankful your mascara was waterproof. You called it.

“I love you,” Harry whispered in your ear, “I love you so much.”

[anon-drabble]

past pure; present tainted; future uncertain

chapter 1-3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 |

all right this has become a full fic so i’m reposting some short drabbles that are now going to be my next chaptered fic. this is chapters 1 through 3, though 1 acts as sort of a prologue aka the parts i’ve already written plus a NEW chapter that will show you more of where this is going.

a sort of childhood au, where jumin met mc when they were young. she was his fondest memory but meeting her again, at the rfa party, he realizes that even that little girl has been stained by everything he hates.

in other words, i shamelessly stole the plot from skip beat! and butchered until it suited my interests lol. sorry, i’m just a sucker for childhood friends *shoves the wip of saeran and mc as childhood friends and zen and mc as childhood friends under the table* lol.

will contain minor angst but i don't predict anything too heavy. at least not heavy for me lol.

long titles lately from me, lol. this will just be known as "tainted" from me or the tainted series. so you can always find it with the tag “tainted series”

i've been wanting to sort of try to write a slow-burn but i'm not great at longer series.this isn't strictly slow burn really but there are delays and obstacles that prevent an immediate happy ending.

this will likely be told in a back-and-forth style of present vs past. the prologue/chapter 1 was the present. chapter 2 was the past, chapter 3 is the present, etc.

and in the interest of my posts actually showing up, links won’t be posted any more on new works but the masterlist is pinned on my page and the links to ko-fi and ao3 and twitter are all there as well.

The first time he saw her face was at the RFA party. Well, the present her. Her face as a child, smiling and carefree was burned into his memory; his most precious possession. The way she'd looked at him, really and truly at him with the complete lack of caring about how society might view the rich child, but also with the easy but heavy respect only children can give to their peers. She cared nothing about his family or his life. She smiled for him and at him alone, the expression untainted in every possible way.

He always remembered that smile.

When he saw the woman at the RFA party, he thought he recognized something about her. When he heard her laugh from across the room, he suspected he may have met her before. 

But when she smiled, he knew.

And when he approached her as Jumin Han but also as the boy she'd once made promise to forever serve her as her knight, he watched her eyes. Waiting for her to recognize him as he had her.

She smiled at him, met his gaze... And introduced herself. She didn't know, hadn't realized who this man had once been. The smile wasn't the one he knew. It felt heavy with propriety. She was being polite, she was restrained, she saw him as an acquaintance. It was a nice smile but it was weighted in society's rules.

But what hurt was the way her eyes moved quickly from his expensive coat, to the champagne in his hand, to the watch that cost more than her college tuition. She didn't focus on any of those things but she noticed them. 

Still, she smiled, and she was beautiful. But it seemed she no longer saw as deeply into him. She wasn't the girl from before. Not entirely.

"It is a pleasure to meet you." The miniscule tightening of his jaw was the only hint of disappointment. He couldn't fault her that much. After all, he had changed as well. But the knowledge that the purest feeling he'd ever known was now tainted…

His chest felt tight.

chapter 2

There was a path between hedges behind V’s estate and Jumin’s. The land belonged to one of them but the families had a good enough relationship that they didn’t quibble over who specifically owned the spot. It was mostly overgrown and inaccessible by the adults anyways. Jumin and V could slip through the hedges and Jumin in particular often retreated there to read in the afternoons when he didn’t wish to be at home. Or when there was a certain person at home he wished to avoid. The small patch of land was surrounded by hedges where it bordered the estates and a natural border was formed by a small but active creek. Between the creek and the hedges was a natural lawn of soft moss, some flowers, and a spotlight of sun if you visited during the right time of day. It was quiet there and peaceful and it seemed to be a secret only V and Jumin shared.

Until the day that footsteps were heard, following the creek. A girl’s voice called for something to slow down as she forced herself into the private clearing. She noticed Jumin right away and stopped.

“Are you here for the fish?” she asked, her eyes darting to the water.

Jumin shook his head, his book still poised in his lap as she had interrupted.

She glanced at his book. “Oh. Are you at least reading a book about fish?” she asked, trying to peer at the book’s cover.

“No. I simply came here to read. I do not concern myself with fish.”

“That’s a waste,” she said. She jumped over a narrow part of the creek, crossing to where Jumin sat. “You’re dressed fancy to read,” she commented. He was in his uniform still from school which probably did look needlessly over the top to her.

“Reading doesn’t require a dress code,” he replied simply.

She grinned, wide and proud. “That’s right! Neither does looking at the fish! Come, see!” Without waiting, she grabbed his hand, dragging him over to the water.

Jumin had no desire to look at the fish but she had a surprising amount of force, as evidenced by the grass stains on his trousers as she pulled him. He looked into the water as she instructed and just beneath the surface were minnows. As they swam around, the girl was quick to assign them all names, though it would be impossible to recognize one from the other. She chattered on but Jumin wasn’t entirely listening. The sun had shifted and as he looked down at the water, he could see their reflection. He saw himself looking somewhat stiff, like his father. Something V had said to him before as well. But next to him, this girl. Brambles in her curly hair. Casual clothing. The largest, simplest smile he’d seen in his life. She still held his hand as she talked. She talked and acted like a child. She treated Jumin as someone her age, which he was. But he’d never been allowed to be a child like she was.

No one else had ever thought to look at Jumin Han and see him as the young boy he was rather than the son of Chairman Han.

He smiled, gripping her hand, and tried to remember the fish’s names and stories as this girl rattled them off. Truthfully, he cared nothing for the fish and only wished that her smile might never leave her face.

chapter 3

The memories flooded him the night of the RFA party. Of this girl, the one he’d met in the backyard that day. He watched her as she shuffled about the room. Smiling, laughing, by all accounts, a lovely woman. Jumin had liked her before he realized who she was, when she was just a faceless member who found herself in their chatroom under odd circumstances. The others all grew fond of her. But Jumin now found it impossible to view her as only the present-day version of herself. The adult woman laughed and he heard the girl’s laughter, he remembered the way she’d throw her head back, her entire body laughing with her. The laugh was the same but restrained now. She was restrained. Jumin felt lied to, betrayed. He wished he didn’t remember her.

Jumin ended up trying to avoid her. She made him uncomfortable, the way he remembered her. But as the night wore on and guests began to leave, the party quieted down. Jumin was in the small kitchen area taking advantage of the leftover food while no one demanded his attention. MC obviously had the same idea. She smiled at him, and again he was struck with the familiarity of it as well as how different it seemed. It was a reflection, almost. The same, but different in indescribable ways that made it somehow wrong.

“It’s nice to be away from everyone for a bit, isn’t it?” she asked, leaning casually against a counter to eat her plate.

Jumin simply dipped his head as a nod. “I’m grateful all of Zen’s fans are gone. They often create the most noise.”

She laughed and Jumin inwardly cringed. That laugh just made him remember more and more every time. “You say that as though the press weren’t fussing over you for most of the night.”

“I did not encourage them to do so.”

“I think your mere presence encouraged them. Just like Zen’s looks encourage his fans,” she replied thoughtfully.

He remembered the way her eyes had shifted almost imperceptibly over his suit, his watch. She’d noted his wealth then and now she seemed to be pointing it out again. “I would rather they focus on our cause and the charity.”

“Next time, I’ll try to cater the guests more towards what we want the focus to be,” she said. “I don’t think I was as effective as I could have been this time, but it’s a lesson I’ll take to the next party.”

Jumin looked into his glass of wine. “You did well. It was your first party and it has been a success. That was all we asked of you.”

MC took a few steps forward, toward Jumin. She leaned to get a closer look. “You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked with a smile.

Jumin blinked in surprise, the smile slamming him at full force. His chest tightened. “I do remember you,” he said softly. “I thought you had forgotten.”

She shook her head. “I never forgot you. You were my best friend for a long time, even after we had to leave.”

He looked into her eyes and saw the innocent traces of that girl. She wasn’t the same but maybe enough of her was still there. For the first time, he smiled at her. “I valued our friendship a great deal. Though I cannot take the title of best friend from V,” he chuckled.

“That’s completely fair. He was there, too, wasn’t he? He played with us sometimes.”

“Yes, he did. I recall you climbing onto his shoulders to reach a flower on the tree. I could not understand why the flowers on the ground wouldn’t satisfy you, but you wanted the one on the tree.” Talking to her was easy now, remembering those days. She was still bright and cheerful. Though she had seemed different, Jumin must have changed as well. Perhaps it was unfair to judge her so quickly. To write her off despite the fondness he had for her. Being with her now, in the present, she was beautiful and as charming as she had been.

She laughed at the memory. “Oh, I remember that! I kicked him in the face when I slipped!” She paused, a blush spreading across her cheeks. “I almost fell out of the tree, do you remember? I grabbed the branch when I slipped from his shoulders. But you…” She smiled all the way up to her eyes and he wanted to drown in those eyes. “You ran under me and caught me,” she finished fondly, affectionately. Jumin felt a warmth from her gaze, something he’d never experienced before. He couldn’t place a name to his feeling but he wanted more. More conversation, more of her smile, just more of her. “You were my first love, all those years ago,” she admitted, putting her plate down beside her. “Even though we never knew each other's names. So… it’s nice to meet you. My name is MC.” She extended her hand to shake.

Jumin held her gaze and took her hand, but brought it to his lips to kiss instead. But rather than just flesh, he felt something sharp poke his lips. She was still blushing, smiling, clearly receptive to his kiss to her hand. But he looked down and saw the ring for the first time. He froze, unable to process or accept what the stone on her ring finger meant.

She saw him looking at her ring and shyly pulled her hand back. “Oh. I didn’t mention it to you. I’m engaged.” She must have seen how his expression fell, how his smile had disappeared. “It’s an arranged marriage,” she said quickly. “My father introduced us. After we moved, he happened to become drinking buddies with my fiancé’s father, and well… They’re a very well-off family.”

Jumin stiffened visibly at that. “Congratulations,” he said coldly. He felt as though he’d been slapped. No, more than that. He was destroyed. She had nearly seduced him.. He thought she hadn’t changed but now he was confronted with the ugly truth. Engaged. Already out of his reach. But that wasn’t the knife twisting in his back. It was the way she smiled at her ring. The way she casually brought up the money, the warmth in her voice. After all. He had been right the first time. The little girl he’d known had grown into a woman just like the ones constantly tainting his father. Jumin felt sick to his stomach. The warmth he’d felt for her was now a black hole, eating him alive. “I’m sure they realize how lucky they are,” he said, his words only polite, with no truth behind them. “Be sure to teach your children how to properly climb trees.”

She awkwardly laughed. She could sense the change in Jumin, though he’d adjusted and had mostly hidden his true displeasure. She guessed he was just embarrassed for being rejected. “Well, I don’t know how much they’ll be allowed to climb trees,” she joked, meaning her future husband would want proper heirs to grow up like Jumin, though if she had her way, she wouldn’t restrict the children.

To Jumin, her words simply solidified that she wanted money, she wanted the false approval for being wealthy, she wanted her money to define her and her family. Just like all the other women he had known. What a fool for thinking she might have been different. How had he allowed himself to be tricked by her?

And why did he still see that perfect little girl in her smile, and still experience the flutter in his heart when she looked at him?