"Some photos steal your soul. Others whisper that it was never just about the picture."
Ava woke to the scent of cinnamon and scandal.
The cinnamon was from the hotteok they'd eaten the night before. The scandal was from Mei's voice—echoing through the suite door at an ungodly hour.
"Ava! Ryan! You're already late!"
Ava bolted upright. "What?!"
Ryan groaned and rolled over, shirtless, hair everywhere. "Tell her I died."
Ava flung off the covers and grabbed her phone.
One unread message.
[Forwarded by: Mei]
PHOTOSHOOT – FINAL CALL TIME 8:00 A.M.
(Note: Edited by assistant on request.)
She checked the time. 8:32.
Mei's voice pierced again. "Your hanbok awaits! Don't ruin this with your American timing!"
Ava screamed into a pillow. "She changed the calendar!"
"She weaponized the calendar," Ryan mumbled, dragging himself toward the bathroom. "How is she both loving and legally chaotic?"
"You think this was a passive-aggressive mistake?"
