Black Label [EN]: Chapter 152

152. The Time When Prejudice Breaks (3)

The moment the last model finished her walk and disappeared backstage, the music from the speakers ended perfectly on cue.

From the show’s opening to its conclusion, the audience’s attitude had undergone a transformation.

Critics who had initially frowned with arms crossed were now perched on the edges of their seats, their eyes glued to the runway.

“It’s truly captivating.”

“Indeed.”

Everyone present understood that the upcoming ‘finale stage’ represented their final opportunity to witness the haute couture designs firsthand.

After a moment of palpable silence, music with a distinct oriental flair once again filled the garden from the strategically placed speakers.

Géraldine, who had murmured a questioning, “Hmm…?” turned to Mélanie, the junior editor from Paris Vogue seated beside her.

“Mélanie, do you have the program?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What’s the title of this piece?”

Mélanie, responding softly, said, “Just a moment,” as she carefully examined the program in her hand before cautiously answering. “It’s listed as ‘Court Musician,’ an OST [original soundtrack] piece from the movie *Jeon Woo-chi*.”

“*Jeon Woo-chi*?”

“Yes. It appears to be a Korean film.”

Géraldine Soglio nodded thoughtfully.

Using a movie OST as background music for a fashion show was not uncommon.

But there was something special about this choice.

Unlike the generic music accompanying the models’ walks, the finale’s soundtrack seemed to be arranged with modern, dynamic rhythms that were genuinely exciting.

*It was a brilliant choice*, she thought.

To the infectious rhythm that made her involuntarily nod her head, the models who had graced the runway earlier reappeared, one by one.

This time, they moved with a newfound freedom, unbound by formality or rigid rules.

“This free-spirited walking must be Lee’s doing, right?”

Géraldine simply replied to Mélanie’s question, “Probably.”

As the last of the models took their places on the runway, the two individuals who could be considered the true stars of this DIOM haute couture collection emerged.

‘Lee,’ leading the way, and his sub-designer, ‘Kang Jun,’ stepped onto the runway.

Instantly, a thunderous wave of cheers erupted from the audience.

“Waaaaah-”

*Was it because the show had begun amidst boos that the audience was now so enthusiastically praising its conclusion?*

Lee’s expression was triumphant, almost arrogant.

A mischievous smile played on his lips as he strolled along the runway, his hands casually tucked into his suit pockets.

Even without a simple wave, the cheers from the audience showed no sign of abating.

The fashion world could be a cruel arena, but it was also endlessly generous and forgiving to its victors.

With the skills to justify it, a touch of arrogance became an asset, a mark of individuality.

And ‘Lee’ was undoubtedly one of this year’s winners.

Reaching the end of the runway, Lee gestured subtly, and a staff member rushed forward with a handheld microphone.

After tapping the microphone to test it, ‘tap, tap,’ Lee raised it to his lips, and the background music *faded out* [gradually decreased in volume to create a natural ending].

“I’d like to greet you all once more. I’m designer Lee, who, until a few hours ago, was in charge of being the ‘year’s punching bag’.”

His playful greeting was met with soft laughter from the audience.

Lee scanned the crowd before speaking in a gentle tone.

“The DIOM haute couture show, which generated a great deal of buzz, has finally come to an end. First, I want to express my sincere gratitude to everyone who stayed until the end, to Chairman Ardo for his unwavering support, and to all my colleagues who worked tirelessly day and night.”

As Jaeseung bowed slightly, a wave of applause rippled through the audience.

Jaeseung smiled and raised his hand as if to quiet them before continuing.

“Since I’ve already presented the work, I don’t believe there’s much more to add. However, I took the microphone because there was something I truly wanted to say to the members of the DIOM House, taking this opportunity.”

As Jaeseung finished speaking, the venue fell silent.

He scanned the audience, as if searching for someone.

Finally, his gaze settled on ‘Chloé,’ the Meister [master tailor] of the atelier, seated on the far left.

*Was it because this was her last project as a tailor?*

Chloé simply gazed at Jaeseung on the runway, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The tailors from the atelier and the designers from the design team sat beside her.

Jaeseung smiled warmly at them and added in a calm voice, “Our efforts will be remembered whenever DIOM’s history is recounted for decades, even centuries, to come. This summer I spent with you was so beautiful that even moths looked like butterflies. I was grateful, and I am grateful.”

Jaeseung concluded with a simple, “That’s all,” before turning and heading backstage.

The reporters busily captured his retreating figure, while the editors and critics scribbled notes on his speech.

*I remember the DIOM House, which never slept. I remember the scent of that place. I remember the incredible colleagues who poured their hearts into their work, sweating and striving with the passion of beginners.*

*Isn’t there a saying that every meeting is the beginning of a farewell? Now is the time to bid adieu to the colleagues with whom I’ve worked this season.*

*That’s usually the case with farewells. Even when anticipated, the sense of loss remains.*

*This journey at DIOM was like that.*

* * *

Clang-

The sound of clinking glasses mingled with a chorus of toasts.

Toasts celebrating the success of the DIOM haute couture collection, praising Director Lee, and comforting Meister Chloé on her retirement filled the air.

The after-party was held in the banquet hall of the Granville mansion, where the show had taken place.

The tables were laden with dishes and cognac champagne prepared by chefs personally commissioned by Chairman Ardo.

Instead of speakers, an orchestra, also sponsored by Chairman Ardo, played symphonies.

As the guests reveled in their victory, Chairman Ardo, his face flushed, fixed a keen gaze on Jaeseung and asked, “I was certain that investing in you would yield results. Thanks to you, I have a little more faith in my intuition.”

“Thank you.”

“What is there to thank me for? There are plenty of old men in the world who would gladly buy a young man’s talent with money.”

“Still, you were the only one who readily invested.”

“I appreciate you saying that.”

Chairman Ardo swirled the wine in his glass with the practiced ease of a sommelier, then raised his head slightly and inquired, “So, what are your thoughts?”

“Are you referring to how I feel about no longer being the ‘punching bag’?”

Chairman Ardo chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. “Those who were tearing you apart yesterday are now singing your and DIOM’s praises. Several prominent agencies have already expressed interest in acquiring licenses for the haute couture designs for their actors to wear at the year-end awards ceremonies and film festivals.”

“Ah, those thoughts are truly thrilling.”

“I’ve also heard that the CNN STYLE documentary about you is receiving a flood of pre-orders for DVDs to be sold after the broadcast. You’ve become a star designer overnight. You’ve surpassed most of those you once envied.”

Having successfully completed the season at DIOM, Jaeseung had earned a ‘free pass,’ allowing him to take control of virtually any brand in the world.

As Jaeseung smiled contentedly, Chairman Ardo continued, “Lee, you know… there’s an even bigger offer waiting for you than anything I’ve mentioned.”

“Yes? What kind of offer…?”

“I want to hire you as a designer for an agency under our LVMH Group [Louis Vuitton Moët Hennessy, a French multinational corporation and conglomerate specializing in luxury goods].”

His words sent a chill through the air.

*Belonging to an agency under the LVMH Group. For designers, it was the ultimate validation of success.*

Jaeseung shook his head. “Chairman, as you know, I already have my own brand in Korea…”

“I’ll buy it.”

“Yes?”

“There’s no reason why I shouldn’t, is there? The LVMH Group already owns dozens of premium brands.”

“Wallflower isn’t a premium brand yet.”

“With you at the helm, it’s only a matter of time.”

Chairman Ardo spoke firmly, then raised his eyebrows and added, “Name your price. Consider it a blank check. If the amount you set is more excessive than you can imagine, we’ll adjust the contract conditions.”

It was an offer that anyone would accept without hesitation.

But why? The deliberation stretched on.

As time passed, the shadows between Chairman Ardo’s eyebrows deepened.

“I don’t think the time is right yet.”

“What? Why on earth…?”

“I want to grow Wallflower on my own.”

“Huh…”

Jaeseung picked up a long french fry, a golden stick dusted with orange cheese powder, from a side dish.

He drew a line across the table with the end of the fry.

“I want to see Wallflower become a competitor to the LVMH Group. I want to see it become a premium brand so huge that it can compete equally with all the premium brands that are your subsidiaries.”

Chairman Ardo, his lower lip slightly pouting, took a deep breath and said, “I respect your youthful ambition.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell me anytime if you change your mind.”

Jaeseung nodded slowly, responding with a smile.

Another show is over.

However, even before Jaeseung could fully savor the glory he had earned, he was already planning his next show.

*It was a plan related to the world’s four major fashion weeks next year, where Wallflower will be ranked as a premium brand.*