Black Label [EN]: Chapter 22

Black Label 21

22. The Eve of the Storm

Park Jung-ho, a reporter from CubaCuba, pulled a sheet of A4 paper from his bag.

It was a model release form, essentially a self-introduction that street style subjects filled out: Name, age, occupation, personal social media handles or blog address, a brief description of their outfit, and answers to a few quick questions.

“You said your name is Yeong-guk, right? Please fill this out first.”

“Ah, yes.”

While Yeong-guk filled out the form, Park Jung-ho adjusted his camera’s aperture and made small talk.

“Your friend seems to know CubaCuba?”

“Of course. Who doesn’t?”

CubaCuba was definitely one of the top three online fashion magazines, or *’webzines’ (a portmanteau of Web and magazine)*, in Korea.

It had started as a user-based community site, evolved into a webzine, and eventually become an online retailer, or ‘online 편집 shop’ [a curated online store featuring various brands].

“A lot of models and designers got their start through CubaCuba’s street snaps, right?”

“Ah, yes, that’s right. I actually photographed Kim Won-jun before he officially debuted. I had no idea he’d become so successful….”

Just as Park Jung-ho was about to continue, hoping to ease the slight tension before the shoot, Yeong-guk handed back the completed form and spoke.

“I’ve finished writing it. But my hands are freezing, so the writing’s a little shaky.”

Yeong-guk’s handwriting was never great to begin with. The cold weather only made it worse.

Park Jung-ho slowly examined the self-introduction.

‘Let’s see…’

Name: Son Yeong-guk

Age: 18

Occupation: Student (Class Clown)

Q: Nice to meet you! Please give a brief introduction to CubaCuba’s readers.

A: Nice to meet you! My name is Son Yeong-guk! My dream is to become a rapper as famous as Kanye West.

Q: Where were you headed?

A: I came to Myeongdong to buy a Macbook for making music, and I ran into the reporter on my way home after closing the deal.

Q: Can you describe the items you’re wearing?

A: The jacket, black jeans, and T-shirt are all from the new brand Wall Flower. Only the boots are vintage.

Park Jung-ho quickly scanned the key information, then tilted his head slightly.

“You’re a high school student? Not that you don’t look it, but you’re in such good shape, I thought you were in college.”

“I guess it’s because I work out. I’ve been doing it pretty consistently for about two years.”

Jae-seung, standing beside him, smiled and added, “He gets a little *too* competitive for someone who just does it as a hobby.”

Park Jung-ho nodded a few times and circled back to the most intriguing part.

“Hmm, Wall Flower? Is that a new designer brand? I don’t think I’ve heard of it, but the clothes are really nice.”

Even the simple cotton T-shirt had a unique design, and the jacket and black jeans seemed to be made from a very unusual material.

Yeong-guk puffed out his chest and, with a confident air, gently stroked the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

“It’s not officially launched yet, and the clothes aren’t even for sale. You wouldn’t know about it.”

He casually put his arm around Jae-seung’s shoulder, as if bursting with pride, and continued.

“Just so you know, this friend of mine made these clothes.”

Park Jung-ho exclaimed, “Ah!” then tilted his head again.

“Your friend’s also a high school student?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Wow, your skills are amazing….”

Park Jung-ho, despite working as a street reporter, was also a fashion school graduate from Hongshin University’s Department of Fashion Design, considered a prestigious program in the fashion world.

He could immediately recognize the intricate details and quality of Yeong-guk’s outfit.

He snapped his fingers.

“Could your friend join the shoot? It would make the pictures even better.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s… not going to work.”

Jae-seung politely declined with an awkward smile. He felt underdressed in his casual clothes.

He regretted not paying more attention to his appearance.

“It’s a first impression kind of thing, so I don’t want to be seen looking so shabby.”

“Hmm. If that’s the case, I understand. Okay, let’s start shooting right away. It’s cold.”

With Park Jung-ho’s cue, the shoot began.

First, several full-body shots, then close-ups of the individual pieces of clothing. He paid special attention to the jacket and black jeans.

The quick shoot wrapped up in under ten minutes. Park Jung-ho pulled out a pre-prepared envelope and handed it to Yeong-guk.

“Thank you for your time. This is a small fee for your participation.”

As Yeong-guk thanked him and bowed, Park Jung-ho handed Jae-seung his business card.

“When you officially launch, I’ll definitely buy something. Please give me your number, either text or call.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you. I’ll put it in my phone now.”

He figured it couldn’t hurt to connect with the webzine reporter.

He might not get a lot of help, but even a little exposure would be beneficial.

“And since you didn’t include your personal social media or blog address, Yeong-guk, can I post the Wall Flower site address instead?”

It was an offer he couldn’t refuse. Even if only 1% of CubaCuba’s viewers, which often reached 10,000, clicked on the Wall Flower blog, that would be 100 people. Jae-seung smiled brightly.

“Ah, yes! Just a moment. I’ll write down the address.”

Jae-seung wrote down the address of the Wall Flower blog shop with the pen Park Jung-ho provided.

“We don’t have an official site yet, so we’re selling through the blog shop. I’d appreciate it if you could include this address.”

“Okay, I understand. I’ll make a note of it.”

“For your information, the snap will be posted tomorrow. It needs some editing first. Anyway, thank you both for your hard work. I really appreciate you agreeing to the shoot.”

After a few more words, Jae-seung and Yeong-guk hurried off.

Park Jung-ho watched them go, a faint smile on his face.

‘Wall Flower… I’m glad I stuck around until the end. Good job, me.’

It was the most promising shoot he’d done recently. Humming, Park Jung-ho began to pack up his gear.

* * *

Ziiiiiiiiing-!

Park Jung-ho, who had stayed up all night editing the street snap photos, woke up earlier than expected. His phone, vibrating incessantly by his head, was the culprit.

‘…Who is it?’

Squinting, Park Jung-ho picked up his phone and checked the caller ID.

It was Lee Min-hyuk, a senior colleague who managed the ‘CubaCuba Store’, the online shop run by CubaCuba itself.

“Hyung [older brother/male friend], what’s wrong? Why are you calling so early…?”

As soon as Park Jung-ho asked sleepily, an excited voice came through the speaker.

“What’s wrong? Are you kidding me? Hey, Park Jung-ho. What’s that street snap photo you posted this morning?”

“Yes? Why? Are there typos? I checked everything, but did I miss something because I was so tired? I was editing all night….”

“No, that’s not it. Wall Flower? What is this brand?”

Park Jung-ho sat up, his body heavy with exhaustion, and asked quietly.

“Yes? What’s wrong with the brand?”

“First of all, do you have their numbers?”

Park Jung-ho paused, trying to recall, then shook off the last vestiges of sleep and replied.

“I don’t have the model’s number, but I have the designer’s number. Why?”

“Send me that designer’s number right now. And check the snap you posted.”

With that, the call ended abruptly. Lee Min-hyuk, the manager of the CubaCuba Store, had said what he needed to say and hung up.

“What? Seriously….”

Park Jung-ho muttered and immediately sent the young designer’s number.

Then, he sat down at his computer and grabbed the mouse.

Thanks to his habit of leaving his computer on 24/7, the monitor sprang to life as soon as he touched the mouse.

And then.

“Huh?”

Park Jung-ho’s eyes widened as he looked at the street snap post he had uploaded just before going to bed.