[fic] Pretty
//Pairing//: Hyuna x Kevin (U-Kiss)
//Prompt//: This song
//Rating//: PG-13, for themes
//Summary//: Pretty isn't everything.
//Word Count//: 916
//Author's Note//: Written for starorchid23. Sorry for not telling you about the AU theme earlier - I just rolled with it. ^^
Pretty
She is a denizen of the night, without a doubt. An angel who has had her wings clipped, as she stands by the roadside, all red lipstick, sequins and lace. Taking a long drag of the cigarette she holds between two slender digits - she picked the vice up at an early age - her gaze darts amongst the pools of light that illuminate the darkened street. Sitting in a shard of rose-tinted light from a nearby bar, her flame-red hair glistens like a ruby halo in the night.
“Hey gorgeous, how about you and me go somewhere a little more private...” The stench of soju and a brush of rough tweed against her shoulder makes her glance up at the figure who blocks out the light. Immediately, her perfect lips settle into a frown.
“I’m not that kind, maybe you should try the brothel down the road.” She doesn’t bat an eyelid at the sleazy stranger, focusing her attention back to blowing smoke rings into the balmy night air.
“C’mon, I know who you are, I bet the lounge doesn’t pay you half of what you’ll earn to spend a night with me, huh? Come on baby, come on Hyuna…” His voice makes her stomach turn, and she pushes him roughly away, stubbing her cigarette out viciously on the pavement before ducking behind the curtained entrance to the lounge, telling Minjoo the bouncer not to let that harassing son-of-a-bitch in even if his life depends on it.
She leaves just in time for her to hear him shout, “Slut, who the hell do you think you are? You’re no different to any of the ones on this street, who the hell do you think you are?”
Only ten more minutes before she’s due onstage, and the crowd of half-cut salarymen out there thirsty for cheap wine and thrills before they stumble back in the dark to their nagging wives will be wanting a good show. She shrugs to no one in particular, before looking at her reflection in the backstage mirror.
“You look gorgeous, babe, don’t pay any attention to what that asshole by the door said. You’re special. Different.”
She stops, holding a tube of lipstick in her hand, as her gaze shifts to the speaker’s reflection in the mirror. Smiling, she puts her make-up away and turns around, arms akimbo to face the owner of that familiar voice.
“Oppa, you always say the nicest things,” She reaches out to him for a hug, nevermind that he’s already got his costume and stage make-up on. The rustle of a feather boa follows and she is enveloped in a comforting hug, then a “tut-tut” as he fusses over her outfit and clicks his tongue.
“Not Oppa, ‘Sunghyun’, repeat after me - Sung. Hyun. See? Easy. Now say it with me…” The delicately-lined lips repeat the two characters another three times, just to drum it properly into her head, and she dutifully follows suit. Hyuna can smell his perfume, and the softness of his hands as he gives her one last squeeze before pulling away from their embrace. “You should be thankful I don’t call you Kevin -” She says it because she knows it will get him, and it does. He laughs, and shoves her playfully, polished nails narrowly grazing her bare shoulder. “You - babo! You’re lucky you’re pretty, or your cheekiness would have gotten you in a lot of trouble by now!”
“Pretty isn’t everything, Oppa,” Hyuna reaches for her earrings - sparkling, dangly affairs - and hooking them on as she looks at both their reflections in the mirror. A pretty face, that’s all she is, she realizes. Pretty might not be everything, but-
She doesn’t get to finish her thought before he voices it for her while primping in the mirror, stealing her powder brush to put the finishing touches to his make-up. “Pretty isn’t everything, but pretty to people like you, and me - it’s what pays the bills. Some people were just destined to be empty vessels-” A brush of powder, a waft of exotic perfume, a rich, throaty laugh. “-not like there’s anything wrong with that.”
“Time to get your gladrags on, girls, it’s showtime!” The manager of the lounge pops his head through the gap in the heavy velvet drapes, and beckons towards the two of them before disappearing in much the same way.
There is no time to think - a swig of whisky for Dutch courage, a quick good luck hug and last-minute make-up checks is all they have time for. Hyuna readies herself, her pinky reaching for his amongst all their feathers and sequins, and it may be the glare from the spotlight, but she thinks that he catches her gaze, just for a moment, before looking out at the crowd. “Nasty crowd tonight,” he shrugs, whilst peeking through the curtains. “Sorry, babe.”
She flashes him a quick smile, which he returns, she thinks - his drag-queen eyebrows give him a look of permanent surprise - and she almost walks right on stage, before he holds her back.
“Wait.”
She turns to look over her shoulder. A look. A smile. A moment.
“Knock ‘em dead, girl.”
Hyuna beams, and nods, her curls bouncing as she leans in to peck him on the cheek. “Oppa, I will, don’t you worry.” She winks and runs her fingertips along his jawline as he pulls away. “Supper tonight? You’re buying!”
And then, in a whirl of perfume and sparkle, she waltzes out of his reach.