Chapter Text
Glisten glanced at every reflective surface he passed, checking that he still looked presentable. His heels clicked sharply down the studio hallway.
Room 205. Room 205. Room 205.
He repeated it in his head like a mantra. He couldn’t miss it. Couldn’t be late.
This was his first modeling job.
Once inside, the hours blurred together. He posed flawlessly, simmered spectacularly, smirked charmingly. Every movement felt practiced, deliberate.
But somehow it still felt wrong.
By the time he left, he had already smoothed the satin ribbon at his waist for the twentieth time.
“You did great!” Razzel had said brightly.
“We’ll get back to you in three days,” Dazzel added.
Glisten forced a polite smile, though the words made him cringe. Three days. That usually meant don’t call us, we’ll call you.
He turned the corner with his eyes squeezed shut, exhaling through his nose—
—and walked straight into someone.
“Ah—!”
He stumbled back, eyes snapping open.
“Sorry! I really didn’t mean to do that, darling. Are you alright?”
Boxten stood frozen.
His toolbox was clutched tightly against his chest, mouth slightly open as he stared at the figure in front of him.
“O-oh… uh, yeah— yes!” he stammered, flushing.
He looked completely dumbfounded.
To be fair, the toon standing before him did look like a jewel—polished, radiant, decorated.
“Right… well… sorry,” Glisten said. He stepped neatly around him, doing his best not to let his shoulders creep upward with lingering nerves.
Boxten blinked.
And stayed exactly where he was, still too stunned to move.