Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 144: The Hanbok Photoshoot Disaster

Chapter 144: The Hanbok Photoshoot Disaster

"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?"

"She once color-coded my emotional damage in a Google Sheet. This is war."

Scene 2 – Arrival at the Venue: Too Late, Too Flustered

The hanok studio was nestled between modern buildings in Insadong, a traditional courtyard house turned high-end photography venue. Cherry blossoms were scattered across the floor like a film set. One room buzzed with clients and stylists, models swishing in silk hanbok.

Ava and Ryan stumbled in, half-dressed and winded.

"We made it," Ava huffed. "Barely."

A stylist beamed. "Miss Lee, you’ll be jade with gold trim. Very bold. And Mister Kim—sky blue. Regal but romantic."

"I’m fine with blue," Ryan said. "As long as it doesn’t choke me like the last silk horror."

"You’re fine with nothing," Ava snapped, eyeing his sash. "Your robe’s already half off."

"Maybe I’m trying to seduce Korea."

"You’re failing."

They were pushed into poses—her hands delicately folded, his arm around her waist. They smiled. They posed. They adjusted the draping. And then—

Ryan’s hanbok slipped. Again.

The stylist shrieked. "Sir! Please! We have aunties watching this shoot!"

Ava snorted. "Cover your royal chest, Your Highness."

"You’re staring," he teased.

"You’re delusional."

But her cheeks were already pink.

Scene 3 – Chaos Next Door: The All-Female Feature

Ava was halfway through retouching her lip stain when an assistant burst in.

"Miss Lee! Quick—next studio. You’ve been requested."

"By who?"

"Editor from Soul & Seoul Magazine. We’re doing a feature on powerful women in modern love leadership."

"Am I... qualified?"

"You have a brand. And opinions."

"Fair."

She followed the assistant into the neighboring studio—and stopped cold.

There stood Min Seo-jun.

Hair pinned in an elegant braided updo. Hanbok in plum and silver. Posture regal, expression unreadable. She didn’t turn as Ava entered.

The photographer clapped. "Perfect! The matchmaker and the strategist. Fire and ice!"

Ava blinked. "Wait—I didn’t sign up for a duet."

Seo-jun finally looked at her.

No words.

Just a small nod.

Scene 4 – The Unintentional Pairing: Ava x Seo-jun

The shoot began with standard poses.

Side by side. Back to back.

Ava tried not to fidget.

Seo-jun stood still like she’d been born to hold centuries in silence.

Then came the real shot.

"Turn toward each other, Ava—good. Seo-jun, softer gaze. Closer. Yes. Now lean—just a breath apart."

Click.

Ava turned, something unguarded flickering in her smile. Seo-jun’s eyes met hers.

Click.

The air shifted. No one spoke.

It wasn’t romantic.

It wasn’t flirtation.

But it was something.

Magnetic.

Still.

Undeniable.

Ava exhaled. "Is it always this... dramatic?"

Seo-jun replied softly, "Only when the camera tells the truth."

Scene 5 – Madam Choi Notices Everything

From the monitor, Madam Choi watched. She sipped green tea, her fingers tapping thoughtfully against the cup.

Mei sidled up beside her, kimono sleeves fluttering.

"She doesn’t even know she’s in a different story yet," Madam Choi said.

Mei smiled. "Ava’s always been the type to walk into fire thinking it’s fog."

"And Seo-jun?"

"Storm," Mei said. "Quiet one. With memory."

They both watched the screen in silence.

Scene 6 – After the Shoot: The Secret Request

Ava rejoined Ryan in the main studio, snacking on honey tteok.

"Well?" he asked. "Did you dominate the power shoot?"

"I was the chaos. She was the calm."

"You attract calm now?"

"She didn’t run away screaming. Progress."

As they walked off laughing, Min Seo-jun lingered behind.

She stepped to the photographer, voice soft in Korean.

"The frame where she turned—her laugh. Please send a copy. Privately."

"For editorial?"

"No," Seo-jun said, a rare smile touching her lips. "For me."

Scene 7 – That Night: A Glimpse She Didn’t Expect

Later, back at the suite, Ava scrolled through digital proofs sent by the studio.

She paused.

One unfamiliar frame.

Her and Seo-jun.

Soft lighting. Tension like silk thread. Her laughter mid-rise. Seo-jun’s eyes locked on her—not cold, not formal. Something in between.

Ava tilted her head.

She didn’t remember that moment.

But it remembered her.

---

The smell of warm barley tea and grilled mackerel wafted through the suite, chasing Ava out of bed and into the kitchen with hair still tousled and Ryan’s oversized tee hanging off one shoulder.

Mei was already perched at the table in a peach silk robe, elegantly buttering a slice of toast like she hadn’t been low-key orchestrating love triangles since sunrise.

"Morning, sleepy blossom," Mei said without looking up. "I trust the hanbok didn’t strangle you in your sleep."

Ava yawned. "Why does my hip still hurt from posing next to a living marble statue?"

"Because tension builds character," Mei replied. "And good cover photos."

Ryan entered, damp from a shower, towel around his neck, eyebrows raised. "So. Are we gonna talk about that photo?"

Ava blinked. "What photo?"

He turned his phone around. "This one. Already circulating in summit group chats."

It was the photo.

Her. Seo-jun. Light spilling like a halo. Eyes turned. Gaze held.

It looked... cinematic.

She blinked. "I—don’t even remember when that was taken."

Ryan studied her. "Interesting."

"Don’t start."

"I’m not starting. I’m observing."

"Observing what?"

"That my fiancée is apparently half of Korea’s new favorite fantasy drama pairing."

Mei sipped her tea with a hum. "It’s very The Ice Strategist and the Fire Matchmaker. I’d watch it."

Ava rubbed her temples. "I posed with her once."

"Twice," Mei corrected. "There was also that shot with the fan."

"Wait—fan?"

"You’ll see."

Ryan leaned over Ava’s chair, nuzzling into her neck. "Jealous? No. Territorial? Mildly."

Ava grinned. "I thought you liked competition."

"Only when I’m winning."

Mei raised her toast like a mic. "Then maybe win her a wedding date already."

Ryan groaned. Ava threw a napkin. Chaos resumed.

But in the back of her mind, that photo lingered.

Not because of how she looked.

Because of how seen she felt.

---

Later that afternoon, with Ryan in the shower again (and humming trot music like he was possessed by a middle-aged uncle), Ava sat curled on the hotel sofa, phone in hand, blanket over her legs.

She wasn’t looking for anything.

She definitely wasn’t thinking about Min Seo-jun.

She just wanted to see what Soul & Seoul Magazine had posted.

A harmless curiosity.

And there it was—front and center on their social feed.

"Two titans of modern love. One unexpected harmony."

#HanbokElegance #PowerWomenOfLove #AvaLee #MinSeoJun

It had nearly 80k likes in two hours.

Ava blinked. Then did what every rational person does in a crisis.

She opened the comments.

@drama_dazed:

omg is this the drama we didn’t know we needed???

@matchmelike:

MINSEOJUN and AVALEE. My gods. The chemistry is INSANE.

WHO is Ryan and WHY is he not in the photo

@seoulsnark:

They look like rivals-to-lovers in a fusion sageuk + Netflix series and I’d watch all 16 episodes twice

@chaoticmatcha:

Me: not gay

This photo: makes me reconsider

@realryankim (verified):

hello yes I’m the Ryan. I was in the blue hanbok. I tripped on a dumpling. please do not cancel me.

Ava snorted tea out of her nose.

She kept scrolling, thumb frozen in motion as the algorithm spiraled:

Fan edits.

A Twitter thread decoding their eye contact.

A meme labeling her "chaotic disaster bisexual energy" and Seo-jun as "stoic dom with a tragic backstory."

One bold user simply wrote:

"Forget matchmaking. Let them swordfight and fall in love."

Ava shut off her phone.

She stared at the ceiling.

"...What just happened?"

Ryan stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying his hair. "You good?"

She held up the phone.

"I think I’ve been gay-shipped with a national strategist."

He grinned. "You’re only mad they picked a prettier co-lead."

"I’m not mad."

"You’re flushed."

"I’m overheating from rage."

"You liked it."

"Go away."

He sat beside her and kissed her temple. "Hey. At least you’re finally famous."

She muttered into her sleeve, "I was already famous."

"Okay but now it’s fandom famous."

A beat.

Then Ava whispered, "Do you think she saw the comments?"

Ryan didn’t tease.

He just looked at her, thoughtful now.

And softly said, "I think she saw you."

---

That night, Ava sat alone on the hotel balcony, wrapped in a blanket, barley tea cooling in her hands. Seoul glittered beneath her like a secret she hadn’t cracked.

Her phone buzzed again. Another comment. Another fan edit. Another slow-motion replay of that moment—her mid-laugh, Min Seo-jun already watching her like she’d always known she would.

Ava hadn’t noticed it then. The gaze. The stillness.

But now, looking back, she realized she had felt something.

Not heat. Not nerves.

A shift.

Like someone had stepped into her orbit and chosen to stay.

She thought of Seo-jun’s request—that photo, sent privately. Not for press. Not for show.

Just for her.

Why?

Because Seo-jun had seen something worth keeping.

And maybe, just maybe... so had Ava.

The balcony door slid open. Mei appeared, silent, graceful, holding a fresh cup of barley tea.

"She’s not what you expected," Mei said softly.

"No," Ava replied. "She’s... calm. But not empty."

"Still waters," Mei murmured. "Deep memories."

They sipped in silence.

Somewhere across the city, Ava imagined Seo-jun standing by a window, just like this—remembering the same moment.

A look.

A laugh.

A recognition neither of them had planned.

Some photos flatter. Some fabricate.

But this one?

This one told the truth.

And Ava wasn’t sure what scared her more—being seen.

Or wanting to be.