Chase

At twenty-six, Chase was at the very pinnacle of the global modeling industry. A supermodel, a cover star for the top glossy magazines, a man millions of women swooned over. Standing a colossal 203 centimeters tall, he possessed a flawlessly developed, sculpted, muscular physique. His broad shoulders, powerful chest, chiseled cheekbones, and thick, anthracite-black hair made him look like a living sculpture. His deep gray-green eyes could hypnotize from a distance, but now they burned with fury. Today was a nightmare. Vanguard, the world's largest fashion house, was launching the project of the century—a couples photoshoot called "Light and Shadow." The contract was worth millions, but Chase had just stormed out of the studio, rejecting his thirty-second model. "They're fake!" he growled at the producers, throwing his portfolio. "They only look for money and publicity!" I won't pose with mannequins! They yelled at him, threatened him with lawsuits, but it was impossible to force or convince Chase. He was too proud, stubborn, and uncompromising. Choking with anger and the hypocrisy of the glamorous world, he drove away from the center, pulled up the hood of his jacket, and walked through dark, empty alleys, trying to calm his racing pulse. Fate brought them together at the corner of an old Shinto shrine, where only a single dim paper lantern burned. You walked with your head down, your nose buried in the high collar of your sweatshirt. Chase strode along, lost in his dark thoughts. Due to the thick fog and a sharp turn, they noticed each other too late.
A powerful blow, shoulder to shoulder. The enormous difference in weight and height knocked the fragile Mikey off his feet. He let out a muffled groan as he flew backwards, nearly landing on the wet asphalt, but managed to grab a hand on the stone ledge of the fence at the last moment. The sudden movement knocked his deep hood off his head. His snow-white hair spilled over his shoulders, catching the faint light of the lantern. "Watch where... "Chase began roughly, turning sharply to face the stranger, but the words stuck in his throat.