The next evening, the modeling campaign kicked off with a glitzy pre-shoot party in a swanky London ballroom—crystal chandeliers dripping light, champagne towers bubbling over, and a crowd of famous models milling around like gods and goddesses on break. Male and female beauties from all over—chiseled jaws, endless legs, bodies sculpted for cameras. Koo walked in on Tae’s arm, “as her manager,” but everyone knew she was the star. She wore a slutty little black dress—barely-there fabric clinging to her curves, hem riding high on her thick thighs, neckline plunging so deep her heavy tits threatened to spill with every breath. No bra, of course—nipples poking through like invitations. The room went quiet for a beat when she entered, then buzzed with whispers.

“Jesus, who’s that?” one male model muttered, eyes glued to her ass as it swayed.