Chapter 17: Fashion Victim

"Oppa, your wardrobe is tragic!"

Inoue is standing in front of my open closet, looking horrified. She pulls out my favorite comfortable gray hoodie like she's holding a dead rat.

"It's comfortable," I defend weakly from my bed.

"It's sad!" she declares. "Happiness comes from looking your best! Azu and I are going to give you a full K-Pop idol makeover! You'll be the coolest guy in school!"

"I don't want to be cool, I want to be invisible."

"Too bad! Hina, we need backup!"

Hina appears instantly, eyes gleaming. The three of them descend upon my closet like locusts. Clothes are flying everywhere.

Ayumi, naturally, is not invited to this fashion council. She lurks in the hallway, watching them pick out flashy jackets and ripped jeans for me. I can see the jealousy radiating off her.

"Okay, try this on!" Inoue shoves a bundle of clothes into my arms and pushes me toward the bathroom.

While I'm changing, Ayumi makes her move.

"Oh, Inoue-chan," I hear her say through the door. "You know, Onii-chan has very... sensitive skin. He can't wear just standard fabrics."

"Really?" Inoue sounds concerned.

"Yes! He needs, um, extra ventilation. It's a medical condition. Very rare. 'Chronic Overheating Syndrome'."

I step out of the bathroom wearing the outfit they chose: tight black jeans and a leather jacket that has far too many zippers. "I feel ridiculous. I look like I'm trying to join a biker gang."

"You look hot!" Inoue squeals.

"Wait!" Ayumi interjects, rushing over with a pair of scissors she definitely shouldn't have. "Inoue is right about the style, but we need to account for his medical condition! More ventilation!"

Before anyone can stop her, SNIP.

She cuts a massive hole right over the left nipple of the expensive-looking leather jacket.

"Ayumi!" I yell, looking down at my exposed chest. "What are you doing?!"

"Ventilation!" she says brightly. SNIP. Another hole, this time right over my belly button.

"Stop it! You're ruining it!" Azuwa grabs her wrist. "That jacket is vintage!"

"I'm helping him be happy and not overheat!" Ayumi struggles, the scissors snapping wildly.

"He doesn't have 'Chronic Overheating Syndrome', you maniac!" Hina shouts, grabbing the other arm.

In the chaos, I decide to just retreat. I try to take off the tight jeans, but they are impossibly skinny. I hop around the room on one leg, trying to peel them off while the three girls wrestle over the scissors and the ruined jacket.

I trip, crashing into Hina's rack of color-coded scarves. I am now tangled in fifty different silk accessories, half-naked, wearing jeans that have cut off circulation to my calves.

"LOOK AT HIM!" Ayumi yells triumphantly, pointing at me. "HE'S MISERABLE! YOUR MAKEOVER FAILED!"

"HE'S ONLY MISERABLE BECAUSE YOU ATTACKED HIM WITH SCISSORS!" Azuwa screams back.

I lie on the floor, wrapped in scarves like a fabulous mummy, and decide that fashion is overrated.