"Oh yeah sure," Anette said, getting Ren water before sitting on the couch next to him though. Before things could get too awkward, the door to the studio opened and a few people started coming in.

Tristian hearing the door open reemerged form the back of the studio, smiling at the people who walked in. "Hey everyone!" he greeted, "So I know this was kinda sudden, but I hired a new model right under Yasu's nose," he said, quite proud of the fact, "And I wanted to start getting everyone integrated. Anyway," he singled Ren to come stand next to him, "This is Ren. He's gonna be one of our new models. He's quite natural good.Though he is a bit shy," he made a face not sure if that was exactly the right word "So really everyone do what you can to make him feel welcome."

Finishing, he dismissed everyone to mingle and eat, "Oh and Cyril and Christia come over here, one of you two is gonna be his make-up artist."

The two, a man and woman, emerged from the crowd. Christie was short and almost as mousy looking as Tristian, but hers was without the confidence that Tristian held himself with, instead she shrunk in on her self, bangs hanging into her face to hide her eyes. Cyril was the opposite, tall, thin and confident and Greek, he held himself aloof as if the entire crowd around them was below him. He didn't seem much interested in socializing instead in just getting whatever he needed to do here done and then leaving. He wasn't unfriendly, but he also preferred as little socializing as possible.

"Hi Ren, Tristian," Christie created, her voice soft and quiet, "It's nice to meet you." Cyril nodded, not saying anything, but he did offer a small smile.

Ren sipped on the water. He wanted to move away once Annette handed it to him, but she sat down and he felt he required to sit as well. Before he could work himself up to wandering away, the door opened and people entered, leaving things bustling again. He watched warily, only standing when Tristian motioned him over.

Rather than words, he nodded his head in greeting to the people he would work with, listening with disinterest. Even when Tristian called him shy, he said nothing, as untrue as that was. He was just...less interested in socializing. As the others started to mingle, leaving him, Tristian, and the two make-up artists, Ren focused his gaze a little more. Neither Christia or Cyril seemed all that interesting, but they didn't bother him either. He supposed that counted for something.

"You too," he nodded once again, not bothering to offer his hand to shake.

"Anyway, you'll end up working with whoever you like best here," Tristian said to Ren, "I trust both of their skills with makeup that it doesn't matter who you work with. So whoever, is gonna help you most before a show, that's who you'll work with." Maybe that would be something that would make Ren a little more comfortable, and really he needed the model to feel comfortable before shoots and shows, so that was the best option.

"Oh, before I forget!" he turned to Christie, "Christie, hows your sister's baby? I know you said that she had to be in the hospital for quite awhile after birth, and that thinks definitely looked really bad there for awhile. I hope everything has looked up and your sister and her mate got to take the baby home. And I really hope your time visiting them went well. Really tell me if you need more time off, and right away. You deserve to get to know your nephew." he patted Christie on the shoulder, smiling.

Christie chucked softly, "Yeah, he's fine, getting stronger everyday and settling in well at home. Thank you again," she nodded, smiling appreciatively at her boss.

Cyril, in the meantime, had tuned at Tristian's rambling, as he often did, since it seemed the easiest structure. Instead, he'd been studying Ren's face, getting to know the lay of the canvas as it were. "You really have quite remarkable facial features," he murmured.

Ren nodded his head before gazing at the two make up artists again. He didn't really mind either. Yasu never gave him a choice, just picked the most talented so he didn't know what to think. Making his face look beautiful too, it just didn't strike him with much importance, but then, the clothes didn't either really.

"Either is fine..." he started to mutter when Tristian's question pulled the conversation off in another direction. Ren stared, his breath catching a little at the mention of soulmates. Normally he wouldn't care so much, but then he thought of that child and what it might be like if it lived and its mother didn't. So sad and lonely, but the child wasn't like that. He had people like Christie. Ren had to glance away from them.

It was then he noticed the guy--he already misplaced the name--staring at him. The question left him blinking, shocked right back to reality. "Oh. Thanks."

Tristian pouted a bit at Ren seriously, he needed to find some way to get the model invested in his own life and the things around him. But then maybe he needed to talk about the two make-up artists a little more and Ren could pick something off of that. "Well, I still want you to pick. Cyril is a bit more silent, maybe more like you, I don't know. And probably would focus more on his work than chatting with you, though he does offer great advice if you ever need any." he smiled at the male artist, he'd given Tristian plenty of good advice over the years, even sometimes helping him with his designs, or at least with the perfect make-up look to match a particularly daring designing.

"Christie on the other hand is a little shyer, maybe more talkative than Cyril, but not much. She likes to talk about some of the work she's doing. And usually gets my models more on top of their at home skincare than I ever could. But I figured two makeup artists that aren't as talkative as myself, might make you feel a bit more comfortable Ren. I really do want you to be comfortable here. I feel like I can't emphasize that enough." Though maybe Tristian just not talking to him would be the best way to do that, but that's just not something Tristian had ever been able to do, so he didn't really plan to start to now.

Ren met Tristian's gaze for a brief second. Pick? He'd just assume that someone pick him and wouldn't that be just as effective? He could work with anyone, but not anyone could work with him he'd learned. The silence he created tended to end awkward. He didn't think so, but it must be true. Why else did he always end up alone again? Didn't he already say as much?

Sighing, his shoulders slumped just slightly as he focused his gaze at the door past the others. "I mean it when I say I don't mind either of you. Whoever....most wants to work with me is what I want," he muttered, his voice a little louder and more engaged than before. Still, he hadn't met either Christie's or Cyril's eyes since they arrived. "Isn't that good enough. Won't be uncomfortable, okay?" Maybe he felt strange here at times among such talkative and prying people, but he realized he'd forgotten his earlier troubles in the midst of it. He surprised himself with the thought, but he did think he could be comfortable--in his own definition of the word.

Tristian opened his mouth to protest again, determined to get Ren to participate actively in some way, but before he could comment Cyril spoke up.

"I'll do it. It'll be fun to work with a face like that, and really I'm probably the least talkative out of anyone here if that's a concern." He said, looking at Ren, with a 'I'm trying to save you face.' Cyril new exactly how obnoxious Tristian could get when he got a bee in his bonnet. The guy didn't know when to stop, and Cyril had considered duck taping his boss's mouth closed on more than one occasion for his and everyone else's sanity.

Tristian sighed but nodded, "Okay that'll work, if everyone is really okay with that. Christie will be our back-up for you though in case Cyril is sick or has a family emergency during a show or shoot. Not likely, but contingency plans are always good business." He smiled, "Anway, everyone can kinda socialize as you want, eat some sandwiches. This was my biggest order of business for today. Though I should talk to seamstresses. We need to start getting everything together for the show and then for production afterwards." At this point, thinking out loud more than having a conversation with those around him.

Ren smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting just a bit more than they usually did for his flat smile. It may have been small, but it was all real for once. He nodded his head to Cyril. "Kay. Look forward to it." Christie's soft voice comforted him, but more than anything, he preferred to be someone's preference. Cyril picked him, so Ren picked him back. He didn't get how Tristian couldn't understand that, as his voice seemed to imply.

Smile wavering, he turned his eyes back to Tristian. "Thanks." For what? For caving just now? Ren wasn't sure himself, but he felt the need to say the word. Nodding his head. he backed away before disappearing to the tray of sandwiches. Having not eaten yet that day, he felt desperate for the snack, though he nibbled rather than woofed. He sat in a corner away from everyone else and observed.

There were so many people here. Not like a party, but they all looked happy. He'd like if he could join that happiness too, but something held him back. All of his actions seemed to contradict each other--desperate to get close to people, desperate to run away. Sighing, he dropped his elbows onto his knees and found Tristian with his eyes. Even though he found Cyril and Christie and Annette easier to be around, of all the people here he'd consider talking about himself to, it would be Tristian. Just, maybe not quite yet.

Tristian sighed as he wandered off in pretty much the opposite direction of Ren, feeling in many ways quite discouraged. Tristian was used to many ways dealing with people who found him a bit much to handle, but it seemed that Ren found him too much on a whole different level. And that just really unsettled him. Was it really such a crime to try and get someone more invested in their own life? Tristian was just trying to help right? He wasn't pushing too hard, at least, not any worse than normal. Yet he seemed to leave Ren so uncomfortable, so maybe it was more than usual. He sighed again, shaking the thoughts out of his head. He'd just have to keep trying. He'd get through.

Instead, he walked among his staff, giving Ren space for the rest of the day, and instead finding out what was going on with his employees the good and the bad, and any complaints they has as well. He spoke with the seamstresses briefly, getting everyone excited to get going. Because even if the stuff that walked down the runway was designed and sewed by him. There was no way he could sew everything he would sell, but he trusted the men and women he'd hired, and they'd certainly proved themselves over. So he was excited to start getting all the sewing machines cranked up again with the beginning of a new line.

Either way, the rest of the afternoon passed relatively easy for Tristian, people leaving as they wanted, everyone fed and happy, or at least he hoped so. And before too long everyone but Annette had filtered out of the place. He hadn't seen Ren leave, but he had missed a lot of people leaving, so he figured it was okay. Annette was puttering around cleaning and Tristian walked back into his design room, returning back to some of his newer designs that probably wouldn't be ready in time for the new show, but he always had new designs that he was sketching up, some which never really saw the light of day. He'd even started working on broadening out into women's clothing, something he'd wanted to do for years, but never really had any inspiration for until recently.

He guessed the day could be counted as a success, though it didn't really feel that way, not that he could determine why the whole situation with Ren was upsetting him so much. Maybe, he was just having an off day. Or maybe witnessing Ren earlier in the day had worked him up enough to make him more sensitive to everything else. Either way, at least, everyone was on the same page and prepared for the move towards the show, whose deadline was approaching faster and faster.

Ren stayed at the meeting for a while, perhaps waiting for something to happen that never did. He expected that though. Only a couple people talked to him, most just introducing themselves and chatting, but wandering off when he didn't pay attention to them. Some, he didn't even realize spoke to him, so intent was his state of waiting. But nothing happened and he disappeared out the door, unnoticed. He should be used to this by now.

For the next couple weeks, Ren kept in contact with Tristian, just updating small things and sharing information about work. They didn't chat much in their calls and texts, but at the time dragged by, so did Ren's mood. He responded less quickly to messages until he finally decided not to answer a call at all. Even though he needed to go to the studio on Monday, he couldn't much work up the desire for it. Just why did it turn out this way?

In reality, Ren already knew the answer to that question. The more time he spent alone, the more he realized he wanted to talk to the other man even if he could never bring himself to initiate such a thing. But Tristian stopped bothering him. Why did he do that? Laying on his couch with the dawn rays creeping through the wall of windows, he found he couldn't sleep. He even tried to cruise his usual clubs, but even a glance at those people did nothing for him. Why? Why did his old bandaid not work? Tristian's disapproving, sad look flashed in his mind. It wasn't like he wanted more.

Eight o'clock--the time of their meeting--came and went. Ren stared at his grey carpets, now marred with clothes and blankets left about in random places, signaling more time spent here than in his bedroom. And he just couldn't bring himself to move.

The next several weeks passed in a flurry of sewing, sewing and more sewing for Tristian. He slept decently maybe every third night, and spent way more hours at his studio than in his apartment. As such, he'd pretty much backed off all communication outside of what was necessary for business with Ren, and maybe a little out of worry too. It hadn't been necessary for Ren to come into the studio much in the interval as Tristian was putting together pieces that he could later size to his models, using their measurements as a base.

However, the work he needed to do was steadily winding down to a point where he needed to start meeting with his models, so he took a couple days off, to sleep and recuperate from having worked so hard, mostly at Annette's insistent, but knowing that it was probably for the best anyway. Then he started setting up meetings with the models, both solo and in pairs to come in for fittings. He'd already met with a couple, but Ren's appointment time came and passed, and leaving Tristian annoyed, but also concerned. Maybe something horrible had happened that'd kept the model from calling to cancel or showing up.

When a phone call yielded no response, Tristian felt tension begin to feel his body, more than willing to give Tristian the benefit of the doubt and thus very worried his model may have been injured or ill and not that he'd just deliberately not showed up for a fitting. Growing more worked as more time passed, Tristian finally just snapped, having to go joke on the model. He found his address among the documents for his employment and then grabbing his phone and wallet, headed down to hail a cab to the exact location.

As the drive passed, Tristian imagined increasingly worrying scenarios, afraid that whatever had befallen the other may have not even happened at his apartment in the first place and he'd just find an empty apartment. Pretty soon, he arrived at the outside of an astonishingly nice apartment complex. Honestly, he was a little jealous. He was an up and coming designer, and even he couldn't dream of a place like this. How the hell could one of his models? It was just a short trip up the elevator and then he was rapping on Ren's door with a sense of urgency filling him.

(apartment interior approx)

Ren heard a knock through a fuzz in his head. It took him seconds to focus, understanding what that noise actually was. As soon as he did, he turned his head away from the morning light, back into the blackness of his couch. "Go away!" he snapped, or croaked really. He hadn't used his voice much in days and it showed. Just who would knock on his door though? Even if he needed to do a fitting for Tristian, he expected nothing. Certainly not for the man to show up here. His phone lay under the couch now, probably on silent, so he couldn't tell how the other man tried to call him and he didn't much care. He had no intention of getting up to answer the door. If someone really wanted in, the door was unlocked.

The muffled response from within pretty much led to Tristian banging harder on the door. At least now he knew Ren wasn't dead, but maybe he was still injured or sick and worry still pressed urgently at his throat, making his whole body tight. When several long seconds passed with no other response from within the apartment, Tristian groaned in frustration, resting his head against the door to figure out what to do. He knocked a couple more times, and when there was no response, he went for the door knob, and was surprised to find the door swinging open easily to reveal what was perhaps one of the swankiest apartments he'd ever seen, even if it was currently messy.

"Ren?!" he called out, his voice entirely filled with concern and no anger filling his voice whatsoever. He just wanted to know the other was okay. He glanced around the room, finally spotting Ren on the couch and moved over towards him. "Are you okay?" he asked, noting that Ren definitely looked warn down, but at first glimpse mostly okay.

The door opened. It actually opened. At first, Ren couldn't tell if he dreamed or if Tristian just walked into his apartment. He shifted slightly, blinking at the other man without comprehension. He looked too real though and Ren whined in the back of his throat before half pulling himself up. Why did it have to be Tristian who came knocking? He dragged a hand through his hair, still looking out of place.

"Why did you come over 'ere? I ignored your calls, you know." Not that Tristian made it easy. But that wasn't it. That wasn't what he wanted to say. He felt happy, but still terrified that someone came looking for him.

"Because I was worried you had died or something, idiot!" Tristian exclaimed, having properly worked himself up by this point, though the more he looked at the other, the more he looked mostly fine, maybe not emotionally fine, but health wise for sure. "I didn't know if you'd like gotten hit by a car or something on the way over. You didn't call, and I kinda freaked." he smiled a little sheepishly at this, "I just, I had to make sure you were okay, and when you didn't answer the phone, I just, well I rushed over here, probably like an idiot, but well, you're not hurt. But that does leave the question of why you didn't show up?"

For a second, Ren looked almost flustered. Died? His hands tangled in his hair and he ducked his eyes to concentrate on detangling them. He'd clearly not brushed his hair in a couple days, but from the start he put little effort into his appearance. Sitting with one leg on the couch and the other on the floor, he gave Tristian a confused look. "I just didn't feel like it. Didn't think you would bother anyway." And the fact that Tristian had very much made him feel a little ashamed of his pettiness. No one was supposed to worry about him.

Tristian gaped at Ren, literally had nothing he said really filtered through his skull. Or maybe he just didn't believe Tristian for face value, given how many people in the industry were fake. Maybe he just hadn't met too many people who legitimately cared. Or maybe, Ren just really couldn't stand someone so invasive and was just lying or something. He didn't know what to think, so instead he changed the subject, "This place you live in is ridiculous though. And you're new to modeling? Like shit, this is the type of place top stars in the industry live in only after like years and years in the business. Like, I'm jealous that view is killer" He nodded, "Seriously, who'd you have to kill to get this place?" he teased.

Ren's eyes drifted to the view without really taking it in. It should look beautiful right? That's what everyone thought and yet, he saw nothing. "I hate it," he said flat out. "I hate this empty place. Not like I ever asked for it." He pushed himself up from the couch to wander toward his bedroom and away from the view that so drew Tristian's attention. He grabbed a clean shirt and changed into it, a wry smile crossing his face when he turned his back. "My parents bought it."

"Ummmm..." Tristian said, not really sure what to respond. In a way, it was probably the most Ren had revealed to him in one go without some serious prodding. The words were simple but they certainly implied a lot. First, that his parents were wealthy; second, they probably meant more time buying their son's love than actually love him, though that was just a guess. Third, and probably most important, Ren didn't have a good relationship with his parents at all, no matter what they did. If it was a lack of love, well, that was just depressing wasn't it? Tristian's mom had always been on his side, drying his tears, loving him for who he was and helping him through everything. At least, before her death, she'd love him unconditionally in so many ways that he couldn't imagine not having that with a parent. "I'm sorry for complimenting it then?" he said, "I mean, it's pretty, but if you hate it then that really means nothing. Why live here then? You surely make enough to pay for a place of your own. Somewhere you could feel proud to call home?" Tristian asked tilting his head, eyes curious and soft.

Ren stayed in the bedroom doorway, leaning with his arms crossed. "S'okay. Everyone compliments it." Maybe that was why he never brought anyone back here even though this was the one place he wanted to feel less empty. Most people would feel worried to bet robbed or taken advantage of, inviting a stranger into a home like this, but he didn't for his own reasons. Nothing could ever be as simple as he wanted it. He shrugged one shoulder.

"I don't know where else I would go. Since they bought it...I don't know." He couldn't finish the thought. "Doesn't matter though. I'm fine if you want to do the fitting now." Maybe he just wanted to get out now, or maybe he did feel better. But Tristian came didn't he, so Ren had to go with him. Besides, he couldn't think about that question right now. Even if he hated here, he couldn't leave either. Maybe he was just too used to it--the money and the spoiled things he couldn't imagine a life without. Or maybe, like the words he couldn't complete earlier, he couldn't leave because his parents bought this in the first place.

Tristian blinked surprised, to be honest, he'd completely forgotten about the fitting. The moment he started worrying about Ren, the whole purpose of both of their jobs became secondary. Maybe that should be a little bit scary, but Tristian honestly didn't care. He didn't like knowing the people around him were hurting. And he didn't really want to force anyone into anything.

"I mean, we really don't have to do it now." he murmured, "I'm just glad you're okay. I should probably be angry you decided to just no-show on me, but everyone has off-days. It's not a matter of complete urgency if it doesn't get done to day," Though Tristian may lose a bit more sleep if he did postpone the fitting, "It can wait. I seriously meant the whole thing about not forcing you into anything uncomfortable. That includes allowing for off-days."

Ren crossed his arms a little tighter, the gesture no longer casual. His eyes darted over Tristian's face before dropping again to somewhere around his ankles. "Said it's fine. You need it right?" How could he say he wanted to leave his apartment now, as much as he wanted to stay in before? He knew this feeling well; it normally drove him out in the middle of the night to places his personality didn't suit. For some reason, those honest words wouldn't come out though. "Really, I don't mind now."

"I..um.. yeah... sure let's go.." Tristian said, completely aware of how utterly awkward he sounded. Seriously, what was this? How did Ren manage to so completely catch him off guard? Tristian never got flustered, or well, at least not over things like this. It was usually over something embarrassing he did, not anything else. Maybe, he'd just never really expected Ren to share anything ever. He didn't know, but he did know he felt awkward in his skin, feeling to big for his body or something, and he wasn't sure he liked that feeling. "But yeah, come on, let's go to my studio, it shouldn't take to long." he said, trying to sound more confident, before leading the way out of the apartment.

Ren hummed in response and followed after a second, kicking on his shoes and running a hand through his hair again. Even that much returned some of his normal appearance so he didn't look like someone who just moped on his couch for days. But he had and the memory still sat in the back of his mind, if pushed away now. He still felt itchy somewhere under his skin. Each second of the trip to Tristian's studio cured it though and by the time they arrived, he felt like his usual self. With only a couple words, he got changed for the fitting and they started.

Tristian fell into the routine of fitting, circling around Ren as he pinned things to fit the model perfectly. As he did so, he felt himself settling in his body, whatever awkwardness from before slowly leaving him. As he relaxed, mindless chatter started falling from his mouth again. "You know, I really don't understand you. Like, I may have said this before, but you are a complete mystery to me in a way that people normally aren't. I can't even put you into a category of how I normal understand people. You're something all your own. Which you know may be good, being unique and all that, but it sure does make relating to you hard." he said, whatever words that flew into his mind, also flying out of his mouth, with no real consideration to filtering them.