hair dye
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A warm glow of soft yellow lights washed over a short boy who appeared to be around 20 as he stood, bent over, in the corner of his shop. He had just put the cord of the lights in the outlet that had, for seemingly no reason, reason fallen out moments ago, giving life to the otherwise dull bulbs. Atop this boy's head was a mess of dusty pink hair, although it was faded and looked as if it needed to be redone. This boy was the owner of a small, locally owned bookstore on a semi-busy street in downtown Seoul. Through the large front windows of the petite bookstore, an old vintage apartment building, just across the street, was visible. The boy, however, lived in an apartment above his store, as it had come with the storefront when he had rented it.

Looking out the windows at the front of his shop, the boy's eyes trailed down the string of fairy lights that were strung everywhere in the store. Seeing his reflection in the window, he realized that his nametag was crooked. He quickly adjusted it, reading his own name silently in his head as he did so.

'Jimin.'

The boy called Jimin smiled to himself, proud of the small but important things he had acomplished in the past few years. He had worked intently on lessening his anxiety, although he did still have attacks every so often. But, when he did, the pink-haired boy just engulfed himself in the calming flickering of the yellow lights and he would calm down. It was something his therapist back in Busan had recommended, having something he could always rely on. Having a little bookstore all to himself helped with his anxiety, too. He had something to be completely in charge of, something in his life he could control. Even though Jimin had no say in what went on outside the doors of his small shop, he found great comfort in knowing he could control everything that went on inside of it.

Jimin loved the lights. He loved the glow, he loved the calming flickering, and he loved the idea of having something to always rely on, something that wouldn't go away, and something he was in charge of. He loved the way that he could look down at his skin and see a fuzzy reflection of the flickering golden bulbs; he found it to be absolutely mesmerizing. The customers always just assumed they were a decoration, to make his small bookstore cuter, but they were so much more to the young owner of the shop. To Jimin, they were everything.

The boy's small train of thoughts was interrupted by the chiming of the small golden bells hung on the shop's door. Jimin, out of habit, put a big smile on his face, bringing his attention to the boy who just walked in. Recognizing him as one of his only friends, Jimin smiled, a real smile this time, and walked out from behind the counter to greet the smiling brunette.

"Jeongguk! How was your day?" Jimin said softly to the boy in front of him, his eyes filling with care and sympathy for his best friend. The brunette by the name of Jeongguk laughed, grinning at Jimin.

"Hyung, I was at the mall today buying some clothes and I saw this really cute cashier at a coffee place, his name was Taehyung and he was so cute! I ordered a caramel macchiato and—guess what— he put his number on the side! Look, Hyung!" Jungkook said this all too excitedly his words barely separated, shoving a cardboard coffee cup in his friend's face, revealing the number written messily in Sharpie on the side of it.

Jimin laughed softly, "Jeongguk, that's great. I really hope you guys become friends. I close shop in a few minutes— at 5. Is it alright if you wait here and then we can go somewhere?" Jimin said, a shy smile on his face. Jungkook eagerly nodded, bouncing over to sit at one of the small wooden tables Jimin had set up inside the store. The pink-haired boy walked back behind the counter, pulling out a book and cracking it open for probably the fifth time. It was his favorite book, for good reason: it was about two boys who both pushed the whole world away when the only thing they needed to accept was each other. The ending always made Jimin smile, as the two boys ended up happily together.

Looking at the time, Jimin realized he could close his store. He dog-eared the page (something quite controversial for no reason, Jimin thought) and smiled to himself as he softly trotted out from behind the counter after putting his book down, pushing his oversized glasses farther up his nose and running his hand through his hair. He flipped the wooden sign in the window over so that it read "closed" to the outside world, and motioned to Jeongguk to follow him outside. The very last thing he did every day was gently pull out the plug on the fairy lights, turning the shop into a dark—and no longer friendly—abyss, but this time he decided to leave them on as he exited with his friend. He was only going to be gone a short while, so he decided to leave the door unlocked too.

"So, Jeongguk, what's this Taehyung guy like?" The words escaped Jimin's mouth, his mind wondering elsewhere while his brunette friend began excitedly ranting about how amazing the boy he had just met was. Jimin smiled at his friend every once in a while and nodded, even though his attention was on his own mind, traveling through his thoughts. Jimin shrugged it off, focusing his eyes and ears back on Jeongguk.

"Ahh, he's got the softest looking hair, Hyung, and I could get lost in his eyes for hours. OH! He has this cute little mole on his nose that makes my heart melt. His smile is amazing, too. Hyung, he's perfect." Jimin laughed, joyful at the innocence of the younger boy, happy that he could still love without being terrified someone would break his heart.

"He sounds wonderful, Jeongguk. You said he gave you his number, have you even texted him yet?" At that, the brunette's face flushed.

Jeongguk stuttered, "No, I forgot- I'll do that right now, wait for me." So the two stopped on the sidewalk, Jeongguk pulling out his phone and carefully entering the number on the side of his coffee cup. Smiling softly to himself, Jimin ran his hand through his dusty pink hair, glancing up at the sky and sighing. After Jeongguk was done sending a text message, he looked back up at his best friend, a dopey smile on his face.

"God, you're an idiot, Jeongguk." Jimin said, lightly laughing at his friends excitement. "I hope you two get together and end up being together a long time." This caused the brunette to smile, a light pink blush dusting across his cheeks at the thought of being together with Taehyung.

When the two best friends came to a small gas station, they stopped, deciding to go inside. They had walked only a few blocks, and Jimin often came here to get his groceries since he didn't have a car— or a place to put one. When they walked in, Jimin watched, amused, as Jeongguk immediately walked over to the snack section and pulled out his phone, calling who the pink-haired boy assumed to be Taehyung. Jimin himself trotted over to the fountain drinks counter, pulling out a 16oz cup from the self-serve shelf.

He hummed to himself as he filled it with pink lemonade, his favorite sweet drink, and began sipping. He'd pay later when Jeongguk was finished. Pink lemonade was actually the reason that Jimin had dyed his hair pink: he really loved the drink, not to mention the color, so he had decided to try something new. Jimin had loved the way it looked for the first month or so, but then it began fading. Now, his brown roots were showing and the pink was almost faded completely. It looked kind of grungy, in his opinion, and he didn't like it one bit.

While his hair was on his mind, Jimin's scanning eyes spotted a small, seemingly closed off area in the back of the store. It appeared to be dedicated to hair products and stuff like that. Surprised he had never noticed it before, the boy walked over, dipping his head into the section to be met with an empty aisle. Jimin grinned to himself, quickly grabbing two boxes of dye that were close to his natural color. Then, happy that he had gotten what he had wanted, he ran over to meet up with Jeongguk again.

"When I get home, I'm re-dying and cutting my hair, it looks awful right now," Jimin spoke excitedly to his best friend, and the brunette smiled at him, lifting his hand to his natural, untouched hair. The pink-haired boy was right, in Jeongguk's opinion, the color and style didn't fit his personality at all. Jimin had a more secluded and quiet personality, whereas his hair spoke for itself, giving the impression he was buoyant, or more of the out-there type. Pushing his glasses up his nose, Jimin walked to the counter next to Jeongguk, and the two checked out and left.

Once they had nearly arrived back, Jimin noticed something peculiar in the entrance to his shop. The "closed" sign was no longer in the window, appearing to have fallen down inside the building. Now, this wouldn't have sparked his interest had there not have been a dull flash of movement inside the warmly lit shop. Jimin couldn't tell what it was from the outside, as the windows were tinted to keep the sun off of the books' pages. The pink-haired boy remembered having left the door unlocked, as he knew he'd return quickly, and he suddenly became frightened.

'What if someone tried to rob my store? What if someone's in there right now? What if-'

Jimin's swiftly declining train of thoughts was interrupted by someone loudly clearing their throat. Jimin looked up to see a jokingly annoyed Jeongguk with his hands on his hips glaring at him.

"What? Sorry, Jeongguk. I wasn't paying attention.." Jimin stuttered, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the nape of his neck.

"I said I'll be leaving now, Hyung. I'll talk to you later~ I have errands to run before the weekend. Bye!" Jeongguk, unable to keep a facade of anger, smiled and waved at Jimin before running off in the direction of his apartment building a few blocks down.

After his friend had left, Jimin turned back to his store, a sense of nervousness again overtaking him. He could feel it coming on, another anxiety attack. All he had to do was open the door and look at the lights, and he'd be okay. Just open the door and look at the lights.

Jimin stopped himself from thinking. Clearing his mind and closing his eyes, he opened the door and stepped inside immediately. No sooner did he do this than he felt the lights turn off. He could feel the moment their warm, nostalgic glow stopped illuminating his home, and a wave of fear rushed over him. Jimin was terrified to open his eyes. He was scared to face what might be in the dark.

But he opened them.

No sooner did he open his eyes than did he feel the anxiety coming on. Without the consistent glow of light, Jimin was nothing. The little field of vision that he had in the already darkened store began shrinking as thoughts flooded his mind. It was as if a dam protecting his sanity made out of the small fairy lights had been smashed into pieces, as if the wires had been ripped apart. Before the pink-haired boy kneeled down to steady himself, he looked up to see a stony-faced boy with crossed arms standing silently next to the power outlet, watching Jimin intently.

The stranger was the least of Jimin's concerns, however. As of that moment, he was trying not to have a full-on anxiety attack. His vision was completely black at this point; his body was trying to pass out. Jimin lifted his shaking hands up to his face, feeling the warmth and wetness of his own salty tears on his cheeks. He hadn't even realized he had been crying, but he didn't care. All Jimin was trying to do was keep the bad thoughts out of his head.

"Please... Turn the lights back on!" Jimin stuttered, struggling to speak through his sobs as he attempted to look up at the raven-haired stranger. The boy's face still showed no emotion, it was blank, and he looked at Jimin's pitiful form on the floor through half-lidded, seemingly uncaring eyes. The pinkette on the floor saw the stranger shrug, and watched as he lazily dragged the cord to the outlet to plug the lights back in. When the familiar warmth of the lights washed over him, Jimin immediately turned his face upward, embracing the warmth of the reliable yellow glow.

After minutes of just looking at the lights and calming himself down by feeling their glow on his body, Jimin glanced up to see the stranger still looking at him intently; it felt almost as if he was being studied. Jimin decided to try and stand up, which he succeeded despite his dizziness, and walked over to the raven-haired boy, both of them staying silent. When he reached the strange boy, Jimin just looked up at him, tears still in his eyes.

Jimin frowned, upset yet also thankful to the boy for giving his lights life again, despite the fact that he had been the one to take it away. The pink haired boy smiled a broken smile at the slightly taller stranger, and paused before hesitantly wrapping his arms around the stranger's waist. Jimin may not have known him but sometimes he just needed a hug, and this stranger was a great way to get one in this situation. Jimin didn't allow himself many things, as he was afraid of getting broken again, but a hug was not one of those. No, a hug had no meaning to the boy other than just a comforting touch. Just because he promised himself he'd never love again didn't mean he couldn't share a moment of comforting skinship with the stranger.

The funny thing was, however, the raven-haired boy didn't hug back, he just kept his stony expression plastered onto his attractive features, and kept his body stiff. When Jimin realized that the boy wasn't going to return this act, he pulled away, looking up at the boy with slight fear and regret in his expressive eyes.

"Ahh, I'm sorry... I didn't realize-" Jimin's flustered and stuttering apology was cut off by the deep yet somehow comforting voice of the black-haired stranger.

"It's fine. Just, turn those damn lights off every once in a while, okay?" He said coolly, shoving past the pink-haired boy and making his way to the door, his half-lidded eyes not looking back as he spoke again, this time his voice somewhat softer.

"Oh, and you can call me Yoongi."

With that, the boy left Jimin's store, leaving behind a confused and slightly angry pinkette and two boxes of brown hair dye that had fallen, nearly forgotten in the moment, to the wooden floor.

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word count | 2618
edited on 19.06.19