Chapter Text
Seokjin can’t tell if he actually blacks out for a few moments, or if his memory simply refuses to retain what follows. He vaguely registers a pale face with a mortified expression and a flash of white as the girl gathers up her skirts and bolts for the tall doors.
...Next thing he knows, he’s sitting on a bench slightly to the side of the altar between Hoseok who’s gingerly pressing an ice pack to his cheekbone and a silently fuming Namjoon.
In front of him there is a tiny frazzled man in a suit, currently sprawled out on the floor, bowing so low Seokjin is pretty sure his pretty ash-blonde bangs are sweeping the carpet. He supposes the excessive bowing is supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t.
“We are so sorry, SO SORRY, you cannot imagine just HOW SORRY we are—” the man keeps repeating in a pained tone, and that makes it even worse. Seokjin wishes he could just wave his hand and laugh it off, say it’s not a big deal, but unfortunately it kind of is. It’s not just that Seokjin is not a fan of being punched in the money-maker, or physically assaulted in general, he really wishes it was just that.
Sadly, incidents in the workplace such as this one make for highly flammable rumor fodder. As soon as word gets out, gross gossip magazines and websites will surely eat this shit up. No actor with a smidge of integrity wants to deal with that kind of crap.
So, as much as it pains him, Seokjin keeps his mouth shut and nods along carefully as Namjoon scolds this man, who has no other choice but to take it, slowly shrinking into himself like a child who’d failed an important test at school.
“...so unprofessional, you must realize how this entire situation makes all of us — and not just you — look in the eye of the public.” Namjoon is ruthless. If the expression “to stare daggers” was a little more literal, the man cowering in front of them would be bleeding out onto the carpet. “We agreed to work alongside your protege despite her lack of any substantial experience. Who knew it came with violent tendencies as an added bonus…”
“I absolutely, one hundred percent agree with you!” The man cuts in. “You have every right to be angry, just… please, let me explain, please, just don’t sue us…” His voice becomes suspiciously wobbly. Seokjin takes a closer look at his form, curled up on the floor and shaking ever so slightly and holy fuck, is he crying?!
Shit dicks.
Seokjin just got very publicly punched in the face and now they’ve made a grown man cry. This day just keeps getting better and better.
He kinda wants to curl up on the floor next to this small man and cry for a bit himself, but he doesn’t. He takes the ice pack from Hoseok and, carefully holding it to his own face, turns to look at Namjoon, who stares back looking equally alarmed. Fortunately, Namjoon seems to get his telepathic transmission, because he rolls his eyes and slides off the bench.
“Okay, hey, let’s all take a breather and calm down for a sec, alright? Nobody is suing anybody.” Namjoon crouches next to the man who’s full-on sobbing now. Namjoon throws a desperate glance up at Seokjin, but is met with a clear you did this — you deal with it expression. He sighs and reaches out to pat the man’s back. It’s so awkward it hurts to watch. Seokjin takes pity on him and gestures for him to get the man to sit next to him on the bench.
It takes a few minutes of gentle coaxing, but they finally manage to peel the man from the floor and get him into a sitting position. Hoseok dashes away and returns with a stack of tissues he quickly hands over and the man starts dabbing at his face, still sniffling.
Sitting this close, Seokjin can see how insanely young he is. Insanely young and stupidly cute — even while being all red and splotchy from the crying. Seokjin can tell that Namjoon must make similar observations, judging by his lost expression and the faintest hint of pink coloring the tips of his ears.
Seokjin pats the man’s knee placatingly.
“Namjoonie is right, we all need to calm down. Yes, the situation is kinda serious and he’s made some valid points—” the young man looks like he’s about to burst into tears again, so Seokjin rushes to add, “BUT it’s not that big of a deal, really. Definitely not lawsuit-worthy.” The young man shoots him a quick hesitant glance and Seokjin feels encouraged by it. “No serious damage was done, besides maybe to my ego, and trust me, Namjoonie will be the first to tell you that it could use being knocked down a peg or two.”
The man giggles. It’s weak and barely audible, but Seokjin still feels as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Dealing with this sort of drama was so exhausting, he could feel wrinkles forming on his face as they spoke. He smiles tiredly.
“That’s better. Let’s all chill for a moment now, and start from the top. I’m Kim Seokjin, and I’d love to say that it’s nice to meet you, however, my dear Mother taught me that lying is bad, I’m sure you understand.”
The young man smiles guiltily, but still, a smile is a smile, so Seokjin considers it a win. He glances over at Namjoon, who rushes to introduce himself.
“Kim Namjoon, and no, we are not related, but I am his manager as well as certified best friend, so I’m sure you’ll understand when I say that his career and personal well-being are my top priority — yes, in that order, don’t you roll your eyes at me, Seokjin, I swear to god.” Namjoon pauses to level Seokjin with an unimpressed glare and continues. “I feel like I need to apologize for my unnecessarily harsh tone earlier, but I still stand by every point I’ve made. Your protege has landed us all in a pretty sticky situation, and we all need to think rationally and work together if we want to get out of it unscathed.” He exchanges another glance with Seokjin, who nods with a small smile.
The man looks up at them and sighs. He’s mostly calmed down now and only sniffles quietly every now and then. “Like I already said, you’re absolutely right. I truly wish we were meeting in more pleasant circumstances, but what can you do. I’m already grateful that you agreed to have a conversation instead of just punching me as payback, with a rolled up lawsuit form in your fist.” Seokjin wants to argue that that would just warrant a counter-claim, but he lets the man continue. “Oh, right, my name is Park Jimin, I’m the “manager and certified best friend” of Min Yoonji.”
“YOONJI!” Suddenly Hoseok’s voice bellows behind Seokjin’s back. “I knew I remembered her name right!” It’s such an unexpected and shrill sound that Seokjin, who’d completely forgotten that Hoseok was still hanging around, lets out a loud yelp and falls off the bench.
Three pairs of eyes stare down at him in varying degrees of shock (two of them — mixed with disbelief; Namjoon just slightly bothered — he's seen him do worse), but a moment later they’re all laughing, and the ice of painful awkwardness finally starts showing cracks.
Hoseok offers Seokjin a hand, but he waves it away and crosses his legs, remaining seated on the floor. Namjoon shakes his head but says nothing, used to his antics.
“Hobi-yah, can you do me a favor? Can you run by the catering team and get me some fresh ice? I think this is all melted now.” Seokjin hands Hoseok his ice pack, which at this point is basically a sack of cool water.
Hoseok catches Seokjin’s glance and nods, taking the hint. He takes the pack, gives Jimin an encouraging smack on the back and walks off. Seokjin feels gratitude as he watches him walk away. He appreciates smart people. He’ll be sure to get Namjoon to track him down and get his number. Friends like that are worth keeping.
And some things should be discussed in smaller crowds.
Seokjin raises a hand and gently prods at the sensitive spot on his cheekbone with his fingertips because he can’t help himself. He looks up at Park Jimin from his spot on the floor.
“So, tell me about Min Yoonji.”