Work Text:
jungkook wakes with a jolt, and immediately, it feels like there're a thousand tiny hands pushing down on his head and shoulders. he wills his eyes to stay open, blurrily refocusing on the clock on the front desk, its spindly hands so close to 6 o' clock, but not quite. the air is musty and stagnant in the bike shop he works in, and jungkook coughs to get it out of his system. he looks around, seeing that his older colleagues and boss have adjourned to the back room to discuss whatever it is that adult men do. He shakes his head to regain his bearings and clear the front desk and oh - it’s reasonably time to leave the workday behind.
the evening sunset brings a breeze with it that cools the perspiration matting jungkook’s hair to his neck, as he pulls down the shutters with a resounding krrrrraaaaaang. he removes the snapback his hair lives in, ruffles his hair with his fingers and plonks the snapback on his head. he decides to take the long way because heck, why not. he was trying to stay away from home for as long as possible, since every time he tried to hold a decent, painless conversation at the dinner table, it always ended in disagreement, yelling and tears that jungkook would furiously refuse to let fall. there wasn't a reason for him to be at home this early and bear the brunt of his father's moods and his mother's habit of telling him things he already knew.
as jungkook walks through a different path home, the evening sunset beats down lightly on his back, almost like the caress of his mother’s hands when he couldn’t sleep, and as jungkook cricks his neck and back he suddenly fees thankful that he is alive and able to be experiencing all this, no matter how perfunctory or mundane it might seem. he strolls past the stores, realising with a twinge of guilt that he’d neglected this part of town for years. as a child he would walk down this street, swinging from his parents' hands like a chimpanzee, all giddy smiles and hopeful, blissful babbling about how he’d grow up, study hard and earn a lot so he could buy mummy and daddy a big house. all those dreams had evaporated since, leaving remnants of jungkook's illusions and the bliss of his childhood in their wake. now jungkook was seventeen, tamping down the butterflies that were his ambitions and keeping them locked in the cage that was his heart.
he's always loved to sing, humming under his breath while he totals up invoices and closes up the register in the evenings. it's a closeted dream, one that he's too afraid to verbalize to his parents. so he goes through life, without really living it. he scrapes through his final year of high school, sick and tired of the burdens and studying for a piece of paper that he knows will not amount to or be anywhere close to the stepping stones he wants to take. he plods through life, feeling like he has so much more to offer, but the box he's shut in doesn't let him.
feeling a shiver that had nothing to do with the weather, jungkook stuffs his hands into his hoodie pockets and walks on, his feet taking him past every store that had been born out of the renovation of the neighbourhood. in the time that he hasn't been here, they've opened up a few food stalls, and a few clothing stores. where there were benches and foot-reflexology stations, there were pop-up stores advertising everything from coconut-flavoured icecream to trinkets in the shapes of peanut-shaped cats from Japan and hand-painted fans which cost twice as much as their peers in the glitzy streets of myeongdong. the sky smiles down on the neighbourhood in its shades of pink, purple and turquoise, casting the quaint streets and lampposts in its ethereal, technicolour glow.
jungkook walks past a brightly coloured store, and stops in his tracks a metre away. something makes his heart beat a little faster as he backtracks and stops right in front of the shop window.
it's a boutique, he realises while distractedly looking around the facade. it's slightly larger than a high-school classroom, with pretty decent displays on the right and left of the storefront that he hadn't really looked at just a minute before. It's the sort of boutique that managed to look high-end, but still regained a unique, down-to-earth charm in order to fit in with the other shops on that lane.
the boutique stocks clothes for young adults, and it looks relatively well-furnished. the display on the right bears the store's name in gold cursive on the glass ('목련'), and behind it is a tidy set-up of butter-yellow and baby-blue boxes in varying sizes, with shoes and necklaces placed on them. the mannequins in the left display, however, had made jungkook do a double take.
in front of him were three mannequins in total, all nearly the same height, outfitted in the nautical-chic theme the boutique was going for that week. as if the two female mannequins didn't exist, jungkook couldn't help getting taken in by the male mannequin, his eyes widening as he stared into the mannequin's face, its glassy brown eyes framed by wispy lashes, like the legs of a dragonfly. it was the type of face he wanted to see alive, in every human manifestation possible.
as jungkook lay on his bed in the dark of night, moonlight filtering into his window and dulling his senses, the boutique and the male mannequin came to his mind. he remembered how the mannequin's adorable hands, its fingers ringed by a black brassy material, had spread out in a wave on either side of its head. its grin had spread from ear to ear. on any other face, it might have looked creepy, but jungkook seemed to think it fit nicely on the mannequin's soft, smiling face. and then the grin on his face that had somehow wormed its way there vanishes just as quickly when he realised he was smiling to himself in the middle of the night, thinking about an inanimate object.
he rolls over, burying his face in his pillow and stifling his groans in it. the lack of sleep was getting to him. or maybe it was the fumes from the paint and turpentine in the bike shop. he should consider bringing a mask to work next time. or maybe he really was losing it.
jungkook flings an arm over his head and falls into intermittent sleep.
__________________________________________________________
jungkook manages to get to the shop a minute before his boss does. he doubles over in exhaustion and sees the vision of his Timberlands swim and replicate. namjoon marches through the entrance and thumps jungkook's back, chuckling as jungkook's knees visibly buckle. "you got away this time, kid," namjoon tosses over his shoulder, striding off to the back.
jungkook plops into his receptionist chair, wiping the sweat that was beading on his forehead and rolling down him in rivulets. he hears the murmurs of his older colleagues, but he just couldn't bring himself to entertain them.
later that day, their lunch breaks are taken up by a group of big biker types. they'd made quite the ruckus outside the shop, driving up to the entrance with their huge motorbikes, revving their engines unnecessarily and roaring at the top of their voices. even the usually-unruffled namjoon had stopped in the middle of his work to check what was going on. it turned out that the entire group wanted new bikes, and if their appearances were anything to go by, they weren't anything close to low-ballers, and namjoon was of course, more than happy to indulge them. as they were short-staffed on that particular day, jungkook had been roped in to help explain and help the men with making their decisions. the thrill of landing a commission stirred something in jungkook's gut, and it's nothing to do with the fried rice that he didn't have. more buyers meant a higher commission, and that meant more savings he can could to his performing-arts-school fund.
it's a small perspex box that's home to many precious notes and a few coins. he'd mentioned it a few times to his mother, who'd merely sneered at it; dream on, boy, you can't even buy a house with that. resigned to the fact that no one was going to help him out, jungkook had shoved his savings out of sight, choosing to be quiet about his dreams and to focus on saving instead. if he was at school, he'd be taking a dollar out of the 10 he got for pocket money everyday and buying bananas from the fruit stall every day, with a side of 80-cent nata de coco jelly to assuage the roiling in his stomach. his circle of friends never picked up on it. even if they did, they knew better than to bug jungkook with their concern or questions.
after the bikers leave, jungkook settles back into his chair, smiling at the smug grins of his co-workers. namjoon was grinning bright enough for the lights to bounce off his teeth, and the glow was back in yoongi's and hoseok's faces.
not long later, jungkook had the niggling feeling that he'd forgotten to do something. he did forget to have lunch, but that was negligible. Ah, he'd forgotten to charge his phone - nope, he turned to look for his phone, which was charging by the side of his desk. he'd forgotten to tell namjoon that he'd have to take a day off next week to settle some school things? he turns to his boss to tell him, and he gets an exasperated "yes kook, you told me this morning already."
as jungkook left the bike shop (namjoon had let him off early), it hit him that he'd forgotten to go down to 목련 during his lunch break. as expected, the boutique was open, but this time, the theme of the displays had changed and the mannequins had changed clothes. jungkook peers at them, stepping quickly under the shade as he feels telltales raindrops on his cheekbones. they've gone for a Hound-of-the-Baskervilles theme, this time? but it's also got a definite Savile Row influence, jungkook thinks, as his eyes are drawn to the male mannequin. he shakes his head, convincing himself that he's trying to pick up style cues. in advance, for the next season. but obviously his eyes rove, and this time he scrutinizes the figure in front of him. the mannequin is standing at a right 45-degree angle, with its hands in its pocket and a doleful expression on its face. it's wearing a navy-blue fedora, a black turtleneck and a pinstriped coat.
jungkook enters the boutique in search of the owner, weaving around the throng of customers. "hello, is anyone there?" he calls out, and a blonde head pokes out of the backroom, before the rest of its owner appears. jungkook blinks at the sprightly, tall lady with a toothy smile and wavy hair falling to below her shoulders.
"hi there!" she speaks and jungkook wonders why her smile seems so familiar.
"hi...you're the owner?" jungkook kicks himself for asking such an obvious question when the lady smiles again.
"yep, what can I help you with?" she says, gesturing around the boutique. jungkook opens his mouth, and then closes it, breathing through his nose, wondering how to speak so he wouldn't come across as patronizing or peculiar.
"I've been in this neighbourhood my whole life, but I only just came across your store a few days ago," he pauses, and the owner nods encouragingly. "I just wanted to say I like your concepts, and the mannequins...they're styled really nicely. i really like the Kingsman look you've gone for, for him." jungkook hopes he wasn't rambling, but the amused smile playing around the woman's lips relaxes him a little.
"i'm byul, by the way," she offers her hand, and jungkook takes it, "j-jungkook."
"well, jungkook-ssi, thanks a lot for your words. i wouldn't really call it anything close to Kingsman, but I guess I can see why you saw the resemblance. i dressed the female mannequins first, and then the male. I know Savile Row is typically - she does air-quotes around the word - "masculine, but I didn't want it to be a dominating influence more than it already is. I feel menswear can do with a little...fluidity, sometimes."
jungkook considers asking her to elaborate, but he settles for smiling at her in reply. and then-
"mmm well, we're closing for a break soon, so anything else you wanna ask?" byul says. jungkook honestly just wanted to hang around the store and look through the clothes, but he felt he'd be overstaying. but something in her words makes him wonder - closing for a break in the middle of the day, right before the evening rush? he asks just as much, and byul's smile falters a little.
"well yeah, it's good to close for a while. keeps the customers anticipating. and I don't like cleaning the store in full view of customers, so..." she trails off, and jungkook gets the message, bowing to her repeatedly and hastening out of the shop, which is by now empty save for the both of them. byul smiles at him apologetically before the shutters swallow her shop up and the blinds go over the displays.
jungkook stands back, a little puzzled by the turn of events. shrugging it off as some sales tactic, he decides to make the most of his time outside by going to the bingsoo shop. he deigns to spend a little of his hard-earned money on a small bowl of Oreo bingsoo, assuring himself that his commission can make up for it. his exhaustion clears when he brings the precious bowl to his two-seater table, and he digs in, the flavours melting on his tongue and sending the warm comfort of cold through his body. when the ice gets on his fingers and palm, he looks at it for a while, before quickly popping his fingers into his mouth and surreptitiously licking his palm.
by the time jungkook's done, it's turned dark, dark enough that he should be heading home soon so that he doesn't arouse suspicion at home. his legs somehow take him to the side of the shop alley that's opposite 목련, and this time, it's open. jungkook stands in the darkness of a provision shop, observing the boutique from afar. nothing seems to have changed, customers are still filtering in and out of the store, and jungkook can see byul occupied with the cashier if he peers hard enough. he doesn't know what he was expecting to find and he starts walking out of his hideaway and brisk-walking home, when something dawns on him too late.
he could've sworn the mannequin was standing 45 degrees to the left, but when he last saw it, it was facing the centre, lips jutting out defiantly. if it could speak, it'd say that it'd rather watch paint dry than stand in a presumably stuffy glass cabinet. also, instead of its middle hair-part, the mannequin's hair had been tousled and lying all over its forehead in messy waves.
two days pass before jungkook can even steal time to visit the boutique. namjoon had kept them all busy till later-than-usual hours, giving them a refresher course himself on bike refurbishment and maintenance. jungkook didn't even register which day was what, falling into bed with his work clothes on. on friday, he runs out of the shop before yoongi can even tell him his jjamppong order, knowing that the older will probably just text him a thousand times in return.
the store is closed. jungkook grinds his jaw, wondering what was the deal with byul for her to close up at odd times of the day. he leans against the tree in the middle of the alley, ignoring his protesting stomach and the relentless pinging of his phone. thankfully, the shutters go up earlier than he expected. he thinks he noticed a flash of movement in the mannequins' display right before the blinds went up, but he attributes that to his hunger making him see things.
byul is surprised, no less, to see jungkook. "oh, jungkook-ssi!" she yelps. jungkook smiles sheepishly and walks forward to greet her. "just wanted to see if you were trying out a new concept today, so I rushed down during my lunch break," he admits, throwing in a grin for good measure.
he spends more time looking around the store, saving items in his memory that he can't buy, and he tells byul this. she smiles emphatically, and pats his arm as if to say, "someday, you'll make it and you can buy anything you want." jungkook hopes to make it.
on his way out, he glances over his shoulder at the mannequins. the females are outfitted in leather skirts, thigh-highs and gold chain-mail necklaces. the male mannequin's wearing a leather jacket, a black muscle tank with gold inscriptions on the front, and ridiculously-tight leather skinnies that hug its thighs to the point that jungkook wants to almost slap a warning on the window. jungkook wants to also slap himself when he catches himself thinking what those thighs would look like in action.
jungkook returns to the store several times after that, and ruminates over couture and street-style fashion with byul, who's as enthusiastic as he is deliberate in his choice of words. the two become fast friends, with jungkook confiding in byul about his worries and opinions. the mannequins are artfully styled each time, and jungkook finds himself gushing over byul's talent, evident especially with the male model. he actually buys a metal-and-leather cuff he'd been eyeing (full price, on his insistence), on one of his visits. it's a rugged, durable-looking accessory that sits nicely on his wrist, neither beleaguering it with its weight nor making him look like a try-hard.
later that week, jungkook gets his pay. stowing the envelope safely in his backpack, he all but skips down to 목련, eager to tell byul and buy her a celebratory dinner from the stalls nearby. his stomach drops when he realises the store is closed yet again. jungkook is thoroughly perturbed at this point. 목련's closing hours are around 9pm, but it's barely 8pm. he nearly dials the store number and realises how stupid it was of him to not even have byul's mobile number. he stares at the shopfront, dumbfounded, and he feels like even the bright street lights are mocking him.
just then, he feels a slight tap on his shoulder, so slight he might have imagined it. he whirls around, and he nearly screams blue murder.
standing behind him, looking just as terrified, is the male mannequin, somehow in the fucking flesh and blood, palms up and outwards in a show of peace.
jungkook's voice is lodged in his throat and his vision is starting to ebb and purple at the edges. it's all starting to feel like a nightmare, because this is beyond anything he could have imagined. his legs are starting to give way underneath him, because how on earth could a mannequin come to life? was this some sort of sick joke, or had someone slipped something in his food causing him to hallucinate?
the mannequin speaks, says his name, and jungkook nearly collapses.
"j-j-jungkook, jungkook-ssi," the mannequin guy whispers, still frozen in his spot. "are you - are you okay? i'm sorry this probably wasn't the best way to do it but i thought i had to do it somehow and just not beat around the bush and i'm so so sorry that i probably scared you to death but i'm not good at these things, it's my first time actually-
"what. the. fuck." naturally, jungkook curses. of course. he thinks it's safe to finally breathe, and he starts, shallowly, as he begins to realise the situation.
the guy continues as if he wasn't just interrupted, albeit rudely. "i guess you now know...i'm not a mannequin after all. i work here, and i'm from out of town. all this while i watched you watching me, i know that sounds weird - and here he scrunches up his nose, and jungkook has to pretend he doesn't register the cute wrinkle at the top of his nose or in the middle of his lips - but you'd always keep coming back to look at the mannequins. at first I thought you were looking at all of us, but then after a while you weren't even looking at the girls, you kept...you kept looking at me." and here the guy falls silent, fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie.
jungkook now finds the guy's pout strikingly familiar, from the day when he hid in the provision shop and literally witnessed the slip-up the guy had made in broad daylight, his appearance and position different from the one he had an hour prior. he peers closer, marvelling at watching the guy's features move and take life; features he had once thought were made of fibreglass and plastic, now with life and blood and a soul in them. his heart begins to beat a frantic tattoo, and he gulps when the guy looks up at him from underneath his eyelashes.
"I...yes well, I just wasn't expecting you to be - to be real," jungkook says. the guy's face lifts into a smile, and jungkook has to blink hard and pinch himself, to tell himself it all wasn't a dream, that the object of his infatuation, that he'd hoped was somehow real, was an actual person, someone he could cherish and protect and be loved in return, and he was real, alive and kicking.
"well I wasn't expecting you to look this cute, without the glass separating us," comes the reply. jungkook lifts an eyebrow at that. smooth, he thinks.
"you know my name now, don't you? i'm guessing byul noona told you," jungkook counters, and the guy nods excitedly, not unlike a beagle.
"so what's yours?"
"I was wondering when you'd ask, jungkook-ssi. I'm jimin, park jimin."