Chapter Text
The first thing Namjoon did upon arriving at his brand new job was trip over his own feet, and the most handsome man in the world laughed at him as he picked himself and his backpack up off the ground. So he's seriously reconsidering his life choices as he queues for his staff ID and key card amongst dozens of other summer staff.
He'd read that working on a cruise ship was a good way to save money, since room and board are covered and there's not much to spend money on. Especially if you can land one of the jobs that attracts tips. He didn't think he'd make a good waiter (clumsy) or performer (unless they're desperate for philosophical spoken word acts). But he did think he could be a tour coordinator: research, organise, shepherd, explain. All verbs he's very comfortable with. Plus it means he'll get to visit some historical sites and museums around Korea and Japan.
That's assuming he doesn't die of embarrassment, or trip over a rail and drown in the ocean.
He deliberately does not join the same queue as Mr Handsome, and instead ends up in a queue alongside a shorter guy with a small carry-on and a guitar case. The guy is wearing a beanie and a facemask, so most of what's visible of him is a pair of dark, catlike eyes, which Namjoon accidentally meets as he joins him in the queue.
"Hi," says Namjoon, figuring he should try to get to know some of his hundreds of colleagues.
The guy blinks at him, and nods.
"Are you a performer on board?" Namjoon perseveres, nodding at the guitar.
"No."
With how things are going so far, maybe tripping over a rail and drowning in the ocean would actually be the best outcome, Namjoon muses.
"I'm learning," the guy continues, apparently taking pity. "I asked if I could bring it so I can practise when I'm off-shift."
"That's really cool," Namjoon says, relieved. "I hope you get lots of time to practise."
"Mmh, probably not much," the guy says with a lopsided shrug. "I'm planning to volunteer for as many extra shifts as I can get. Wanna save money."
"Yeah, me too!"
The guy's name is Yoongi, Namjoon learns as they slowly shuffle forward in the queue. He's a year older than Namjoon. It's his first time working on a cruise ship, but he was a passenger on one once as a child with his parents. He'll be a bartender on board.
"Hoping for decent tips," he says.
Privately, Namjoon wonders if this quiet, deadpan guy has much chance. He read that you need to be outgoing and friendly to score a lot of tips, and that being attractive is a bonus. Namjoon has prepared a set of strategies for eliciting good tips on his tours. Maybe Yoongi has a similar plan.
They reach the top of the queue. Namjoon shows his documents and signs for his card; it's his key card and his staff ID, and he has to swipe it to open his cabin or any of the staff access doors, and also to clock on and off his shifts, and to get his meals. They also give him his nametag, shiny golden embossed with Tour Guide Kim Nam Joon, and tell him it's a mandatory part of his uniform. The rest of his uniform is in his cabin.
Namjoon loiters to wait as Yoongi goes through the same process. Yoongi has to take his mask off for them to verify his identity and Namjoon's eyebrows rise. Maybe Yoongi doesn't need to worry himself trying to be particularly friendly, actually. Namjoon would certainly tip him.
Yoongi picks up his own card and badge, and rejoins Namjoon.
"It's bullshit," he says, almost under his breath, as they head out of the building and join the next queue, to board a shuttle bus.
"Hm?"
Yoongi waves the key card.
"They said this is so convenient, it's my ID, my staff access, my clocking card, my meal voucher, and my cabin key, all in one," he says. "It's a fucking tracking device is what it is. Surveillance capitalism. Management gets to know where I am, when I'm in my cabin, even what I'm eating, it's-- Why the fuck are you smiling?"
"The card thing, you're absolutely right," Namjoon answers. "But I'm smiling cause I just made a friend."