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“Seriously? We’ve been looking at 5 different stores, and you’re telling me that none of them have what you’re looking for?”
You look up at Yoongi from over the sunglasses you put on just after exiting the mall and stepping into the parking lot. He looks pretty ridiculous with his annoyed expression showing through his own sunglasses and his bright blue hair twisting and shifting with the breeze.
“What can I say, I know what I want, and they didn’t have it. Besides, you shouldn’t be complaining, considering that the bags you’re carrying are definitely not mine, fashionista.”
“Pfft, am not!” Yoongi’s offended eyes shift downward, and he mumbled, “My favorite store had their entire stock fifty percent off. How could I turn that down?”
“Yeah, yeah whatever you say,” You exaggerate your eyeroll to make sure he could see it before opening the trunk of his car to unload your own arm of a few shopping bags.
“After you, fashionista.”
“Shut up.” He says, sticking his tongue out at you before unloading his arms of several shopping bags, shutting the trunk, and getting into the driver’s seat. “Okay, anywhere else, your highness?”
“Yes, actually.” You put on your best English accent with the reply. “Take me to the thrift store, so that I may chase my luck and find what I seek.”
“Aish, you’re so annoying. Thrift store it is then, your highness.”
You ruffle his already messy hair. “You love it.”
He doesn’t reply but turns away instead, and you catch the hints of a grin in the window as he turns out of the parking lot.
Yoongi doesn’t stop complaining all the way to the thrift store. If you had just called beforehand, we wouldn’t have had to walk twenty-thousand miles today. Why do I even put up with this? If we don’t find it here, you owe me for all the time I could have been working on my album. You’ve got a song on there, you know.
“Oh, shut up. You’re the one who volunteered to help me. And I think it could be for your benefit that you help me.”
“What are we even looking for again?”
“A necklace. I want to get a really nice piece of jewelry for my mom for her birthday. I thought for sure that I could have found one at the mall, but nothing screamed her, ya’ know? If I let my mom know that you helped me, you will become her most favorite person. Probably even more so than me. Which means you’d actually beat me for once.”
“Ooooo does that mean she’ll make me cookies?”
“Probably.” You laugh, “Let’s go inside.”
“What about this one? Isn’t it perfect?” You look at the necklace Yoongi’s holding up. It’s hideous. From the bright red plastic lips to the jagged spikes hanging from it, you glare at him while his lips pull up into a smirk.
“Yeah, I’d like to see you wear that.”
“Okay, I will!” He puts the monstrosity around his neck, showing it off like a model would. “This beauty right here, is the epitome of fashion. It’s what everyone is trying to get their hands on right now. One day wearing this, and you are guaranteed to receive all the attention you’re craving.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you take a picture on your phone.
“Hey, I have an idea.” You walk into the men’s section of the thrift store and start browsing the isles.
“What are you thinking? I know that ‘I have an evil plan’ look you have right now and it’s making me uncomfortable.”
You don’t answer him as you run you fingers quickly through a rack of shirts, looking for the ugliest piece you can find. You finally settle on a particularly ugly number; a white button-up shirt with lines of ruffles cascading down the front from the neck. Once you're satisfied with this selection, you run through the selection of pants, jackets, and other accessories until you're satisfied that you have chosen the worst outfit possible.
“Go save a dressing room, Yoongi. Put these on when I give them to you, okay?”
Yoongi grumbles as he makes his way toward the back of the store, and you finish picking out clothes. Walking back to find his dressing room, you observe your spoils; the long sleeved white ruffled shirt, the oversized ripped denim shorts, the suede jacket covered in fringe, and finally the circle sunglasses with purple tint. Perfect.
“Yoongi?” You call sweetly. “Try these on for me, okay?”
“Only if you try these on, too.”
You turn toward the voice, startled, and take in the sight of Yoongi with an armful of clothes and a smirk on his face.
“Fine.” You huff as you throw his clothes into a dressing room, and he throws yours in the room beside it. As you close the door to your dressing room, you survey what Yoongi picked out for you and groan. You hear a scoff through the wall of the other room as you shrug on the bright red button up shirt he chose for you.
“Oh, you think you’ve got it bad? How could you have managed to find the ugliest outfit in this place?”
“I'd like to ask you the same thing.”
“Hey. You're the one who called me a fashionista, remember? I am a master at finding the perfect outfit for you.”
You pull on the last article of clothing and survey yourself in the mirror. This was possibly the most hideous outfit you had ever seen: a bright red, short-sleeved button-up shirt with a black vest over it, oversized khaki pants and a floppy pink straw hat that had a daisy sewn onto the side.
You clear the doorway and face him.
“I look like one of those ride operators at the county fair mixed with an old lady who is going out for tea time with her friends.”
There’s a pause as you both take each other in, and you immediately double over with laughter after one look at his disgusted face.
“You suck. I look like the Korean version of Ozzy Osbourne but with better hair. At least I made you look halfway decent,” Yoongi says as he raises his phone up to take a picture of you.
“I do not, these pants are way too big. Plus, they’re out of fashion and I never wear red,” you reply as you lift your arm over your head and pose for another picture. Snap! Then you pop your hip and lift your left hand to rest on it, making the most high-fashion posed face you can think of when you hear the shutter click again.
“Perfect, now move over there and tilt your head back a little bit.”
You comply and move toward the wall and lean against it while Yoongi kneels on the floor, pretending to be a fashion photographer. Snap! You don’t break character as you move to a couch that looked like it was from the 80’s and lean over the armrest, resting your arm on your forehead. Yoongi laughs.
“Yes that’s amazing. These will make good profile pictures on Facebook, dontcha think?” He asks, shaking his phone at you with a smirk on his face.
“What? I mean I’m sure they’re amazing because I’m awesome, but if you post mine, I have to take pictures of you, too!”
“Ha! You wish!” He said as he turned to hide in his dressing room. Before he could close the door, however, you stuck a foot in the door and fastened a hand to the back of his suede jacket.
“Ohh no you don’t!” You say as you pull him out of the room and back to the furniture section, looking for the perfect location to pose in.
“Go lean against that cabinet and do something cool.”
He whines but walks over anyways, leans against the tall piece of furniture with a foot propped up against it, and his fingers shaped in an “L” on his chin.
“Perfect! Now, be more rocker-esque.”
He scoffs and puts both hands up at chest level, both with only the first and pinky fingers up and the middle two fingers and thumb folded into each other. His face still doesn’t look amused, but that’s probably the best you’ll get.
“You’re so difficult, Yoongi. Does everyone ever tell you that? Have a little fun!”
“I do have fun! Just because I’m not very expressive doesn’t mean I have no feelings. Would you even be able to stand my company if I was like this all the time?” With that, his hands shot up and he stuck his tongue out, scrunching his face and taking on the posture the real Ozzy would be proud of. You snap a picture.
“And that’s the one. All you need is heavy black eyeliner and you’re good to go. Maybe you should dress up as him for Halloween.”
“Shut up,” He grumbles, trying to hide the smile creeping onto his face. He’s doing a bad job at hiding it. “Can I take this off now?”
“Fine. We should probably get going now anyways.”
After both of you are in your original clothing and walking out of the thrift store, you pull up the pictures from the impromptu photoshoot to show to Yoongi.
“I have to say, that was pretty fun, even though I didn’t find what I was looking for.”
“Oh you didn’t? I found a few things,” Yoongi says as he fiddles with something behind his back.
“Really? What things?”
“Well, while I was picking out your amazing outfit, I found this necklace and thought your mom might like it,” he said as he opened his fingers out to you.
“Yoongi,” you gasp, “it’s beautiful! My mom will love it, thank you!”
The necklace was simple: a silver chain with a single pendant hanging on it. The pendant was a white stone with a hand-painted flower, and the stone was embedded in silver.
You take the necklace from him and hold it up to see it better.
“I also bought this for you,” he said as he swung something over your shoulders. “Now we can match.”
Confused, you look down to find a well-worn black leather jacket hanging on your shoulders. It was almost identical to the one he was currently wearing, with snaps on the collar and zippers running down the sides and on both sleeves.
“Yoongi, you didn’t have to get me this. I could have bought it on my own.”
“I know. But I wanted to get it for you. Just because.”
You feel the corners of your lips being pulled up in a smile as you swing your arms around his neck.
“Thanks. You really have an eye for fashion, you know.” You look at him in the eyes.
“Better than you at least.”
You let your arms fall and give him a playful glare and turn toward the car.
“C’mon,” you call back to him. “The car won’t drive itself!”