This wasn’t what Yoongi had been expecting when one of his uncle’s many frivolous assistants came scurrying into his room, forgetting to knock, which, now that he looks back, had definitely been a bad omen. “Mr. Min would like to meet with you in his study.” The young woman had said, fixing her thick-rimmed glasses on the bridge of her nose after rising from a deep bow.
He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, humming in disconcerted acknowledgment.
He had made his way down the winding halls and into the office-like room, finding a seat and shifting into a comfortable position.
He’d already run every possible scenario through his mind, prepared for anything his uncle might throw at him. He had prepared to be scolded for only getting a 98% on his last exam. He had prepared for his uncle to try and convince him about how he needed a ‘real’ assistant, rather than letting Hoseok continue to claim the position at his side. He had prepared every counter defence, gone through every argument. He was convinced that he was prepared for anything the old man had in store.
“I’m re-introducing you to the general public.”
This was not what Yoongi had expected.
“What?” The younger blinked, baffled.
“I’m going to throw a comeback party for you, there will be many suitors there from other respected chaebols. If you happen to find one that interests you, don’t hesitate to make yourself comfortable.” The older man smiled, mildly amused by his nephew’s astonishment at this turn of events.
Yoongi stared blankly at his uncle. He took a deep breath in an effort to sober his mind. “I’m not interested in any superficial gold-digging children’s attempts to court me. When did you plan this to happen anyway?”
“Those ‘gold-digging children’ are the future heirs to highly respected chaebol empires. And you never know, they might surprise you.” He smirked in amusement at Yoongi’s disgusted expression. “And all preparations are set for March ninth.”
“That’s in less than a week! And you’re only telling me this now ?!” Yoongi glared.
“Yes. Now, I’m sure Hoseok would be happy to help you find an outfit for the occasion. Lord knows you’re not going dressed like, this .” He gestured to Yoongi’s outfit of blue jeans, an oversized black sweater and fuzzy white socks.
Yoongi scoffed, storming out of the room. This was not what he had expected.
Days later, Yoongi found himself on a small raised platform, surrounded by high-end clothes, a famous fashion designer conversing with his best friend in an effort to create the perfect outfit for his return.
“He needs something dark to contrast his complexion. Simple, yet sophisticated.” The designer commented, hand on his chin as he stared at the young boy.
Hoseok hummed as if he actually understood what the fuck the other man was saying, causing Yoongi to scoff. “I feel like a suit is too much, he needs something that really screams ‘young, single and approachable’.” Hoseok replied, leaning closer to the designer. “He’s a virgin.”
“ Yah !” Yoongi called out, the two older men ignoring his annoyed shout.
“How about, fitted black jeans for the bottom. Maybe a few rips at the knees. Youthful, modern, but that can still accentuate his hips and glutes.” The designer reasoned casually.
Yoongi felt heat rise to his cheeks, he clenched his hands in fists, staring at the wall in contemplation at just how much he’d make Hoseok suffer after this.
Hoseok looked to the man, an approving gleam in his eyes.
“For the top, something more professional but sexy, like a silk dress shirt. One that will show off his lean frame while still remaining loose and casual.”
“ Oooohhhhh~ ” Hoseok drawled out in an impressed tone.
“Hmmm… for accessories, silver compliments his skin tone. We could give him a few rings, a watch, and some flashy earrings. A choker if he’s feeling extra flirty.”
“He is.” Hoseok insisted mischievously.
“Like hell I am!” Yoongi interrupted, face beat red and eyes wide. He stared at the two older men in the mirror, too embarrassed to turn and face them directly.
Hoseok raised his hands in surrender, a light chuckle falling from his lips. “Fine, fine. We won’t make you wear a choker.” Yoongi let go a huff of air he hadn’t realized he was holding. Hoseok lowered his hands. “Though, you have to admit, you’d look like a tasty snack in one.” Hoseok commented playfully, chuckling as Yoongi’s flush darkened and he stepped off the platform to, ‘take a break’.
Hoseok continued to chat with the designer, choosing materials and accessories for the young heir’s ensemble. Meanwhile, Yoongi made his way into the washroom.
He powerwalked into the expensive looking washroom, ignoring the supposedly empty stalls that sat behind him. He immediately turned on the tap, splashing cool water over his skin. After a moment of calming breaths, he raised his head and checked his complexion in the mirror. After approving the newly paled skin, Yoongi sent a heavy kick to the trash bin sitting idly by his feet. “Fucking hell. Stupid old man.” He sneered to the small dent in the otherwise flawless and unmoving white bin. “Who the fuck cares what I wear anyway? Why is it such a big deal? Does he seriously fucking think anyone will give a shit once they realize I’m a pessimistic asshole who doesn’t like any of their petty asses anyway?” He clenched his fists, letting out an exasperated breath of air.
After another moment of breathing in the room’s calming aroma of jasmine and lavender, Yoongi decided to return to his private fitting room in the back of the building.
Namjoon knew his brothers would be more than happy to help him figure out an outfit for Min Yoongi’s party. Seokjin was obsessed with fashion and Taehyung loved the whole cinderella effect of makeovers, so naturally they were excited.
The three boys arrived at the expensive fashion department they always went to when they had an especially important event to attend.
“Namjoon-ssi! Taehyung-ssi! Seokjin-ssi! What can I help you fine boys with today?” The store manager chimed, immediately recognizing the distinguished trio.
Namjoon smiled coolly. “A personal dressing room in the back, please.” He answered to the older woman. Normally, you’d have to call in a week in advance to book a back room with a fashion consultant. However, thanks to the Kims’ generous investments into the store, all it took was a phone call and the boys would be in the day-of.
The older woman led the three young millionaires to the back of the store, bowing and assuring them that a designer would be with them soon, before leaving the boys to roam.
Seokjin skimmed through the different suits, commenting on the tailoring and material quality, while Taehyung bolted straight for the Gucci section, giddily rummaging through the flashy colours and sequences.
Instead of joining the others in searching through the eloquently manufactured fashion pieces, Namjoon opted to instead fish his phone from his pocket, opening Naver and searching for, ‘Min Yoongi’. Several trending articles about the Min family’s upcoming reception for the young heir appeared in his feed. He clicked one, reading the first few lines silently.
Min Yoongi, also known as the ‘hidden lotus’ and ‘white lotus’, due to his concealment from the general public, as well as his rumoured good-looks, is finally making his return to the chaebol world. Though, not without first having a glorious banquet thrown in his honor.
Namjoon frowned at the lack of photos in the article. He quickly exited the site, going to the picture section in the web browser. He was met with shockingly few pictures of interest. All the photos consisted of Yoongi’s deceased parents and the current CEO with his wife. His frown deepened.
He scrolled rigorously, searching with different keywords, ‘Yoongi Min’, ‘Min Corp heir’ and ‘White Lotus’, but all he managed to come up with were photos of actual flowers. He sighed in frustration. He went back to the search bar, this time typing in, ‘Min Corp accident’. Several photos of the accident and news reports turned up, nothing Namjoon hadn’t already seen before. Just before he was about to give up and return to his siblings, a photo caught his eye.
It was a photo of an even older photo, printed and framed. In it were the old CEO, his wife, and a small child with cat-like eyes and a gentle, closed-mouth smile. His heart warmed at the vaguely familiar features of a young Min Yoongi, still as flawless as he remembered him.
He stared at the phone with wide, longing eyes, hyper aware of every pound his heart made against the inside of his chest.
“What ya doing Hyung?” Namjoon snapped his head up, he quickly shut off the phone, leaving the photo open in his tabs. He was met with a curious-looking Taehyung, chocolate eyes wide and dewy.
Namjoon blinked absentmindedly. “Ah, nothing! Everything’s fine! I- Uh… I need to use the washroom!”
Taehyung furrowed his brows in confusion as his older brother hurriedly left the dressing room. “Alright! But don’t take forever! The designer will be here soon!” Taehyung called out after him. Namjoon made a grunt of acknowledgment as he closed the door.
He rapidly hurried to the unnecessarily flashy washroom, quickly locking himself in the furthest stall. He sat down on the still-lidded toilet, opening his phone once again to see the youthful face of Min Yoongi. He bit his bottom lip, an emotion he didn’t recognize filling the pit of his stomach. It was almost like anger, so similar to frustration that it bothered him, but, it wasn’t an emotion he disliked, which only bothered him more.
He let let the phone fall to his side, leaning his head back against the wall behind him. “Fuck, seriously…” He sighed lightly, staying in that position for a moment longer. He let his mind wander to a state of emptiness, a void he often found himself coming back to. It calmed him, reminded him that everything was fine because nothing mattered. Nothing mattered .
Suddenly and without warning, the washroom door opened harshly, causing Namjoon to jump. Quick, heavy footsteps made their way inside, stopping at the row of sinks. He stayed quiet as the tap began to run, the sound of water splashing dully filling the room. A few moments passed as the water continued to fall idly against the porcelain bowl of the sink. Namjoon could make out faint, steadily softening breaths.
The silence, however, was quickly broken by the crash of what sounded to be the trash bin. “Fucking hell. Stupid old man.” A low voice spat out. Namjoon knit his brows together. “Who the fuck cares what I wear anyway? Why is it such a big deal? Does he seriously fucking think anyone will give a shit once they realize I’m a pessimistic asshole who doesn’t like any of their petty asses anyway?” The voice, male, as far as Namjoon could tell, was low, slurred, almost drunken. It felt like the warmth of a heavy comforter in the morning, enveloping, safe. However, the words the boy spat were like knives, to the point and unforgiving. It sent chills down Namjoon’s spine. The words were led by an exasperated huff of air. Finally, he heard the opening and closing of a door, the washroom once again empty.
Namjoon released a breath of air he didn’t even know he was holding. Once his mind broke from the spell set in by the stranger’s voice, he couldn’t help but become annoyed. More at himself than anything, but he’d never admit that.
He made his way back to his dressing room, the designer already in the midst of taking Taehyung’s measurements for no apparent reason, other than to fill the time Namjoon had been gone.
Namjoon sat down with a sigh, catching the attention of his brothers. “Hyung! You’re back!” Taehyung hopped off the mini platform, causing the designer who had been taking his measurements to huff out an aggravated breath of air. Ignoring the professional's clear annoyance, Taehyung pulled his brother onto the platform where he’d been standing. “Namjoon Hyung needs an outfit to woo someone rich.” Taehyung informed the designer with a boxy smile, the man replying with a mildly annoyed hum.
“You were gone for a while.” Seokjin commented casually.
“I got held up.” Namjoon stated bluntly. Seokjin raised a brow, causing Namjoon to take a deep breath. “Someone came crashing into the washroom while I was in there. He kicked the trash bin then proceeded to say disrespectful words about a, quote, ‘stupid old man’.” Seokjin’s lips curled upward into an amused smirk. “What?” Namjoon huffed out at his Hyung.
The older shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just that you seem to be really worked up by this, disrespectful washroom crasher.”
Namjoon scoffed. “I’m not worked up!” He blinked, noticing the raise of his voice. He made a coughing sound in the back of his throat. “I’m not worked up.” He repeated, calmer this time.
“Right.” Seokjin muttered dubiously.
“It’s just-“ Namjoon started, unsure of how to describe his aggravation. “I don’t know. He just aggravated me.” Seokjin raised both brows, a subtle shock in his expression. “What now?” Namjoon asked annoyedly.
Seokjin blinked, not responding for a moment. He opened his mouth, still stalling a bit, almost checking the reliability of his own thoughts. “You just…” He thought for another moment. “That just seems really similar to how you described Min Yoongi.”
Namjoon blinked, scoffing for a moment at the thought. “So what? I’m allowed to have similar opinions on separate people.”
“No, Hyung’s right.” Taehyung chimed in. “That’s the exact way you described Min Yoongi. You’ve never described anyone else that way.” Namjoon furrowed his brows, unsure of how to respond.
He was just aggravated, it meant nothing, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter.