↳won’t you be my honeycrisp?
O P E N . S T A R T E R
“But what if I prefer gala apples?” he says the next time he lifts his head. It’s just for laughs though, and he does end up getting them from the small crowd around him. His hands placed to the sides to steady himself just as the ringer dings off. Hoseok had borrowed a hairband from one of the young women working the station, and had shamelessly tied his bangs up. It’s all for the sake of competition, he tells himself, unworried about his appearance. If he was going to do this, he had been intent on going to go all in.
He didn’t manage to beat the record, but he did have the highest score of the night so far -- at 16 apples. At this point he doesn’t really care, a headache starting to form from the combination of wet hair and lots of head movements. Maybe this had been a bad idea?
Someone hands him a bunch of prize vouchers and he shoves them into his pockets. “I can’t seeeeee,” he whines as he straightens up, wiping water from the creases of his eyes. His bottom lip juts out as he continues to try and move water from his face, feeling it drip down his chin. A hand goes out to reach blindly for the towel that he remembers is somewhere near him.









