` overwritten.
@prhyunsoo / end of april, 2018. tailor’s.
this place feels different every time.
sometimes he walks in expecting the old layout. dull brown tones and dust lining ledges, running along the bottom of walls, with one particular patch of scratched paint on the left. habitually, he looks for it in the same generic direction behind a mannequin. where uncle hojun used to sit hunched over; now it’s an even shade, traces smoothed over.
jinwoon’s left a repurposed louis vuitton paper bag on the table. an old suit jacket sits in it, folded, with a matching vest on top of it. the same few buttons have been coming loose. old fabric, tattered holes where the needles have gone through over and again. it’s not so much of frugality than it is of familiarity at this point.
as a half-plea for a favour, he leaves a paris baguette bag next to it. assorted cream cakes, two jars of caramel pudding.
it’s one last time for one too many times.
he’s settled in the nearest seat, aligning the cup handle along a faint crack on the saucer beneath. the tune from earlier has been furiously looping in his head, picked up from the subway store down the street, right before he turns the corner. momoland’s bboom bboom –– a sticky fixation, and the curse is he only remembers the two chorus lines. faintly, in the muted silence within the store, the earworm becomes a light ringing in his ears. so he shifts, fidgeting hands reaching for the soft ruler curled in an almost perfect circle on the coffee table in front of him.
“it’s quiet for a friday night.” small talk with a strange sentiment – since when has the tailor’s hours ever followed the common peak hours? the left leg’s crossed over the other, and he’s unaware that this is the third time he’s switched since sitting down. “isn’t it almost school holidays?”
