One step. Two steps. Three ste--a wall. More specifically, wall covered by shelves upon shelves, all containing a whole lot of objects that, although interesting looking, in grand majority were of unknown purpose to Yongguk. There were some art pieces, strange figurines that looked half-broken, lamps that seemed to belong to a whole another century, books that had most likely gone by many, many pairs of hands before getting there... He had been at a flea market as a kid a few times and if his memory served him right, this pretty much looked like a condensed version of those, all cramped into a way too small of a space to properly exhibit every piece.
It was a curious place. A nice place. Unexpected, considering it was situated right in the middle of Seoul, a big metropoly that seemingly had no room for anything other than corporate and mainstream entertainment buildings. Most of all, it was a strange place for Yongguk to find himself at this time, in this situation, with this company.
“Please, explain to me -- just one reason, really -- why am I hiding with you in this tiny shop.” He asked, although it was more of a demand (a polite one, yet still a demand nonetheless), throwing the fellow idol a pointed, doubtful look somewhere along the way of his eyes trying to take in their surroundings. He could’ve probably just stood there and stared around for hours, and still not notice nor understand all the details of this shop. He wasn’t nearly as annoyed with the situation as he might’ve come off as.
“Not that I’m complaining about the shop itself.” Came the vocal reflection just a split second later, as Yongguk turned towards the elderly lady who might’ve as well been the owner, by the look of her slowly and comfortably moving some things around. She seemed to know exactly where and what was placed, which Yongguk had no idea how was even possible. “But,” his attention shifted back to Jongin, standing probably closer than he ever had been, due to the lack of actual space in the farthest corner of the store, as far from the entrance and windows as possible. “It’s kind of really awkward. Shouldn’t you be used to dealing with your fans by now? I mean, I know you’re probably in one of the few groups that have it the worst, but... They’re your fans. Deal with them.” Yongguk was rather glad that his own fans were rather rensponsible and, well, sane, most of the time; he felt for groups like EXO or, back in the days, DBSK, who had to deal with all kinds of fans-related nuances, he really did... But he wasn’t very used to being pulled right into the fire of said condition.
“Why am I even here? I should just go. When I see them, I’ll--well, I could lie about you and your current location maybe, but then again, do I feel that empathic today?” He wondered, looking somewhere far above both of their heads, where under the rather low ceiling, a very old and very massive machanical clock was hanging, successfully making him zone out for a longer moment. What a beauty, he couldn’t help but think, even despite most definitely not being anywhere close to any kind of antiques’ lover or collector.
