Antique Shop

Sunlight seeped through the curtain. Painting the white walls with vivid hues of orange and yellow. A figure groaned, rustling underneath the duvet. Sleeping wasn't really an option.

He sat up from the bed. Fluffy brown hair ruffling as he did so. With a wave of his hand, the curtains close, engulfing the room with darkness. He connected his phone to the charger, reminding himself not to spend his 'sleeping' hours playing that stupid farming game.

Lifting himself up from the bed he made his way towards the shower, not bothering looking at his faint reflection on the bathroom mirror. After a quick shower, he threw on a black shirt and wore a black hoodie over it, slipped on some denim jeans and walked out the room.

After tying the knot of his sneakers, he continues downstairs. Taking his time switching the lights on and making sure the heater was at the right temperature. Of course by doing so he had to search the weather and compute the right temperature to balance out the freezing temperature outside. 

As he was walking to the counter, he noticed a pool of red liquid on the floor. Panic sets in. He disappeared abruptly and came back with a mop and a bucket full of water, casually cleaning up the mess.

"I need to get me one of those anti-spill tumblers. This is the 3rd time this week this has happened."

Pretty sure you have a gentle grasp on what's going on. No, he didn't murder someone. No, he's not a psychopath. No, he doesn't work at a hospital.

Any guesses? While you try to figure it out, let's get back to the story.

The smell of old stuff and books somehow masked the scent of blood. He was relieved that opening up an antique shop has benefits. Aside from the money of course.

After cleaning up, he disposed of the 'evidence'. Went around the counter towards the door and flipped the sign “We’re Open!” 

He sighed, loud enough for the voices in his head to hear how boring his life is. Although he's still surprised by the fact that he has a lot of customers, it never occurred to him that people these days still consider buying old and vintage stuff even for a hefty price.

As soon as he placed his hands on the counter, the bell rang, indicating a customer. The faint smell of cherries tickled his nose. Cherry shampoo. He hummed, pushing himself to the door. Momentarily, he stopped in his tracks. There was no one there. 

Usually people would stand there like meerkats peering over tall cabinets to see if the predator is out there to hunt them and take their money in exchange for a vinyl record they won't even have a purpose for but in this rare occasion, no one was there.

He made his way around the sections of antique clocks and saw a tall figure with his or her back facing towards him. “What can I do for you?” the customer yelped and spun around facing him.

“I’m sorry for startling you.” His voice was low and casual. The guy looked at him with widened eyes, shaking his head vigorously. 

"It’s okay!” the guy smiled.

“So, what are you trying to find?” again, he asked, eager to finish the transaction and be left alone. The guy's curious eyes scattered around the place. He hummed. “I’m not really trying to find anything.” the owner raised his eyebrows at him. 

“Oh.” he was about to turn his back when the guy spoke again, “How long have you been here, sir?'' The sudden curiosity annoyed him. But he had to make a good impression on his customers.

“I’ve been here for quite a while now.” the guy nodded and proceeded to look around. “Huh, that’s weird. I have never seen this place before, and that’s funny because I was born and grew up around this area.”

“Well, it’s not really an eye-catching place so you might have never noticed it.” okay, that was stupid. A shop with big glass windows that sells vintage stuff and has a ton of customers each day is NOT noticeable? A whole store doesn't normally pop up that instantly! He has to come up with a much better excuse.

Well, it's too late.

He tried to sound as casual as he could. The guy shrugged and gave him a smile.

“Maybe you’re right!” ok, this dude is dumb as rocks. 

"Why don’t you look around? Maybe you’ll find something you’d like.” the guy nodded.

Before he can even escape the scene (temporarily). The guy spoke again.

"Oh! I'm Jeongin by the way."

"Chan." He briefly shook the guy's hand, turning to his heel quietly. 

‘This is gonna be a long day…’

-

It’s been weeks since Jeongin first visited the antique shop. He completely forgot about the fact that the store suddenly popped out of nowhere. Chan was a bit bothered by his daily presence but eventually got used to it. He found himself waiting for the guy.

“Chan! I brought you donuts!” the familiar voice resonated around the shop. Chan was busy tending to a customer, he excused himself and shouted back at Jeongin. “Hang on, Jeongin. I have a customer.” he knew the guy would just walk towards the counter and sit there and wait for him. 

The bell rang again, Chan almost groaned, he hadn't rested until this morning except for the lunch break. Customers have been in and out for the past 6 hours. “I’ll get it, don't worry!” Jeongin shouted, racing to the door. Chan was thankful, although he doesn’t express it quite often.

Jeongin has been helping him for almost a month now. The guy was convinced that Chan wasn’t really a people person, that's why he didn’t hire other employees. Partially, he got it right. Jeongin wanted to change that, so he started coming into the shop after his classes and on his free day. He can clearly tell the shop owner was annoyed but he pushed further, until 1 week after his frequent visits, Chan offered him some tea. Feeling accomplished, he started coming into the shop even on weekends.

Jeongin was practically an unofficial employee at Chan’s antique shop.

He made his way to the customer, following them from behind. Answering their questions about the products. After almost a month of working there, he already knows almost all the vintage stuff, where they are located and how to price them. Not unlike the first time he made a beeline around the shop and ended up confusing both himself and the customer.

“Oh that, Sir, is a locket from 1882. It belonged to a farmer who was deeply in love with this rich woman. He sold half of his land just to buy that and gave it to the lady.” the customer was in awe and mentioned something about his wife liking vintage jewelry. Jeongin beamed at him. “Well isn’t that great