KALOPSIA ✓

3. three coins in the fountain

3. three coins in the fountain
"which one will the fountain bless?"

//

the male sits up in his bed, brushing his short, brownish bangs away from his face. mornings huh? the last thing he remembers is wanting to go to sleep so he doesn't have to think about anything. but now the morning is here... already.

there was a time in Namjoon's life when he enjoyed mornings. but that was when he was younger– when excitement echoed in every corner of his life, in every woman's bed sheets and in every dorm room at college. the boys he hung around at college never told him the excitement would be temporary.

now there's nothing but mundaneness in a routine he wishes he didn't need.

but he does, everyone needs money.

his slender, long legs drag him out of bed as he welcomes the chill breeze coming from his poorly made windows. he stirs himself a cup of coffee soon after, stark naked in his own kitchen before bringing himself to stare at the city that lies behind the glass.

Namjoon's bony hand rubs against his chestnut eyes before sipping on the dark liquid of his coffee. no sugar, no milk– it wakes him up.

thirty minutes later, the coffee mug is placed into the sink, a blazer is thrown over his shoulders, his satchel is draped on top, his keys jingle in his hand and he leaves his tiny apartment. a tiny place for a big man.

Namjoon makes his way to work, still feeling incredibly dull about mornings in general but soon after, coins are placed onto a counter and a newspaper is in his hand. he feels a little better.

he looks across each written column briefly, skipping sports details and celebrity gossip before he reaches the most interesting section– crime, law and punishment.

the young man walks through the streets of New York, eyes glued to a newly printed newspaper which as a matter of fact smells new. he dodges passing strangers smoothly, satchel falling off his shoulder as he concentrates on each and every word. he's always been intrigued by the things he never chose to do– you can't be a writer, therapist, detective, hairdresser all at the same time you stupid boy, that's not the way life works. choose one career and tattoo that into your life!

Namjoon's eyes are slow at reading everything but the crime section. he finishes in mere minutes, rolling up the newspaper and leaping forward to help a woman with her groceries. she thanks him, calling him a kind, young man before appreciating his dimples by dabbing at them with her wrinkly finger.

and a minute later, the adult is at his office.

mundane routine, is all he thinks when he opens the entrance, unlocking his private therapy practice before he sits at his office desk. as usual, clients come and go– some not showing up, wasting his time and effort as he simply stirs another cup of coffee.

after a very mundane day, Namjoon makes his way back to his apartment after locking up his private practice. the keys jingle in his blazer pocket as he walks, still feeling the same dread about mornings even though time has passed and it is now late evening. how he feels about mornings? he feels that everyday, every hour, every minute and every damn second.

he stops in his tracks on his path to his apartment. he turns to his side, making his way down an alleyway. he has some friends to see– the only decent part of the oh so terrible mundane routine.