The Mess We've Made | Minsung

chapter eighteen

a/n:
if this story isn't making much sense, just know this book is a lot more Jisung-centric than the last and i do have a plan for it so don't worry haha

"Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?"

"Maybe."

I scoffed softly, "That doesn't help me."

"It's ugly, isn't it? You think it's ugly," Felix pretended to wipe away tears with a few fake sniffles, "It's okay. I understand."

"I mean look at it, it looks like a potato," I said, pointing at the jacket.

"I think it looks vintage."

"Felix, it looks like a potato. I can guarantee you that I could find you something else in here for less than half the price that looks like that but a thousand times cuter."

"It does not look like a potato," Felix huffed, then looking it up and down for a moment, "Actually, I kind of see it."

"I told you." I ripped off my face mask, "I can't fucking do this anymore. I don't care if I get recognized. I can't breathe. I'll never get used to this."

"If we get mobbed and then trampled because we're short it's your fault and you're paying our hospital bill," Felix joked.

"Who the fuck is gonna mob us in a thrift store with only like, four people max besides us?" I chuckled.

"What if someone tries to assassinate you and they hit me instead?"

"Why would anyone try to assassinate me?" I laughed.

Felix thought to himself for a moment, "You're gay."

"Nobody cares that I'm gay," I said.

"Hate crimes happen every day," Felix said in defense of himself.

"I wear makeup, dress nicely, and I spend more time on my hair than I do on the ride to work. These are all things that I've been doing since before I became recognizable in public. If I were to be hate-crimed at some point, it would've happened already."

"I'm just saying that having a famous best friend is not all that it's cracked up to be," Felix shrugged.

"You knew I'd be successful one day. You could've walked away a long time ago," I said as I raked my hand through the racks of clothes.

"There is something so ironic about seeing a rich man shop at a thrift store," I heard a woman say from the other side of the racks.

Felix and I looked at each other for a moment before I spoke back, "I don't know my net worth."

"You're valued at twenty-two million," I heard the woman say, chuckling to herself. "How does someone not know how much they're worth?"

"Someone that doesn't care," I laughed.

"Who are you and why are you trying to sound mysteriously profound!?" Felix exclaimed jokingly, causing the both of us to laugh.

"We're too high for this," I whispered to him.

"That's a deep-ass voice," The woman said, walking around to our side of the rack and scanning her fingers across the clothes as she approached us.

Oh, no.

"Surprise."

Veronica Uchinaga.

"You're-,"

"Yeah."

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"In the flesh."