Kim Namjoon Oneshots

The Magic Shop

Frustration is a very confusing state to be in, because it’s really a blanket term for a number of emotions you feel in a response to something. For example, I am feeling very frustrated right now. I left work this week feeling like I had done a great job, I was on my feet all day and I know that I did all I could within my working hours. But obviously there were misunderstandings and mistrust about my work and overtime. I feel angry at the mistrust, upset that I’m apparently not improving, and scared to see my boss again. I wish I could just say ‘whatever’ and let it pass, but knowing that my review is coming up creates an endless build up of anxiety which makes me more sensitive than I already am. It definitely means I will be crying in front of my boss…again.

I feel so pathetic, walking down this quiet street barely containing my breakdown as tears stream down my cheeks. I am tired of telling myself to stop worrying, to toughen up, of thinking that I’m not good enough.

I’ve been feeling so uncertain about what direction I should take for so long now. This is a fairly new part time job, am I truly unhappy in it or is this a rough patch? And what about the other aspects of my life that I haven’t gotten together yet. It’s as if I am at a crossroads with no signposts, stuck in the middle.

It’s all too much, I can’t take it any more. That’s when I see a small florist shop across from me. It looked completely out of place with its almost Victorian style, rustic, forest green look, plants overgrown in the windows, in this concrete street. ‘The Magic Shop’ is written in a simple cursive above the door, and small signs of various bargains with hand-painted flowers are written on the windows. A warm glow comes from inside, my restless self drawn to the obvious comfort this place expels.

With slow steps, I walk up to the flower shop window, hooding my eyes with my hands to peek through the glass. I can’t see anyone inside, and I debate whether it is a good idea to go in as I know nothing about flowers. But this place, its colour, its melody and vibrations, still persuades me to open the door, and it isn’t until I hear the tinkle of a bell that I realise I have entered. The sound of the bell echoes throughout the space inside, a kind of frequency that rings in your ears but it isn’t uncomfortable or irritating. The inside causes my jaw to drop. It’s as if I had teleported to a different world, a world that only existed in fantasy books. It’s beautiful, spacious, but the amount of plants that span up the walls and ceiling makes the place feel cosy and less intimidating.

"Can I help you?" A voice calls me out of my daydream.

My eyes fall on a tall dimpled young man, dark chestnut hair cut short, eyes and plump lips crinkled and turned into a soft smiling expression. He’s wearing a khaki apron and simple attire, holding a bonsai plant in a pair of elegant hands. I can’t help but stand there in a daze.

He places the bonsai by the till and steps towards me. If any other handsome man was close to me, I would have felt extremely nervous, but this man radiates a warmth and comfort that puts me at complete ease.

"Anything you’re looking for?"

Wow, even his voice sounds like honey.

"Um, no, actually, I walked in without really thinking," I admit.

"That’s okay," he replies, shaking his head. "My name is Namjoon, just let me know if you need any help."

He walks back to the till, tending to the bonsai that has waited for him. I watch in awe for a beat, the sudden anxiety that was brimming in my head just moments ago comes to mind. Would it be wrong to ask him for advice, flowers and plants out of the picture?

"Namjoon?"

He immediately looks up, eyebrows raised. 

"Can I offload what’s on my mind to you?"