Paper or Plastic?

Part 1

      Lay looked from the list in his hand, up to the monstrous shelf in front of him, then back down again. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he whimpered mentally.

      The world hated him.

      No matter what he did, things only turned out more jumbled and messed up instead of better. And as hard as he tried, he could not seem to overcome the "airhead" label he had been dubbed with his first week in Seoul.

      Not only was he a bit of a spacey person to begin with—always getting lost in the many creative thoughts going on in his head—but he had also been overwhelmed by the new country. He had studied the language, history, and culture before arriving, but that did nothing to prevent the culture shock from setting in the second he stepped out of the airport. Everything was so different; he felt like he had gotten swept up into a tornado and could not manage to come back down, or stop everything from spinning.

      He stared hard at the grocery list, as if it could somehow magically give him the answer, and contemplated what to do. He could easily call and ask Chanyeol if he knew what aisle this very specific brand of noodles—no seriously, the giant had underlined it three times like he could have somehow missed the bold lettering or the many stars drawn around it—would be in. But he knew if he made that call, his two best friends would pick on him about it for the next week... at least, probably longer though knowing them. And it would be added to their many "This one time, Lay..." stories, which always end in everyone laughing hysterically—except him of course.

      This thought made him decide to only call as a last resort... a very very last resort.

      Thinking maybe his best option was to just go ask someone at customer service where it would be, he turned to go... and walked straight into someone.

      Lay had to grab onto the other person, their bodies flush against one another, and do some quick shuffling of his feet, but he somehow managed to keep them both upright.

      To say he was incredibly embarrassed at that moment would have been an understatement. Not only had he spaced out and done something stupid again, but now he had just groped, and basically grinded his crotch against, a perfect stranger.

      Looking up to apologize, Lay realized the other was actually a store employee, and not another customer like himself. He was not sure if that made things better or not, but it somehow made him feel a little less guilty about it.

      "I'm really sorry. I wasn't looking‒"

      "No, it was my fault. I was peeking at your list to see what you were searching for so intently." The worker sheepishly admitted, biting his lip in the sexiest way Lay had ever seen. "I like to be so helpful that I don't think about what I'm doing sometimes. I shouldn't have stood so close. "

      Oh God... Lay panicked. That lip bite, mixed with the way the stranger had looked down and then back up to lock their eyes in a pointed gaze, was killer. This guy is HOT, and knows it. Exactly Lay's type, but the very thing he can't have.

      With his airhead reputation, no one saw him as "serious" dating material, especially not the gorgeous, popular, well-put-together type. He had lots of people who tried to initiate something casual with him, sure. But that was not what he wanted or needed. He wanted long-term; he needed to find someone that would love and accept him, the real him, not the incorrect person the world viewed him as.