«Intentions» v.k

Chapter Three: My Hope.

J-Hope's POV.

"You want me to do what?!"

"Just follow him around. Become his friend, even. I need you to get me information about his personal life."

I've given up at this point, there's no chance I could argue with him and win. "Fine." I agree, unwillingly. Taehyung shoots me a rectangular smile and sits back in his chair, left leg crossed on top of his right knee.

"Perfect. I shall call Mr Kim on your behalf, you start work at the restaurant on Saturday." He gestures towards the door while looking at me. I just sigh lightly in response, understanding his subtle 'Get Out Of My Office' look and rise from my chair to leave. I take a few steps out of the door and see Taehyung standing in the doorway- that I walked through previously- through my peripheral vision. I turn slowly and look at him with a slight pout.

"Oh and one last thing, Hoseok. We have hired a stylist for you, you are going to have to change your look and name so you can't be traced back to us. Instructions are on the desk. Good bye."

*SLAM*

I groan and rub my forehead, a headache starting to battle it's way into my temple. I guess I should just get this over and done with. I walk towards the brightly coloured receptionists desk and see an appointment set for me with the stylist; Izzy. It's at five o'clock tonight. Perfect, a ghost town building with just me some strange woman that I've never met.

*******

I begrudgingly follow the instructions and arrive at 'Meeting Room B'. I open the door to find a small, frizzy haired lady grinning wildly at me. I know she could be a psychopath that owns 17 snakes, but I can't help but smile back; her smile is so infectious.

"So you're Hoseok. Ahh, Mr Kim has told me a lot about you." She says quickly as she ushers me to a seat in front of a black, leather brief case. 'Are they the ingredients of my new look?' I wonder as I allow myself to be seated.

"Taehyung talks about me?" I ask, sounding more astonished than I intended to.

"Nah, I just wanted to break the ice. Like a polar bear." She proceeded to stomp on the ground and perform her interpretation of how a polar bear would act while breaking ice. I laughed in response, half scared and half excited as to what was happening.

"Righty-o! Let's get started. First, the hair." She crinkles up her nose as she stands back and looks at me. She steps back forwards and grabs a fistful of my fringe. "This," she wiggles my fringe back and forth, "has to go."

"Why? What's wrong with it? I like my fringe down." I exclaim, innocently. She gives me a look of complete horror before stumbling back and letting go of my hair. It's like I had just killed her baby or something.

After she calmed herself down, she silently grabbed a bottle (which I assume was hairspray and not pepper spray) and began to coat and dust my hair with it. I sat with my eyes closed and let the master do her work.

"Okay, open." She commands and slides a mirror into my hands. I crack open my eyes and catch a glimpse of myself in the reflective glass.

"Woah." I shift my head left to right and look at my hair from all angles. I look good, not gonna lie. I look at Izzy and see her smiling at her work.

"Im glad you like it." Her smile somehow gets wider with her words. 'If she continues smiling, her jaw might break from happiness.' I think to myself.

"Now, I need to give you a step by step for your makeup routi-"

"Makeup?!" I sputter in reply, cutting her off.

"Yes. Makeup. Now shush before I forget what I'm talking about." Izzy moves to be in front of the leather case.