Bambam - Library (Short Story)

For the Sake of Fashion

He saw it as soon as he opened the book. He couldn't believe it.

"Ohmygosh!" Bambam yelled.

Everyone within a 5 metre radius turned to shush him, a few shook their heads in disapproval.

"Sorry!" He whispered ducking his head in embarrassment. He looked back down at the neat scribble and then closed the book, making up his mind with a firm nod.

His chair scraped back painfully against the floor as he stood up which earned a few more filthy looks cast in his direction. However, Bambam was too preoccupied in his thoughts to notice.

An elderly woman sat at the library's front desk. Her forehead was deeply creased and her eyebrows knotted into a permanent frown. Her withered fingers flew across the ancient computer's keyboard like spider legs, her dull grey eyes set steadily on the screen.

"Excuse me?" Bambam attempted to attract her attention. She didn't even look up.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably but alas, still no response.

Minutes seemed to tick by until the librarian eventually pressed the full stop with more forcefulness than deemed necessary.

"Yes?" She inquired tersely.

"I was wondering who this is," Bambam opened the book to its very first page and pointed to the name at the bottom of a list of people who had previously borrowed the book.

The librarian's eyes followed his delicate, thin finger that picked out the two words. It was written in English, and stood out like a sore thumb among the other hangul names.

Jackson Wang.

Her eyes narrowed slightly and she adjusted her glasses. Bambam waited impatiently for her to speak.

"Sorry, all personal information is strictly confidential. "

"But this is important!"

"Confidentiality is also important," the woman retorted, her voice clipped with annoyance.

"But-!" Bambam protested.

"No raised voices in the library. Have a nice day," she turned back to the dusty computer, clearly indicating the conversation was over. Bambam gritted his teeth in annoyance and swept the book back up. He stalked out the library clutching the book to his chest and when a small screen by the exit asked him to rate his experience at the library today he made sure to press the sad face.

Outside, Bambam gasped at the sudden contrast from the cool, air conditioned library. The summer sun was burning up Seoul. Waves of heat rolled off the pavements and cars flashed like paparazzi cameras as they sped by.

He put the book between his knees and quickly pulled off his jumper. He stretched his arms in relief, enjoying the new found freedom his torso felt after being restricted by the figure hugging sweater. Good fashion comes at a price, and Bambam was always willing to pay it, no matter whether it was at the cost of his wallet or his ability to breathe, just as long as he looked good.

As he flung out his arm his hand hit something hard and there came a yelp in response. Bambam turned in alarm to see a young man nursing his arm with a wounded expression.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Bambam quickly apologized and gave a curt bow. The man surveyed Bambam, eyes looking him up and down. He was still clutching his arm, although Bambam was sure it couldn't have hurt that much.

He began to feel a little uncomfortable under the other's scrutiny and felt he had to break the silence some how. "Um...," he began, "Are you okay?"