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—what if i'm not the only one?
OCTOBER 1: KIM NAMJOON
==
"well, i'm just saying—don't you think it's a good idea to actually finish an investigation before jumping to another? isn't that what the detective force is supposed to do?"
the sitting of the two shrugs his shoulders and takes a long, deep sip of his coffee. "yeah, but people here are dumbasses. they only care about media attention."
"should you really be saying that here? these...'dumbasses' are all around you."
kim namjoon smooths his crinkling shirt with a weary hand, eyes squinting against the documents in his fingers he somehow managed to retrieve from the messy file cabinets in the staff room. "it's not like they can hear me. and besides, they already hate me enough to ignore."
jung hoseok—a bubbly, orange-haired coffee boy with a sharp tongue and drumming fingers—bites his lip, looking around with an irreversible expression of anxiety. "i wouldn't go as far as to say that—"
"listen, man, don't you have coffee to be giving or something?" namjoon doesn't mean to snap, but he's beginning to grow irritated. it isn't hoseok's fault, of course; the office itself is callous in its investigations, not to mention deadass rude to him, and it's caused his mood to falter bit by bit every day.
(he's only had the job for a few months since graduating college; it isn't exactly what he expected investigation to be.)
namjoon's ulterior aspiration, ever since childhood, was—is—to be a kickass detective solving world-class crimes, saving lives—the such. watching animated cartoons and james bond movies as a child only fueled this; he certainly had the intelligence to make his dream possible.
it is why he persisted so severely through college, and it's how he managed to graduate at the top of his class. finally, for once, it seemed things were going in his direction. he was offered a substantial job even without attending grad school.
what is he doing now, though? covering stories about goddamn celebrity jewelry theft scandals.
hoseok's face falls the slightest, a crestfallen look in his eyes, but he manages a meager smile. "right—right! i, um, sorry for bothering you dude, i just, like, y'know—need any more coffee, or...?"
after an elongated pause of silence, namjoon rubs his eyes with the calloused pads of his thumb and index finger and shakes his head. when he looks up again, hoseok is gone. his coffee cup is, too.
namjoon sighs once more.
==
"what the fuck even are you, huh? shouldn't you be in college or whatever? how old are you, twelve?"
