i'd pick more daisies. [namjoon x reader]

thursdays child.

"Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace; Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go; Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for its living; But the child that is born on the Sabbath day, Sunday's child is bonny and blithe, and good and gay."

The light flickered. Your vision blotched with white patches. You gathered your bearings for a moment, hands slipping up to shield your eyes and then turning on your side.  Dammit. You had passed out while working last night. It wasn't the first incident of this happening and you doubted it would be the last. You carefully shifted your laptop to the side, not wanting to delete a single letter of your almost-finished report to your boss. You worked at a record label and despite your previous passion for music, it was incredibly dull. Watching all the musicians pass and go was the dullest part. You swung your legs off the side of your bed, stretching each of your muscles slowly. It was just after noon on a Saturday. You recalled your plans for tonight - nothing. Probably extra work for your boss due to the fact all your friends live back home. Sometimes you regretted moving to the city because of your failures in dating, and the loneliness in general. You trailed your finger along the rim of your mug as you peered out of the apartment window into the street below. This city wasn't the safest place, you knew, but it was very affordable. It was bearable, at least, when you knew where not to go.  You had learned all of this from a co-worker at the label, after you had to spend three weeks searching the city for performers. This happened often when the boss needed new and passionate musicians to sign on. It was the type of work you really hated, though - trailing the city streets and listening to every single street performer you saw. It dragged late into the night and every time an assignment like that pops up on your desk, you dread it. That's why you had to get a promotion soon, or else- ding. Oh? Your hands scrambled to reach your phone deep in your pocket before staring at the Email notification from your boss. You outwardly groaned, tapping the screen whilst your shirt was halfway on. Your eyes scanned it but you invested your time in reading it when your toothbrush was sticking out of your mouth in front of the bathroom mirror.

[Y/N], it's time for you to go recruiting. The temps are busy with production work and nobody else can do it. I need talented rap artists for the new album and quickly. You have two months.

- Xander

You closed your eyes silently in frustration, trying not to scream out loud. All the street performance rappers were twelve year old boys drowned in Lynx body spray and expensive designer clothes. Nobody that you could actually sign on for an album. Despite knowing this, you still pulled on your jacket, mustering up as much positivity as possible before stepping out of the door.

You spent hours in the rainy city. It was depressing and dreary. There were barely any street performers, never mind rappers in this weather. Depressing thoughts spun in your head as you sat in a coffee shop, sipping a lukewarm beverage and wondering if this job was worth it. Your eyes flickered past the multiple articles on underground hip-hop you managed to conjure up, attempting to make sense of a genre you barely knew anything about. It was difficult. You knew this city had a blossoming array of sub-cultures and you could be whoever you wanted in a place so diverse. The only problem was getting in on these scenes and befriending these people. You weren't a social person already. Now, you were expected to locate and get on good terms with underground performers? That thought made you anxious. You sighed and traced your fingers along the wooden table, biting your lip. It took a lot of effort to get up from your place and exit the coffee shop, back into the cold.

The rain floated down from the white and open sky as you seek refuge underneath your umbrella. You gently step over the majority of puddles. The wind threatened to take your umbrella from your grasp but you sit with it folded over at the subway station soon enough. Your foot tapped aimlessly on the dirty cement floor littered with cigarettes and gum wrappers. You were wondering. Thinking. Hopelessly, but nevertheless. It was rush hour and thinking hopelessly was hard in overly-populated places. You felt chills run across your exposed skin every time a subway zipped past and into the darkness of the exiting tunnel. You held your bag close to your chest both for its safety and your desperate craving for warmth. Your head stay hung in its place before you heard a subway tube slow to a stop at the station and you pricked up. Shit, shit, shit. Your mind raced and you hopped up. Hopefully you'd get there in time for a seat or at least a place to stand. The crowd flooded over to the platform and so did you, joining them all. You grew worried at the fact you were at the back of the swarm; even more so when you got to the door. You were just about to squeeze into the small gap of the subway until a tall man rushed past, bumping you to the side and rushing in instead. You stood there for a moment, shocked at his lack of manners before turning sour and confronting him. "Excuse me? What do you think you're doing!" Your voice reached a shrill which he heard over the crowd. He seemed just as surprised as you and he turned around suddenly. His hair was platinum blonde and a confused look was plastered against his distinct features. "Oh, I'm so sor--" His sentence was cut off by the sound of the door closing quickly with a soft thump. You jumped at the realisation, tapping the door with your hand but knowing it wasn't going to stop. The gust of wind left behind lifted up your hair as you stared at it leaving. You looked down at yourself, your heels soaked and your jacket letting the draft in.

It had taken another two hours before a new train reached your destination to take you home. You were still silently seething with rage thinking about the guy who pushed you away to get in to the last one. Although, he did seem sorry about it, at least. His face seemed like it had the potential to be scary. His eyes really locked with yours, didn't they..? Your thoughts halted as the subway did. Suddenly. The passengers (including yourself) looked around confused, because this wasn't the stop they were supposed to be at. The speaker in each carriage buzzed, "Due to a mechanical error, the subway has stopped early. We apologise for any inconvenience." The voice faded off. Your eye twitched as everyone rose from their place, groaning. This was just bullshit at this point. How awful can a day get?