sinful. | ijb + ksg.

beginning.

hey!
can we meet up?

Months had passed since Seulgi saw that number. Her fingers, usually dexterous, suddenly forgot how to function.

She gulped thickly, swallowing the lump that formed in the back of her throat. Her pulse raced, beating so hard she thought it could be heard from the next room.

"Hey, Irene?" Seulgi hollered, voice on the verge of cracking.

"Yes?" Irene popped her head into the room, façade brimming with innocent curiosity.

"I'm going to meet up with a friend later. Is that alright?" Seulgi tried her best to remain calm, not wanting to send the wrong message to her girlfriend.

It seemed to be successful as Irene simply smiled. "Why are you even asking? Go and have fun with your friend."

Seulgi returned the kind expression until Irene left to attend to the laundry. Then it fell off her face, dropping at a rapid decline, as if it never existed to begin with.

Her thumbs buffered as they pressed each key.

i'll meet you at the usual place today.

She got a reply instantly.

great! see you. ;)

FLASHBACK

Wendy told her about this pretty chic record and café store the other day. Her best friend stated quite proudly that it was very lowkey and had the best collection of vinyls. Music played nonstop, and the ambience was a great way in losing yourself and forgetting your troubles.

Neck-deep in troubles, Seulgi decided to take a chance and check the place out. Wendy had amazing taste in music, so Seulgi knew it wouldn't be a wasted trip.

The record store was tucked away on a desolate street. For a Saturday, the location was barren. There were a couple of ahjummas and ahjusshis lurking about, dwelling into mindless chit-chat.

"How on earth did Wendy stumble here?" Seulgi asked herself, holding tightly onto her shoulder bag.

A cold gust of wind blew through her. The autumn coat strapped around her body was defenceless against the upcoming winter breezes.

Chimes could be heard above her head. Seulgi craned her neck, seeing a door that led to some stairs. There was a poster of a vinyl plastered crookedly on the glass facet.

"This must be it." She took a deep breath, then opened the door. Immediately, she was met with a strong whiff of caffeine and faint, lulling music from the 60s.

Although, her taste in music wasn't as vast as Wendy's, she recognized the humble beats of the The Beatles.

Cautiously, she crept up the dim staircase. If Wendy hadn't suggested the place to her, Seulgi would run away as fast as she could and not turn back for even a second.

When she reached the top landing, another door was held open by a stack of old Korean literature novels. Each one varied in thickness. She expected each spine and cover to be dusty, but they were all in remarkable condition.

She stepped inside, clutching the strap of her bag even tighter.

A man no older than her lifted his head from behind a tall counter. On one side there were stools with maroon upholstery. And behind the counter and all over the walls were shelves and shelves of old and new records. Seulgi had never seen such an ostentatious collection.