GOLDEN-{SOOGYU}

ONE

It's actually a fine morning, Soobin thought as he sipped his coffee, sitting leisurely by his kitchen counter. 

The space is too cramped for a proper table, that's why. The whole apartment flat is so small you step inside and see the entire space at a glance; a small bed/sofa sits at the right to the shoe closet right at the entrance, and the left is a small door to the bathroom. The kitchen sits just in front of the entrance, separated from the sleeping space with a half wall. 

Soobin doesn't mind, really, since the only window large enough to look outside is the one just above the kitchen sink. The view is quite nice, him being on the third floor.

And he likes his home; he did the decor himself with the help of his friends, and the flat is in a nice location. He's willing to give up some space in exchange for that, and of course the cheap rent. He's almost broke after all.

He doesn't need that much space anyway now, living alone.

There used to be someone else, but he'd rather not talk about it.

He took a bite out of his toast and skipped through Spotify to settle on a slow song, admiring the blue sky outside the window, when he saw a black limo park at the curb, just across the street.

It's odd because even though the area is quite expensive, the apartments across the street consist of the same flat units as Soobin's own home, and normal rich people don't think of living in such small spaces. 

But normal people don't have limos, the ravenette thought, finishing his toast as he did the dishes and put on his coat, ready to leave for work. 

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Soobin works at a local antique store, which is rare in this part of the city (the "gay" part to be exact),  just at the corner of his apartment building, next to pride park, which is where all the lgbtq+ events happen.

He spotted the brick shopfront with its white, wooden windows while he strode down the cobblestone sidewalk, a newspaper tucked under an arm. 

He opened the door and greeted the young man sitting behind the counter already, Mr. Kim, then hung up his coat and started dusting the items on the shelves immediately.

Mr. Kim, or Namjoon, is only 26 years old, opposite of the typical antique store owner; he has a degree in arts and history from the University of Cambridge, and he has a really sharp eye spotting out fake antiques. He lives with his boyfriend Seokjin on the second floor of the same apartment building.

The store is illuminated in a warm glow from makeshift oil lamps and candles, and soft piano music played from the speakers. Soobin inhaled exaggeratedly the wooden, sort of polishing oil scent; he loves the vibe here, although it doesn't provide much of a salary.

He was polishing a brass bear paperweight when the door opened with a slight jingle, and someone walked in. "Welcome to Kim's antiques, what are you looking for?" the ravenette said absentmindedly, not even stopping his motions to address the customer. 

"I need a job."

"What?" Soobin looked up abruptly, almost knocking over the table as a boy with blond hair leaned against the doorframe, a slight smile on his face. He was wearing a long coat with a white knitted sweater and dark blue dress pants inside, hands smoothing out his hair that had small raindrops caught in it.