❈ art gallery

@✻ ⋰ seokjin k. [] the fit: https://www.tomford.com/crackled-leather-zip-pocket-blouson/LBS020-LMN007F23.html cause he gotta look good enough for his man, and cause no self-respecting chaebol wouldn't have an obnoxious pair of indoor sunglasses to hide their identity: https://www.tomford.com/fausto-sunglasses/8921402961.html and the haircut ofc up to you if he's wearing a mask or not, go with what ur feeling

"I thought this would be a gallery worth sponsoring with Lotte, but perhaps not,"

He wasn't mad. Really. Jeongguk was just disappointed.

Or he was pretending to be. (Okay, maybe he was also pretending to be a little mad)

To the team of barely adults and those fast-approaching retirement age, Jeongguk was the latest in a very long line of inconsiderate, rich chaebol snobs who demanded the world cater to their every whim, and, unluckily for them, they were failing abysmally to satisfy his wants. What he wanted was a personal tour. He didn't want a tour led by the gallery guides, especially not by the greasy sponsorship coordinator that Jeongguk swore he'd seen at the lounge before. Yet this was all they were giving him.

No, Jeongguk had his eyes set on one person.

"Not if you can't even fulfil a simple request." He thought, let's make it slightly more interesting- let's involve money.

Jeongguk straightened, hands smoothing his soft leather jacket down, sniffing disdainfully as he, figuratively and literally, stared down poor Ahn Hyemi, sweating bullets from the absolute reaming he was giving her and her coworkers. "Get me Kim Seokjin, or you can be the one to explain why his employees cost him a 1 billion won donation due to their incompetence."

Her face paled, fingers clenching, despair pinching her pretty features. "I'm sorry, sir, we'll bring Mr Kim immediately." She said tightly.

"Yes, do. I'm not going to stand here all day," Jeongguk bit his tongue between his teeth, hiding the smile tugging at his lips, turning away from the young woman scurrying off to who knows where to fetch the man of the hour. Roleplaying was so much fun- it was amazing what a bad attitude and some name-brand clothing could do for you in places like this; it was well worth the withdrawal of already short funds in his meagre savings, if not for the vine(old meme- Jeongguk knew, but so, so fitting for his situation) then for the button pushing and 'affectionately bully daddy til he snaps' hour.

Jeongguk's hands clasped each other behind his back as he sauntered to an enormous doodle artwork of scribbles and childish sketches that stretched almost the entirety of a 6m? 7m? Long wall. It was certainly... Interesting. He adjusted his mask, leaning in close to squint at the writing on the wall.

Erm, honestly?

He didn't quite get it.

Jeongguk puzzled over the tiny plaque that seemed to try very hard to convince him that this was a 'representation of human ego and super-ego'; whatever the that meant. He saw a bunch of scribbles that looked okay together with colour splashed on it. If you couldn't tell, art wasn't his thing. Outside of knowing that, yes, that was indeed a pretty painting, Jeongguk's opinion wouldn't be published in a magazine anytime soon.

For Seokjin, though? he could be an art person.

He could at least try. He wasn't sure. Jeongguk wasn't holding his breath, nor should his not-quite-boyfriend slash more-than-just-a client. The only thing he was sure of was that a.) he'd gotten bored of Seokjin grumbling about not having anything to do at work and b.) Jeongguk, being the selfless, generous soul that he was, would fix that with the aforementioned button pushing.

Highbrow places like this were usually boring, so why not cause a little drama?

"You," He snapped his fingers at a spotty young receptionist, the young man having watched silently and wide-eyed throughout Jeongguks snarling, squeaking as he stood to attention. "Go get me a tea now. Black, splash of milk. I don't know why I even have to ask."

Dramatics were his specialty, after all.