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"Hello, welcome to Sunny Side Thrift Shop, how can I help you?"
Seokjin was beaming today as always. He sat perched behind the counter with his head in his palm and a smile on his face as he welcomed the incoming customer, a man with pretty periwinkle hair and backpack on his back. He was a regular at Sunny Side.
Momo was in the back taking inventory, and he, ringing up another customer.
As he handed the woman her change and receipt, he gave a gracious bow and waved her goodbye. The fan oscillated back in his direction, but it only spewed more humid air in his direction. Seokjin couldn't wait for fall to swing back around in their heaven. July's in the thrift shop were always a hot, sweaty mess. Nonetheless, he loved his job. So he would never stop trying to approach each new day with a bright and sunny attitude.
Since his passing, he felt much much lighter. And the people around him felt his renewing aura wherever he went, no matter how little or great the contact was. His personality, in essence, was radiant. Seokjin was like a sun that rarely set.
"Can I help you out with anything?"
The man with the purple hair could tell what kind of person Seokjin was as soon as he approached him in the men's aisle with all thirty-two pearly whites bared, but that did nothing to lift his dampened spirits. He was stuck in the mud for some reason these past few days. Thinking about it only made him feel worse.
That's why he was here.
"Yeah," He admitted willingly,"a bit actually."
"Don't be embarassed. At least you asked for help, most people are too afraid or irritated to do that." Seokjin laughed, patting the man's shoulder, "Anyway, how can I be of your assistance today?"
"I'm looking for something...— for something..." He kissed his teeth, "Sorry, I don't know how to put it into words."
The man ran his hand through his hair, looking around at the beach-shop theme of the store. The worn wooden floors creaked under his sneakers as he shifted his weight, lightly dusted by sand. A ceiling fan whirled slowly above him, and a sweet island song drifted through the speakers. When he looked again, Seokjin —as his name tag read — was staring back expectantly with doe-eyes: one steel grey, one brown.
He sighed, pinching his nose-bridge, "I dunno, like. Just something new and young, something that makes me feel renewed? Does that make sense?"
Seokjin shook his head, "I'm sorry to say we don't really have anything like that in stock. Most of the stuff here is vintage clothing."
"Do you...?" The man also shook his head, dismissing himself with a shy grin. "Nevermind."
