Big hands and new scissors [part 1]
Title: Big hands and new scissors [part 1]
Characters/pairing: Junsu/Chansung
Rating: PG (it will change in each chapter)
Word count: 2362
Summary: Chansung graduated from his "cordi noona" (LOL) academy. Junsu is a big and talented fish in Korea's fashion industry, his hair salon considered one of the best in the country and his talent was what made him famous. He's Chansung's role model and all he wants is work together with Junsu. Is it possible?
Author's note: So, I guess this is my comeback to fanfic world... And I come back with my OTP =)) Actually, I got this idea from a shonen-ai manga, but I can't remember the title (I've read it a really long time ago). All I can remember is that they were working as hairstylists :'D hope it will be interesting.
He twitched, an irritating sound of an alarm clock waking him up quickly. Chansung stretched his limbs, trying to feel every muscle in his body to retract. He exhaled, hands reaching for his eyelids to rub the sleep off of them - he was actually eager to wake up this morning. Slightly nervous, but confident. It had to be done, this was his goal all along. Chansung has been mastering the secrets of hair styling for the past few years, trying to fight every obstacle in his way, because being a son of rich parents and choosing this kind of profession wasn’t exactly the usual thing to do in this society. While many of his friends chose law, business, medicine and other relatively proud professions to study, Chansung felt like a black sheep.
Nevertheless, his parents couldn’t really suppress his freedom as both of them were of the creative kind - like their son. Talk about genes. Chansung saw a slight disappointment in their eyes, when he said he wasn’t going to step into their architect caste, but at least they didn’t go berserk on him. He was the only child after all.
Chansung was down to earth, considering the fact he lived surrounded by luxury. His father would often note their son got a bit of that naive trait from his mother, making Chansung protest in disagreement. Opposite to his father, Chansung thought having a kind spirit wasn’t necessarily a sign of naivety. But their parents knew something about him very well - once he decides to do something - Chansung will do it no matter what. Maybe that luxurious upbringing had to do something with this occasional and specific stubbornness. Chansung wasn’t exactly as soft as others might’ve thought.
He smirked, getting on his feet. “This is the day...” The boy exhaled, closing his eyes for a longer moment. He could hear his mother talking somewhere downstairs - her voice was quite sonorous and loud. She was probably talking over the phone as Chansung couldn’t hear anyone else responding to her.
Chansung went to his closet, thinking what should be appropriate to wear for his intrusive job interview. He knew the hair salon he was going to weren’t looking for any new hair stylists, but that didn’t matter to him. Chansung had a goal and that goal was to get a job in one of the best hair salons in the entire country. Black jeans and a red leather jacket will do.
Kim Junsu was his role model since he got into the academy. Being one of the youngest and famous hairstyle designers in the industry, Junsu was sure one talented person. Chansung was younger than him and become as successful as him would be a dream coming true. Only lucky people got to work together with Junsu. But Chansung was more realistic, he knew luck had nothing to do with it and if you want something - you go and take it. Chansung was sure that one way or another he’d become a part of Junsu’s staff.
Chansung parked his car a bit further, he wanted to walk the rest of the distance. Cheongdam-dong was really impressive as it was full of brand names, expensive shops and fashionable people. Chansung hasn’t spent much time in here, despite the fact he had all means to do it, but he was too composed on his classes and self-study. Luxurious shopping time could wait, he wasn’t really excited about it. It was his mom who’d drag him together when he was younger.
Chansung halted, taking a good look at the building with mirror-like walls. It wasn’t possible to see anything what was inside of it. The only thing that had a see through glass was the entrance and automatic door. Chansung looked above the entrance, seeing Junsu’s name on a neat metallic signboard.
I can do this. Chansung nodded, feeling the first chills in his stomach to appear.
The smell of hairspray met Chansung’s nostrils as soon as he entered the building and paced through a hallway, noticing a pretty girl who probably was a receptionist. She was talking over the phone behind her desk, discussing some arrangements for someone’s appointment. The girl had brown shoulder length hair, her eyes deep and dark hazel. She nodded to Chansung, indicating for him to wait. In the meantime, he took a good look at the luxurious hair salon.
The interior design was minimalistic - white marble floor, black Victorian texture wallpapers, huge mirrors with light bulbs on edges and comfortable black leather chairs for clients. Everything must’ve been horribly expensive, Chansung quirked his eyebrow thinking about the cost of every single thing in this place. He looked at the stairs on his right and left - it seemed like there were more than 4 workplaces for each hairdresser in the second floor. He couldn’t see much, the reception hall was in the middle of what it seemed like a circle and everything was covered by a round wall except for the stairs.
“Can I help you, mister?” Her cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Uh, yes...” He looked at her name tag. “...Fei. Can I see your boss?”
“Did you have an arrangement?” She glanced at her computer screen.
Chansung knew it won’t be easy from this point onwards. He had no arrangement whatsoever and he wasn’t planning to leave without meeting his possible employer. “Actually, it’s a personal matter...” Chansung lied, ignoring the little mental angel on his right shoulder. If he had to be a sly bastard - he would do it.
“Personal matter?..” She cocked her eyebrow. Of course, Chansung thought, it probably wasn’t the first time someone had used such tactics.
“Well, he owes me a lot of money...” Chansung played with his Rolex, indicating he wasn’t a shabby boy. Though his demeanour overall screamed rich person ahead and this act looked quite believable.
“Listen...” She stood up, leaning closer to Chansung and wiggling her finger for him to do the same. “I know my boss doesn’t own money to anyone, he doesn’t do business with shady businessmen either, so you better tell me what you need now or I’m banning you from entering this building. Forever.” She whispered.
And Chansung thought he was a perfect actor. Obviously, this receptionist was well taught and possibly instructed by Junsu. “Do I suck that much?” He pulled away, scratching the back of his neck. There was no need to tell this little lady made him feel embarrassed.
“Oh no, you’re pretty good. It’s just I know our boss doesn’t deal with loan sharks.” She smiled, seeing Chansung slightly perplexed. “And you don’t look like one.” Fei grinned playfully. “So, what’s making you to take these measures to meet the great Kim Junsu?”
“I want to work here. I want to be his assistant or at least a part time employee.”
“Really? But we don’t have any...”
“I know, you have many great hairstylists, but I’m not going to leave this place because of that.” Chansung shook his head - this idea wasn’t pleasing him at all. “Can I see him, please?..”
Fei sighed, touching her cheek, thinking about the possibilities. “Alright, but don’t cry later.” She saw Chansung blooming in her eyes, his smile spreading across the happy face. “Oh boy...” She chuckled. “Follow me.”
Chansung was pretty sure he was quite reserved but as soon as they reached the second floor he could feel his insides turning against him, as if everything went on fire. Now he saw everything pretty well - 5 seats on the right side and the same amount on the left. There was a wall with a lot of photos in the middle of the room, which separated the huge space and made the “rooms” look smaller. Now that Chansung thought about it - architecture reminded of scissors. Relatively long hallway with a reception desk by the end of it, stairways leading from left and right, two round rooms in the second floor and a tiny wall of monochrome pictures separating everything.
Fei touched Chansung’s arm, making him stop. He blinked, looking at Junsu’s back, his profile showing up from time to time as he was cutting some girl’s hair. His outfit was black, jeans a bit lower than usual, revealing a purple belt and he had a white apron to protect his clothes from an excessive amount of hair. He was completely immersed in his job, not noticing Fei and Chansung behind him, thought everyone else seemed to take notice of a tall long haired boy Fei had beside her. “Junsu, this boy wants to work here.” Chansung thought she was too forward, but she probably knew what she was doing.
“Tell him I’m not interested. You know we have enough employees.” He mumbled, cutting off another strand of black hair.
Chansung was actually amazed watching his object of admiration work so fast and gracefully. It was like that until Junsu answered Fei a few seconds ago. “Well, you better tell him yourself, because he’s here.”
“In that case, I think he heard me.” Junsu didn’t bother to look at Fei and a hot blooded boy behind him.
There was no way in hell Chansung would leave just like this. It had to be a way to make Junsu pay attention to him. “I’m not leaving.”
“Really?” Junsu chuckled. “And what if Fei calls security monkeys?” Another strand fell on the floor.
“I’ll just cut them. I’m big enough to stand for myself.” Chansung could swear his nerves were on the edge when Junsu finally turned around without Chansung latching at his possible boss. His eyes were narrow, a playful smile decorating his tanned face. Chansung felt like he was looking at the cover of a magazine, maybe Vogue, but ten times less editorial and much more human and simply handsome.
Junsu stared him up and down, a smirk forming on his face. “You are big. Probably as big as my fictional security monkeys. Sit down and don’t bother me until I call you.” He turned away from Chansung and Fei, getting back to his previous work.
Fei winked at Chansung, mouthing a silent fighting, because she knew it wasn’t the end.
Chansung analysed every movement Junsu’s hands made really carefully, trying to learn something new just by watching him work. Chansung was like a sponge, absorbing everything. He also glanced at the small male, working beside Junsu. He had curly hair - probably done this morning Chansung guessed. He looked very feminine and he obviously was the mood maker as his client kept giggling. The next one to him working was a girl with pink hair. “How can you cut her hair like this, Kwon...” She chuckled, noticing Kwon’s client moving in her seat uncontrollably.
“It’s called art, honey. You’ll learn this someday, Jia. I believe in you.” His voice was high pitched, but maybe it suited his slim figure, Chansung smiled inwardly.
Chansung reverted his attention back to Junsu, who was about to finish his job. The girl stood up, amazed by her new look. She hugged Junsu before leaving, the latter smiling back at her. He watched as Junsu went to the sink to wash his hands and remove the cut strands of hair. Chansung was waiting obediently, there wasn’t much he could do.
Junsu swept the floor slowly, not paying attention to his surroundings. It seemed like Junsu was on save energy mode or maybe it was his character. Chansung was sure he’d find out sooner or later. He just needed to become a part of this scissor family. “Tall one, come here.”
Chansung’s eyes widened immediately as this order was meant for him. He jumped on his feet quickly, coming forward and standing a few steps away from Junsu. “What’s your name?”
“Hwang Chansung.”
“Are you related to the famous Hwang architect duo?” Junsu took off his apron.
“I’m their son.” Chansung couldn’t guess if it was a good thing or not, but at least it was something that seemed to pick Junsu’s interest.
“I see...” Junsu took a few steps closer. “Haven’t they told you they designed this place?”
Chansung’s eye size doubled. “No...”
“Bad son.” Junsu smirked, taking another step closer and touching Chansung’s long hair, running his fingers through the thick black locks. Chansung felt a bit intimidated as he didn’t know what the hell was happening at the moment, Junsu combing his hair back with his slender fingers. “Why aren’t you cutting you hair?”
Chansung looked somewhere above Junsu’s head. “It feels warmer in winter.”
Junsu’s unexpectedly loud laugh made Chansung twitch quickly, the later laughing even harder at this fearful movement. “You left it like that because it’s warmer that way in winter, seriously?..” Junsu shook his head, still amused. His face turned serious all of a sudden, grabbing Chansung’s chin and pushing it to the left side, lifting it up slightly and finally pulling away from the younger male. “You could be a model and yet you want to work as a hairstylist? A kid from a rich family. This looks almost like a fictional case.” Junsu placed his right hand on the backrest of the black chair to keep his balance.
“It’s not the first time I hear this.”
“And it’s not the first time I get a fanboy.” This statement was so blunt Chansung was caught completely off guard. But he was strong enough not to show it.
“Does me being a fanboy of your talent make me a bad hairstylist?”
“It depends on your own talent.” Junsu shrugged.
“So let me prove it.” Chansung kept pushing. It was now or never.
“Show me your portfolio.” Junsu demanded.
Chansung opened his bag and took out the black file full of photos with the best of his works. Junsu sighed, judging his pictures silently and making Chansung worry more with each second. “Not bad. Come at 8AM tomorrow morning and we’ll talk more. I have to leave now.” Junsu didn’t wait for his answer, he just grabbed his jacket and left Chansung.
“Okay...” He didn’t know how to react to this. It wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes either. He just knew this was his only chance.
Characters/pairing: Junsu/Chansung
Rating: PG (it will change in each chapter)
Word count: 2362
Summary: Chansung graduated from his "cordi noona" (LOL) academy. Junsu is a big and talented fish in Korea's fashion industry, his hair salon considered one of the best in the country and his talent was what made him famous. He's Chansung's role model and all he wants is work together with Junsu. Is it possible?
Author's note: So, I guess this is my comeback to fanfic world... And I come back with my OTP =)) Actually, I got this idea from a shonen-ai manga, but I can't remember the title (I've read it a really long time ago). All I can remember is that they were working as hairstylists :'D hope it will be interesting.
He twitched, an irritating sound of an alarm clock waking him up quickly. Chansung stretched his limbs, trying to feel every muscle in his body to retract. He exhaled, hands reaching for his eyelids to rub the sleep off of them - he was actually eager to wake up this morning. Slightly nervous, but confident. It had to be done, this was his goal all along. Chansung has been mastering the secrets of hair styling for the past few years, trying to fight every obstacle in his way, because being a son of rich parents and choosing this kind of profession wasn’t exactly the usual thing to do in this society. While many of his friends chose law, business, medicine and other relatively proud professions to study, Chansung felt like a black sheep.
Nevertheless, his parents couldn’t really suppress his freedom as both of them were of the creative kind - like their son. Talk about genes. Chansung saw a slight disappointment in their eyes, when he said he wasn’t going to step into their architect caste, but at least they didn’t go berserk on him. He was the only child after all.
Chansung was down to earth, considering the fact he lived surrounded by luxury. His father would often note their son got a bit of that naive trait from his mother, making Chansung protest in disagreement. Opposite to his father, Chansung thought having a kind spirit wasn’t necessarily a sign of naivety. But their parents knew something about him very well - once he decides to do something - Chansung will do it no matter what. Maybe that luxurious upbringing had to do something with this occasional and specific stubbornness. Chansung wasn’t exactly as soft as others might’ve thought.
He smirked, getting on his feet. “This is the day...” The boy exhaled, closing his eyes for a longer moment. He could hear his mother talking somewhere downstairs - her voice was quite sonorous and loud. She was probably talking over the phone as Chansung couldn’t hear anyone else responding to her.
Chansung went to his closet, thinking what should be appropriate to wear for his intrusive job interview. He knew the hair salon he was going to weren’t looking for any new hair stylists, but that didn’t matter to him. Chansung had a goal and that goal was to get a job in one of the best hair salons in the entire country. Black jeans and a red leather jacket will do.
Kim Junsu was his role model since he got into the academy. Being one of the youngest and famous hairstyle designers in the industry, Junsu was sure one talented person. Chansung was younger than him and become as successful as him would be a dream coming true. Only lucky people got to work together with Junsu. But Chansung was more realistic, he knew luck had nothing to do with it and if you want something - you go and take it. Chansung was sure that one way or another he’d become a part of Junsu’s staff.
Chansung parked his car a bit further, he wanted to walk the rest of the distance. Cheongdam-dong was really impressive as it was full of brand names, expensive shops and fashionable people. Chansung hasn’t spent much time in here, despite the fact he had all means to do it, but he was too composed on his classes and self-study. Luxurious shopping time could wait, he wasn’t really excited about it. It was his mom who’d drag him together when he was younger.
Chansung halted, taking a good look at the building with mirror-like walls. It wasn’t possible to see anything what was inside of it. The only thing that had a see through glass was the entrance and automatic door. Chansung looked above the entrance, seeing Junsu’s name on a neat metallic signboard.
I can do this. Chansung nodded, feeling the first chills in his stomach to appear.
The smell of hairspray met Chansung’s nostrils as soon as he entered the building and paced through a hallway, noticing a pretty girl who probably was a receptionist. She was talking over the phone behind her desk, discussing some arrangements for someone’s appointment. The girl had brown shoulder length hair, her eyes deep and dark hazel. She nodded to Chansung, indicating for him to wait. In the meantime, he took a good look at the luxurious hair salon.
The interior design was minimalistic - white marble floor, black Victorian texture wallpapers, huge mirrors with light bulbs on edges and comfortable black leather chairs for clients. Everything must’ve been horribly expensive, Chansung quirked his eyebrow thinking about the cost of every single thing in this place. He looked at the stairs on his right and left - it seemed like there were more than 4 workplaces for each hairdresser in the second floor. He couldn’t see much, the reception hall was in the middle of what it seemed like a circle and everything was covered by a round wall except for the stairs.
“Can I help you, mister?” Her cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Uh, yes...” He looked at her name tag. “...Fei. Can I see your boss?”
“Did you have an arrangement?” She glanced at her computer screen.
Chansung knew it won’t be easy from this point onwards. He had no arrangement whatsoever and he wasn’t planning to leave without meeting his possible employer. “Actually, it’s a personal matter...” Chansung lied, ignoring the little mental angel on his right shoulder. If he had to be a sly bastard - he would do it.
“Personal matter?..” She cocked her eyebrow. Of course, Chansung thought, it probably wasn’t the first time someone had used such tactics.
“Well, he owes me a lot of money...” Chansung played with his Rolex, indicating he wasn’t a shabby boy. Though his demeanour overall screamed rich person ahead and this act looked quite believable.
“Listen...” She stood up, leaning closer to Chansung and wiggling her finger for him to do the same. “I know my boss doesn’t own money to anyone, he doesn’t do business with shady businessmen either, so you better tell me what you need now or I’m banning you from entering this building. Forever.” She whispered.
And Chansung thought he was a perfect actor. Obviously, this receptionist was well taught and possibly instructed by Junsu. “Do I suck that much?” He pulled away, scratching the back of his neck. There was no need to tell this little lady made him feel embarrassed.
“Oh no, you’re pretty good. It’s just I know our boss doesn’t deal with loan sharks.” She smiled, seeing Chansung slightly perplexed. “And you don’t look like one.” Fei grinned playfully. “So, what’s making you to take these measures to meet the great Kim Junsu?”
“I want to work here. I want to be his assistant or at least a part time employee.”
“Really? But we don’t have any...”
“I know, you have many great hairstylists, but I’m not going to leave this place because of that.” Chansung shook his head - this idea wasn’t pleasing him at all. “Can I see him, please?..”
Fei sighed, touching her cheek, thinking about the possibilities. “Alright, but don’t cry later.” She saw Chansung blooming in her eyes, his smile spreading across the happy face. “Oh boy...” She chuckled. “Follow me.”
Chansung was pretty sure he was quite reserved but as soon as they reached the second floor he could feel his insides turning against him, as if everything went on fire. Now he saw everything pretty well - 5 seats on the right side and the same amount on the left. There was a wall with a lot of photos in the middle of the room, which separated the huge space and made the “rooms” look smaller. Now that Chansung thought about it - architecture reminded of scissors. Relatively long hallway with a reception desk by the end of it, stairways leading from left and right, two round rooms in the second floor and a tiny wall of monochrome pictures separating everything.
Fei touched Chansung’s arm, making him stop. He blinked, looking at Junsu’s back, his profile showing up from time to time as he was cutting some girl’s hair. His outfit was black, jeans a bit lower than usual, revealing a purple belt and he had a white apron to protect his clothes from an excessive amount of hair. He was completely immersed in his job, not noticing Fei and Chansung behind him, thought everyone else seemed to take notice of a tall long haired boy Fei had beside her. “Junsu, this boy wants to work here.” Chansung thought she was too forward, but she probably knew what she was doing.
“Tell him I’m not interested. You know we have enough employees.” He mumbled, cutting off another strand of black hair.
Chansung was actually amazed watching his object of admiration work so fast and gracefully. It was like that until Junsu answered Fei a few seconds ago. “Well, you better tell him yourself, because he’s here.”
“In that case, I think he heard me.” Junsu didn’t bother to look at Fei and a hot blooded boy behind him.
There was no way in hell Chansung would leave just like this. It had to be a way to make Junsu pay attention to him. “I’m not leaving.”
“Really?” Junsu chuckled. “And what if Fei calls security monkeys?” Another strand fell on the floor.
“I’ll just cut them. I’m big enough to stand for myself.” Chansung could swear his nerves were on the edge when Junsu finally turned around without Chansung latching at his possible boss. His eyes were narrow, a playful smile decorating his tanned face. Chansung felt like he was looking at the cover of a magazine, maybe Vogue, but ten times less editorial and much more human and simply handsome.
Junsu stared him up and down, a smirk forming on his face. “You are big. Probably as big as my fictional security monkeys. Sit down and don’t bother me until I call you.” He turned away from Chansung and Fei, getting back to his previous work.
Fei winked at Chansung, mouthing a silent fighting, because she knew it wasn’t the end.
Chansung analysed every movement Junsu’s hands made really carefully, trying to learn something new just by watching him work. Chansung was like a sponge, absorbing everything. He also glanced at the small male, working beside Junsu. He had curly hair - probably done this morning Chansung guessed. He looked very feminine and he obviously was the mood maker as his client kept giggling. The next one to him working was a girl with pink hair. “How can you cut her hair like this, Kwon...” She chuckled, noticing Kwon’s client moving in her seat uncontrollably.
“It’s called art, honey. You’ll learn this someday, Jia. I believe in you.” His voice was high pitched, but maybe it suited his slim figure, Chansung smiled inwardly.
Chansung reverted his attention back to Junsu, who was about to finish his job. The girl stood up, amazed by her new look. She hugged Junsu before leaving, the latter smiling back at her. He watched as Junsu went to the sink to wash his hands and remove the cut strands of hair. Chansung was waiting obediently, there wasn’t much he could do.
Junsu swept the floor slowly, not paying attention to his surroundings. It seemed like Junsu was on save energy mode or maybe it was his character. Chansung was sure he’d find out sooner or later. He just needed to become a part of this scissor family. “Tall one, come here.”
Chansung’s eyes widened immediately as this order was meant for him. He jumped on his feet quickly, coming forward and standing a few steps away from Junsu. “What’s your name?”
“Hwang Chansung.”
“Are you related to the famous Hwang architect duo?” Junsu took off his apron.
“I’m their son.” Chansung couldn’t guess if it was a good thing or not, but at least it was something that seemed to pick Junsu’s interest.
“I see...” Junsu took a few steps closer. “Haven’t they told you they designed this place?”
Chansung’s eye size doubled. “No...”
“Bad son.” Junsu smirked, taking another step closer and touching Chansung’s long hair, running his fingers through the thick black locks. Chansung felt a bit intimidated as he didn’t know what the hell was happening at the moment, Junsu combing his hair back with his slender fingers. “Why aren’t you cutting you hair?”
Chansung looked somewhere above Junsu’s head. “It feels warmer in winter.”
Junsu’s unexpectedly loud laugh made Chansung twitch quickly, the later laughing even harder at this fearful movement. “You left it like that because it’s warmer that way in winter, seriously?..” Junsu shook his head, still amused. His face turned serious all of a sudden, grabbing Chansung’s chin and pushing it to the left side, lifting it up slightly and finally pulling away from the younger male. “You could be a model and yet you want to work as a hairstylist? A kid from a rich family. This looks almost like a fictional case.” Junsu placed his right hand on the backrest of the black chair to keep his balance.
“It’s not the first time I hear this.”
“And it’s not the first time I get a fanboy.” This statement was so blunt Chansung was caught completely off guard. But he was strong enough not to show it.
“Does me being a fanboy of your talent make me a bad hairstylist?”
“It depends on your own talent.” Junsu shrugged.
“So let me prove it.” Chansung kept pushing. It was now or never.
“Show me your portfolio.” Junsu demanded.
Chansung opened his bag and took out the black file full of photos with the best of his works. Junsu sighed, judging his pictures silently and making Chansung worry more with each second. “Not bad. Come at 8AM tomorrow morning and we’ll talk more. I have to leave now.” Junsu didn’t wait for his answer, he just grabbed his jacket and left Chansung.
“Okay...” He didn’t know how to react to this. It wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes either. He just knew this was his only chance.