#ywcjames

— SO HE KNOWS THAT he shouldn’t lie, it’s one of the basic principles of life - and especially when it involved his older brother. but did he really have a choice ? there was no way james would do this on his own, so after a little manipulation on his end, he’s got the other out the house in a christmas sweater. “ i swear, this will be really quick ! apparently this .... uh, cafe has a deal that if you show up in christmas sweaters, your whole order’s free. pretty cool, right ? ” he only briefly looks james in the eye, because when he looks away his eyes fill with slight terror. youngest by nature were always slightly fearful of the older siblings, and taeho was definitely no exception. he wouldn’t be too angry when he realized what was going on, right ? he sure hoped not, because taeho knows well he’s a horrible liar and he really wanted these christmas pictures. there’s no time for second-guessing, however, because just up ahead lies the studio. it was now or never.

“ ah .... haha ! so um ... here’s the thing ! this actually isn’t a cafe. ” it was pointless to even say it, because right in front of them lies, very obviously, a studio. “ and we’re not actually getting food. instead, we’re getting ... pictures ! ” waving his hands in the air, taeho turns to his older brother with anxious anticipation. “ i know i shouldn’t have lied to you, but like ... daehyun’s my friend ! i wanted to support him, you know ? plus - we haven’t done christmas pictures in a while ! it could be cute, right ? ” looking up he awaits the other’s reaction, showing off his own decked out sweater as he does so. sure, it was only the two of them, but family was family and he didn’t know how effective trying to drag the rest of the chois out the house would be. this would turn out great, anyways ... right ?

Unlike so many others in Yangwon, Jaebeom has no issuewith Jojamart. If anything, he rather likes it. It’s one of a tiny handful ofplaces that reminds him of home; the shelves towering above, the almost clinicalwhitewash lighting and the mountains upon mountains of products make it almost identicalto the supermarkets on the other side of the world. Perhaps it’s because he’sgrown so used to them over the years that he struggles to understand the vocalopposition. Convenience at the cost of community doesn’t sound like the worst possibleexchange.

He learned early on that such an opinion is best keptto himself. One of his elders had made that abundantly clear when they beratedhim for it, stammered apologies be damned. Even thinking back to it cause hischeeks to flare a deep red, the memory alone enough to fluster him. And so whenhe makes his trips to the store these days, to top up on supplies or simply forthe sake of nostalgia, he times it so that he doesn’t cross paths with any ofthe other residents.

It’s peaceful as he wanders down aisles, plucking boxesfrom the shelves and quietly humming along to the muzak pumped through thespeakers. The store remains largely empty, with the exceptions of a few otherregulars and the staff. Usually he remains unbothered and uninterrupted, and todayis no different, but rather than leaving him to his own devices as he reachesthe register, an overheard comment from a nearby cashier causes genuine worry.

“I’m sorry, w-why would we be trapped?” He askscautiously, eyes darting nervously towards the door. “Is there… something wrongwith the locks? Should I be feeling.... concerned?”