Chapter Text
you were at the busstop near your home when your phone pinged with a message from your friend. there's no text, as expected of taehyung, but it’s a picture. ever since getting the receptionist job in town, you were considering moving there, and your dearest friend of seven years had considered it his personal mission to send you any notices of rooms for rent while you were sorting out your life for an imminent move. this was another of his messages.
you saved the picture and zoomed in on it. it's s a picture of a flyer, probably from a notice board. ‘MIN YG, rental rm avail townside, nego, NO metalheads/druggies’ and a phone number is what it simply said.
you remember being slightly taken aback at the choice of words, and how…well…short-and-not-so-sweet the flyer was. now sitting at the busstop with the wind sharp and unforgiving against your face, you wondered if you should text this number and ask if the room was available.
2:06 pm
hi min yg, i saw your flyer about a room at city square station. is it available? :)
2:16 pm
yup come by today
2:17 pm
i didn’t say i would rent it for sure
the text bubble appears for a few seconds, before it disappears and leaves a message in its place.
2:19 pm
blk 367 brenner street 20-5
brenner street, thankfully, was in a safe part of the town, although by no means was it luxurious or lavish. tall pine and fir trees demarcated the streets, and the peach-and-white-coloured blocks had moss and mildew growing on their sides. they weren’t too high, and there were rows of shops not far away from the block you would (hopefully) be staying in.
you step into the lift up to the 20th floor, immediately bringing a clump of your sweater to cover your nose from the musky, sulfuric smell. a man brisk-walks up and stops the doors from closing with a nonchalant wave of his hand between them, pressing the button to the 20th floor, only to find out you’d already pressed it. you move to the corner of the lift and try to hide your discomfort.
you had the distinct feeling that the man was watching you in the reflection of the lift doors, when he mumbled a question that you wouldn’t have known was directed at you, had he not been looking at you through narrowed eyes.
“new here?"
forced to uncover your nose, you grunt sheepishly, “um, I came to talk to someone who’s renting out a room here."
the man raises his eyebrows for a second, and then turns away and goes back to being silent.
you both step out of the lift, and you march towards the 5th house on the right. you stare up at it, wondering if you should knock or ring the bell, or text the renter. you settle for knocking.
you knock until your knuckles start to hurt, and you ring the doorbell until you decide to give up. feeling conflicted, you feel like you should have at least had the decency to confirm your visit, even though the renter was very, very rude over text. but what if he was taking you for a lark? you reach around to take your phone from your pocket, when you hear a familiar voice from behind you that makes you jump.
“don’t bother.” it’s the man from the lift, resting his weight on one leg while staring at you through cold, cold eyes.
“huh... what?” you were at a loss, wondering who this guy was, and why he was so cryptic. suddenly, your mind races with a ton of questions. was he following you? from where had he followed you? and how long had he been standing behind you?
your jaw drops in disbelief as the man walks up to the doorstep, toes off his shoes with a resounding sigh, and unlatches the gate with a lazy flick of his hand. he slides another key into the door and turns the handle, looking over his shoulder with an infuriating smirk on his pale face.
“welcome to my humble abode. careful, there’re a lot of flies in the summer around here so you might wanna…shut your mouth,” he said before stepping into the house.
it's taking you a while to get over the shock that the 'MIN YG' you'd texted, you were renting a room out from, was the same guy that had been in the lift, and after that, watching you knock on his door for an eternity. your face feels warm from embarrassment, and you cross your arms, trying not to let your slip-up get to you.
you follow him into the living room.
“how did you know it was me?” you ask, careful to keep your voice steady.
yoongi swoops cushions from the floor and arranges the living room haphazardly, sneaking you a perfunctory glance. “I figured it might be you from your profile pic on WhatsApp, and as far as I know, I’m the only person renting out a room on this floor."
he sighs deeply and says with the straightest face, "Welcome to my mansion with three-hundred thread counts and a patio. I'll show you your room."
you follow yoongi, your feet barely making any sound on the clean, rectangular sand-brown tiles. he opens a door on the left of the hallway, and glances over his shoulder, jerking his head in the direction of the room. the first thing you notice are the double-hung windows. You imagine sliding the window up to allow in sunlight and the sounds of chirping birds, and stringing fairy lights at Christmas time. the walls are a vanilla white, and there are about 5 metres from the doorway to the windows, and the room itself is 4 metres wide. there's a single bedframe against the wall on the left, and a small coffee table and bench are in the corner.
yoongi sees your curiosity at the half-furnished room and speaks up. “this was originally an extra room, so I converted it to a guest room...but I wasn't having anyone over anyway, so," he shrugs.
he lifts his weight from where he's been leaning on the door jamb and sits on the bench.
“you know how I got this?" he mumbles, running his hands on the surface of the bench, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. you're totally clueless and you're wondering why yoongi's smiling at a piece of furniture.
"What...uh, IKEA?"
yoongi's head snaps up in a flash, his smile vanishes and his features twist. "the fuck, no? I made it."
he stares at you dolefully.
“okay...okay I'm sorry..." you hold up your hands as a show of peace, watching yoongi's eyes flicker to them, and back to your face. he abruptly stands and turns on his heel, ready to say something at the same time you find your voice.
“lemme know whe-"
“wait did you mak-"
he raises his eyebrows. you complete your sentence. “did you make all the furniture in this room..like..your entire house?"
yoongi relaxes a little. “pretty much," he nods gruffly, looking anywhere but you. “i’m an interior designer. I used to work as an architect."
you don't ask the unspoken question, knowing you were treading on thin ice.
“how many bathrooms are there in the house?" you ask, walking around the room, trying to get a feel for it. “two," is the answer. “no other tenants here?" you turn to ask him. he shakes his head.
“how much per month?"
"If we split the bills, and share a grocery fund, the deposit should come up to around $700. of course, I'm expecting it to run up to more but we’ll cross the bridge when it comes."
your head reels. you would take home around 2 to 3 thousand dollars per month, and the room wasn't completely furnished, which meant you'd have to get a mattress, vanity table, curtains, and god knows how long the list was gonna run. but if the deposit was already $700, you'd either have to skimp on your groceries, sell off some of your things, downgrade to a simpler phone or...let go of this gem of a room.
or you could make it work.