IQ148 // namjoon ✔️

__NOVEMBER__

November; 2013

One thing that NamJoon understands in life is that everything happens for a reason.

The universe is not as chaotic or sporadic as people view it to be, but rather runs by an orderly, pre-planned agenda that occurs at the worst possible times; not chaotic, but ironic.

It is a law that every average man knows, but takes the openest of minds to accept.

NamJoon didn't know it then, but he does now. He realizes the events beforehand on that chilly day were leading him there; the place, he could say, where he learned right from wrong.

He wasn't planning on walking into the bookstore; he had other chores to run.

But the antique ambience of the building made NamJoon take a second glance.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and new books flooded out of the open doors and mixed together in his nostrils. The two subtle scents together overwhelmed his senses.

As he neared the window of the bookstore, the smell of coffee subsided, giving the indication that it was coming from somewhere else; the cafe next door.

But nevertheless, he peered through the window, the sight of books more appealing than the smell.

At first glance, it was just a worn down bookstore, carrying years of history in its walls. He's heard of the Daeo bookstore before, but he's never seen it for himself.

NamJoon half expected the interior to be just as worn down as the sign out front, where the words were halfway faded away.

But upon walking through the door, he realized that although worn down, there is still a beauty to it that can't be touched by time.

Maybe it was the tranquility of the ancient hanok. NamJoon felt as though he had literally stepped back into time. The soft, faded blue color of the walls that make up the building wasn't overwhelming. The shelves provided a shelter that he didn't know he was craving for.

Or maybe even the arrangement of everything that brought contentment. The walls were adorned with historical artifacts and framed newspaper articles that feature the bookstore as a topic. The books were shelved by a certain system that's visually apparent, and pleasing to the eye. It's almost satisfying in a way.

Or maybe it was the serene atmosphere. The only sounds that could be heard were the creaking of wooden boards whenever NamJoon put all of his weight in his step, the sound of a fresh pot of coffee being brewed somewhere, and the high pitched chirping of birds that cut through the silence.

Birds?

He ventured deeper into the bookstore after paying the cashier the conventional fee, the same way a person pays to enter a museum exhibit. He ducked his head to avoid the low-hanging shingles above the era styled sliding door.

Here, NamJoon found that the bookstore opened up to the blue sky. It was a tiny, open space, but it still held so much.

There was a red CD player in one corner, and a piano in the other. An old water pump climbed up the side of the courtyard. A multitude of clay kimchi pots took up one side of the square, with some potted chili pepper plants scattered around. Even more books were stacked here, almost acting as walls themselves.

It looked like a cluttered mess, but it also oddly felt like a home away from home.

A world within a world.

Compared to the larger seating area inside the bookstore, a single wooden table and two stools were placed in the center of the courtyard; away from the prying eyes of others.

NamJoon took a seat on one of the stools. He didn't let the fact that the stool across from him being empty affect him.

Instead of staring at the empty stool, he observed his surroundings; the history and comfort around him. The nostalgia of it all kept him glued to his seat.

He didn't remember the last time he just sat down and took everything in; a breather from his hectic schedule. He looked up at the open sky right there for him to see.

Looking at the sky, he could be anywhere in that moment. Suddenly, the bookstore was no longer just a bookstore.

It held the world, and NamJoon just had to open his mind like the open ceiling to imagine the possibilities.