nebula || jungjaehyun

⇢ packs ⇠

04 

packs 

His fingers itch again. He clenches his hands, begging his eyes to tear away from the Marlboro packs behind the counter. He catches the cashier's gaze and flashes her a smile. 

His feet drag him to members, where they wave goodbye to the handheld and turn off the live-stream. A manager pockets the phone, and Jaehyun sighs. 

If only there weren't so many people around -- he has enough cash on him for two more packs. 

Instead, he chucks a piece of nicotine gum into his mouth and watches the members wander the convenience store. They're laughing, tossing chip bags at each other, whispering by the freezers. 

As Doyoung grumbles about the photographer that's been following them around all day, Jaehyun thinks about his intense skincare routine to distract him from his itchy fingers. And he thinks about the monetization of appearance -- in this business, pretty sells. By that standard, Jaehyun supposes he's a valuable commodity. 

He peeks at the Marlboro brand over his shoulder. 

"Um," a voice says. 

When he glances over, there's a girl staring at her fidgeting feet. She's tiny. 

"Excuse me." She points vaguely. 

He assumes she's a fan and stands straighter. He plasters a smile on his face, delivering his dimples, and awaits her request for a signature. 

She shuffles forward. "Um, I'm sorry but -- I need behind you." She gestures to the cleansing face mask packs hanging behind Jaehyun. 

His ears burn and he releases an uneasy chuckle. "Oh, sorry." He steps aside. 

For some reason, he watches as she shoves five packs into her basket, which is already stuffed with snack bags and feminine products and drinks. 

She's just so tiny. Her shoulders disappear beneath her olympic blue sweatshirt; her delicate, pink-knuckled fingers two-thirds-hidden in the cuffs; her pants baggy at her legs taper into paper-thin ankles that vanish into loose slippers. 

Jaehyun feels like a giant, the wolf that demolishes with a single huff. He suddenly realizes he's holding his breath. 

With another quiet, "Excuse me," she bows past him and takes her things to the counter. 

When the members tug his arm, he's not staring at the Marlboro cigarettes but rather at the grape-fruit scented cleansing face mask packs. He forgets his itching fingers.