By the fourth day, Jumin's blocked on his phone. He's at the end of his wits, fans in person that have all but physically harmed him, horrible shows that have ended in life and career threatening injury and none come close to how abhorrent and obnoxious Jumin Han manages to be through a simple text messaging program. To think, all of this started from one idiot speeding up behind him like a madman.
Even without speaking to him or being here Jumin manages to ruin his day with the constant reminder debt hanging overhead. His house is suddenly too cagey, too cramped, there's a buzzing in his limbs where they shouldn't be. Cleaning was always good at clearing his mind; seeing the mirrors sparkle to a shine and having the house smell of pine and cleaning chemicals should leave him with a feeling of accomplishment. After a half hour he's tossed every chemical and utensil back into their shelves, thrown on some clothing and escaped the house before he goes mad.
His feet guide him to the grocery store - of all the things to do when he gets into debt the first thing he wants to do is spend money; whatever. Compared to fifty grand what's ten dollars going to do? He snatches some things he doesn't need but instinctively wants; tea, cookies, soda, two big bags of candy and potato chips. Completely irresponsible, good. He needs that, he doesn't want to think about the next five years of his life.
He turn does a sharp turn down the aisle and crashes chest first into the someone.
She yelps and falls to the ground, the items from her basket scatter all over the floor; he can't be making a habit of this. "Oh," She whispers, "I'm so sorry, I-I'll try to start watching where I'm going."
"You're fine, my fault." He groans and kneels down to help her retrieve her things, simple pastas and quick, cheap foods; she scrambles alongside him to get everything back where it should be. He can't be making a habit of inconveniencing people like this, he'll end up in bigger trouble than he already is.
"I'm sorry -" She says, pushing her blonde hair back and giving him an honest, shy smile.
A sharp pang of guilt hits him, doubly so since the same feeling that got him into this situation in the first place. But, a lack of ease is no reason to let one's manners diminish - in theory, at least. He helps her back up to her feet and she flattens down her sunbeam yellow skirt. "It's no problem, really."
"Thank you so much, I mean it." She offers him her hand in greeting. "My name's Rika."
"Zen," He smiles and shakes her hand; Rika looks younger than he first thought but there's a brightness to her features that makes it difficult to tell. The dress she wears is something one would think an older flower girl would, graceful and reminiscent of prairies and simple times.
"Oh, Zen? I remember you, I was at one of your performances." Rika looks away and mumbles through the sentence, as if it's difficult to speak. Most fans would scream at the top of their lungs from the prospect of meeting someone like him in the flesh and be begging for an autograph or something by now. From there, she doesn't seem to know what else to say and walks towards the cash registers, Zen follows without a real plan.
Zen isn't sure whether to be happy or sad about meeting Rika. It's nice dealing with someone quiet and reasonable for a change but on the other hand he's shuffling alongside her to the exit, which means heading home. Abandoning her now after they've shared names would just feel off.
"Zen, why are you following me?"
Ah, he must seem threatening. "I'm sorry, I only came in here to get this stuff, I had nothing else to grab."
Rika makes a humming sound, nothing scandalous or chastising about it. More the noise of someone ruminating on what they've been told. The cash registers come into view, only one is open and its manned by a balding man whose face is turning three different shades of red at the nose.
"What the hell is all this?!" He says and motions to Rika's remaining things and the line of people waiting for Rika, many of them grumbling to themselves or others or tapping their feet and checking their watches.
"It-it's not too much, is it?" Rika says and it isn't much, just a few cans, some produce, a couple bags worth of home and food things.
The man's hit a crescendo and Rika's retreats. She grabs a few items from the register, sniffling a little. How much a massive prick could this guy be. Zen steps in between the two of them and the cashier suddenly quiets down.
"Hey, listen, she just went to the back for half second to get the last of her things. Calm down."
"Zen, please don't." Rika mumbles, shoving a ham steak back into her overstuffed basket. She's got tears cresting at the corners of her eyes and keeps her head low as she can, hair covers her face. This cashier did a number on this poor thing and the people behind her don't seem too happy either.
"Look, blame it on me, I wasn't watching where I was going and we walked right into one another, I apologize. Just let the girl pay for her things and relax, alright?"
The man sneers as if he's got some paragraph long angry speech but he cans it at the last moment and does as he's told, and checks out Zen's stuff right along with Rika's.
"It's separate." Zen says.
The man hums and keeps going.
"Don't worry about it, I'll pay for it." She handwaves.
Rika's either kind or sharp; he was half a second from giving the cashier a piece of his mind. "You don't have to do that-"
"I want to." She smiles in appreciation. The cashier makes it a mission to bag all of Rika's stuff first and moves quick.
"You sure?" He motions to the cashier; guys like him don't make him feel good about women like Rika heading outside without someone nearby to help.
She shrugs it off. "It's a good frame of mind for any situation, I find, to know where one stands. That man hates me and he isn't going to quit anytime soon but of I can't change it and I don't want it, the best thing I can do is wait it out. Not much I care to do about it anyway and not much I do is going to change his mind. Best to stay as I am." She says as if the man isn't even there with the sort of air of confidence of an actress. Zen half smiles at her, she's an interesting one. She picks up her bags and strides out the store.
The cashier silently moves on to bag Zen's things. The more he thinks of it, the more positive a frame of mind it 's worrying, but he's sitting on his ass doing nothing, but on the other hand there's nothing he can immediately do. Rika is completely right, he's not taking things one day at a time and he isn't being stable.
He scans for Rika, finds her about to walk out of the store and catches up. She comes to a stop, her lips straightened into a thin line and foot tapping. "Thanks Rika, that helped me."
"Helped you?" Rika asks.
Zen takes her palm and presses a kiss to it, her skin is soft and warm. She doesn't play coy or shy away as other girls would, in fact she doesn't do much of anything. Zen meets her eyes and she hums, though her lack of expression makes it difficult to tell whether she's pleased or disturbed beyond speaking. If she has anything to say keeps it to herself even after Zen releases her hand. The moment he lets her go, she turns and leaves.
The entire time walking home he can't help but wonder about that strange young woman.