𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊
𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔞𝔲

Its 1942, Florence, Italy. Gucci is finally getting on the map after 21 years of hard labor. It's CEO, Min Yoongi, is getting paid just for breathing. Everything is perfect. But that changes when a certain journalist orders a package

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝒞𝐸𝒪

and so it begins...

“NAMJOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Hoseok yells excitedly, poking his head into his brother’s office.

“First of all, do not yell my name when I am, A, five meters away from you, and B, there are other people in here you fool!” Namjoon practically yells a whisper.

“It’s here! It’s here! It’s heeeere it’s here,” Hoseok begins to sing and dance around Namjoon’s office. “LALALLALALA IT’S HE-”

“Oh my fucking god pipe down ugly!” Namjoon rests in forehead in his palm barely trying to hide is annoyance with Hoseok at the moment. “Just open it,

before you give me a headache…”

Hoseok, too excited to care about Namjoon’s insults, sets the large box onto Namjoon’s cherry wood floor next to his desk. The box, though it seems like it’s just a small, lightweight box of cardboard, was quite heavy for such a small size,

and Hoseok’s relieved when he sets it down. In all of its glory, Hoseok, for a moment, just stares blankly at the cardboard box before him, just in awe at how it was his, finally his. Hoseok had finally owned his very first pair of Gucci shoes.

Hoseok, though he knew exactly what was in the box, was more than excited to open it as he frantically searched his brother’s desk for a pair of scissors, knocking things over left and right. Namjoon swears under his breath a few times, mentally scolding the older

for being so careless - hell he nearly knocked over his typewriter - but he knows that Hoseok has been anticipating this box for many weeks now. And though he won’t admit it, Namjoon is just as excited to open it as well.

Hoseok damn near stabs the box open with the sharp end of the scissors, nearly giving Namjoon a near attack in fear that the older may hurt himself, but Hoseok doesn’t bat an eye and attempts to cut the tape securing the box. It takes him a few minutes, but he manages.

Once he dissembled the box, to Namjoon's surprise, there was another box inside of it. Hoseok, however, was unfazed, and was already at awe at simply the gold print before him, reading the word Gucci at least 50 times before he dares to even continue his unboxing process.

He takes the lid of the box with two hands, careful to not hold it too hard or drop it, and Namjoon is amused. He keeps silent, however, as Hoseok sets the lid down carefully, only to turn around practically rip the protective paper from the pair of shoes

Once he paper is removed, Hoseok can't help but nearly drool at the sight of his new shoes before him. He had done all the research: hand-sewn seams, clean leather, polished nearly every day, and straight from Florence. He was amazed at the condition they came in,

having such a long journey all the way to Seoul. Hoseok, though he knew he could never fly to Italy himself, often liked to think about what he may do should he go there. He imagines simply walking down the street, covered in Italian designer labels,

possibly even friends with the creators. He imagined being basically famous in Italy, everyone would clear the streets just for him. Boy, he sure could dream. And now, he finally has his first article of clothing of his outfit, the one he plans to wear down the streets of Italy.

His marvelous thoughts are interrupted though, as he finally registers Namjoon's screaming at him, holding the shoes right up to his face.

"HYUNG! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING RIGHT NOW? LOOK AT THEM!!!"
Hoseok blinks a few times before he realizes what Namjoon was talking about

"W-what the fuck..." Hoseok exclaims as he snatches the shoes from the younger's hand. "No, no this can't be right I... there has to be some sort of mistake."

"Yeah, the shoes," Namjoon chuckles sarcastically.

The left shoe was bent and worn, as if it had been owned previously

At this point, even Hoseok can't come up with some sort of excuse or reason for why the hell the shoe is worn. His last few brain cells aren't very useful lately.

Namjoon, though he tried to hard to contain it, can't help but burst out laughing.

"WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?"

"Cuz these shoes are CLAPPED!" Namjoon is nearly in tears, "Its not even both shoes it's just one!" His face turns into a tomato, "like how the fuck do you even do that!"

And he falls out of his chair, still laughing like a manic

"SHUTUP UGLY! GET UP OR I'LL STEP ON YOU!!"

“This is bullshit, I’m writing a letter,” Hoseok exclaims as he paced back and fourth in the younger’s office.

“What’re you gonna say? ‘Y’all gave me some worn ass, clapped ass shoes’” Namjoon says wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Scoot over”

Namjoon complies as the older sinks into his leather desk chair, eyeing his type writer. He suddenly leans in and rests his fingers over the cool metal buttons

“Dear... Gucci,” He begins. A hard chuckle escapes Namjoon’s throat and the older shoots him a look before turning back

“My name,” he writes, “is Jung Hoseok. I am a writer for News Hit newspaper- ah goddamnit I spelled newspaper wrong,” Hoseok groans.

“How the hell do you spell that wrong? It’s 9 letters fool-“

“Just close your mouth and help me find some white paint,” Hoseok sighs.

This was gonna take awhile...

~~~

“Well, I’d like to think that I can give the label quite an upbringing.”

“Sir!” Another reporter exclaims, “and how do you propose you’ll do that? How much do we have to look forward to?”

The man smiles fakely at the reporter shoving a microphone to his face.

“Gucci already has developed quite the name for itself, no? All we can do now is go up, and we’ll start by making things global.”

“And where shall you start with globalizing the company sir?”

“Ever heard of New York?”

As the sound of this, the reporters start to buzz even more

His manager, however, is quick to notice and figures they won’t go away without force.

“Okay everyone, that is enough questions for now,” the soft boy starts. “Min Yoongi won’t take anymore questions for today.”

“But wait one more!”
“Sir are you refusing our questions?”

Yoongi heard the questions turn from good to bad quickly, but he figures it would be wisest to leave them be. Security leads him out of the hall and through a secluded exit, his manager trailing just behind him. They quickly reach the car and the two slide into the back seats.

“Where to, sir?” The driver calls behind him.

“Home.”

“What? But Mr. Min we have a few more interviews scheduled for today. There is one with a big reporter in about an hour from now, we should be able to make it if w-“

“Jimin.”

The soft boy looks up from his clipboard,

undoubtedly scared, and Yoongi never usually calls his name in such a way. Hell, he barely even calls him name.

“Y-yes sir?” He fumbles over his words, fearful that the older may lash out at him at any moment.

“I’m done with interviews today, I just want to go home.”

The younger nervously adjusts his glasses resting on his nose. "I-I see.. uhm, well then we can.. continue this tomorrow, yes?"

Yoongi groans, but complies.

"Wondeful," Jimin replies, scrbbling something onto his clipboard. Yoongi just looks out of the window, annoyed.

Though he would never admit it to the reporters, he hated having these interviews. Having so many people wanting his attention all at once was stressful, it was almost as if they thought he could somehow be multiple places at once. Well, really, that's kindof what it was like

It was never like this before, as Yoongi was never meant to own the company in the first place. It is only because his older stepbrother died, in which he was the only son left to take the job. And he hated it everday, despising his stepfather for forcing it unto him

Working everyday, all day, no breaks, was not worth it to him. He didn't care about the money.

He wanted his life back, the one where he could relax for just a moment.

It's why he called off the rest of the day's interviews, he wanted some time to himself, even if for a moment

Though, he knew it'd have dire consequences. His schedule would be twice as packed tomorrow, no matter how smoothly his manager tried to arrange it.

And still, he continues riding home, not even batting an eye.

~~

"So let me get this straght: you want to write an article about Gucci based on your beaten shoes," Seokjin says blankly.

"Essentially, yes," Hoseok vigorously nods.

Seokjin drops the papers onto his desk and leans back in his chair, sighing. 'Why are you like this.."

"What do you mean?!" Hoseok sits up.

"Jung, listen to me. An article is an interview, a newspaper, or a report. *This* is not an article," he points to the thick parchment paper, "this is a review."

"And?"

"And I won't publish it!"

"But why~" Hoseok whines.

"Because I publish *articles* Jung, not reviews. You can publish the review your damn self, good luck with getting money!" Seokjin tosses the papers back to Hoseok's lap and continues with his work.

"Okay, and what if I turn it into an article?"

Seokjin looks up, "and tell me, Jung, just how will you do that?"

"Well a real article has an interview, right?" Seokjin nods. "Alright, so I'll interview Mr. Gucci!"

Seokjin exerts a dry laugh, "yeah, good luck with that."

"I will!"

"With what money, hm?"

He thinks for a moment. "I'll gather all my savings... and maybe ask Joon for help."

Seokjin laughs, shaking his head, "you can leave my office now, Hoseok."