Chapter Text
The loud bustle of Seri Hair Salon was always accompanied by the same chorus of scolding and laughter.
“Lee Minho, stop standing around and get to work already!” Changbin’s voice echoed through the salon.
Minho smiled until his eyes narrowed, comb in one hand and spray bottle in the other.
“Yes, boss,” he said cheerfully.
“Kim Seungmin, be gentler! You’ll make the poor customers bald if you keep pulling like that!”
Seungmin didn’t even look up, “if they go bald, they’ll just come back for wigs. Profit, boss. Think about it.”
The entire salon erupted in laughter.
“Bang Chan,” Changbin barked next, “smile more and be friendlier to the customers! You look like you’re about to fire them instead of styling their hair.”
Chan gave a weak smile to the lady in his chair, “sorry, ma’am, he means well.”
“And Lee Felix!” Changbin snapped, “stop laughing at everything and focus on your work!”
Felix was in the middle of braiding a little girl’s hair and giggled as she stuck her tongue out at Changbin, “see? Even the customers like me laughing, boss.”
Changbin groaned, rubbing his temples. It was always like this.
Being the owner and director of Seri Hair Salon, Seo Changbin has the privilege to yell and boss his workers around, but he also has to deal with their crazy antics every day. He loves his job, and he loves his workers.
Seri Hair Salon is one of the top salons in town, and the five of them, Changbin, Minho, Seungmin, Chan, and Felix, have been working together for years, and they’ve been doing great. There have been no major problems so far.
The salon bell chimed, and Changbin instinctively straightened his posture. He glanced at the door, and there he was.
Han Jisung.
The famous rapper who had been coming to this very salon for seven years. And as usual, he entered with the kind of energy that made heads turn.
“Welcome, Jisung! It’s been a while since your last visit,” Changbin greeted warmly.
Jisung smirked, striding confidently toward him. He reached for Changbin’s hand and stroked it gently, his thumb brushing over the back of it like he owned it.
“I have missed you, beautiful,” Jisung said in that flirty tone that made Changbin’s ears turn red.
Changbin snorted, though the blush gave him away, “save your lines for someone else, Jisung. Who do you want today? Lee Felix again?”
Jisung’s grin widened, “of course! Who else could handle me?”
Changbin raised a brow, “you mean your hair, right?”
Jisung winked, “both.”
Before Changbin could react, Felix came skipping over, having overheard.
“Did someone call for me?” his sunshine smile lit up the room.
Changbin gestured, “yes, dear. This troublemaker is yours.”
Felix clapped his hands together, “hi Jisung! It’s been a while. How are you doing?”
“I’m always fine,” Jisung said smoothly, sliding into the chair like he belonged there, “but now that I see you, I’m better. How are you, sunshine?”
Felix chuckled, shaking his head, “I’m good too. Ready for your haircut?”
“Only if you promise not to cut my heart while you’re at it,” Jisung quipped, earning a groan from Seungmin across the room.
“God, stop flirting in front of me. It’s nauseating,” Seungmin muttered.
Minho piped up, “Minnie, you’re just jealous no one flirts with you.”
“Excuse me?” Seungmin glared.
“Focus on your customer,” Changbin warned, but he was secretly trying not to laugh.
Back at Jisung’s chair, Felix was adjusting the cape around him, “so, same style as always?”
“Mm, maybe a little shorter this time,” Jisung said. Then he leaned closer, lowering his voice, “but don’t make me look too handsome. I don’t want every girl chasing me, unless you’ll be jealous.”
Felix burst out laughing, “you’re impossible.”
“Impossible to resist?” Jisung shot back immediately.
Changbin, who had been pretending to organize products nearby, muttered under his breath.
“Unbelievable,” but his lips curved into a smile anyway.
Jisung caught him in the corner of his eye and grinned, “don’t think I didn’t notice you smiling, cutie. You’ll miss me when I’m gone, won’t you?”
Changbin rolled his eyes, “I’ll miss the peace and quiet.”
The salon filled with laughter again, the kind of easy chaos that made Seri Hair Salon what it was. A family with a lot of noise, too much flirting, and just enough love to keep it all together.
***
“Good morning, Seri Hair Salon,” Changbin’s cheerful voice carried through the phone, “how may I help you today?”
There was a soft clearing of throat on the other end, “uh, hi, I’d like to make an appointment. Is that possible?”
Changbin tapped his pen on the reception desk, “of course. For when would you like it?”
“Today, if that’s okay. I’m really sorry for the last-minute call. I … I forgot until now. Um, I’m sorry.”
Changbin frowned slightly, but his tone remained kind, “that’s alright. We’re not fully booked yet. Do you have a preferred time?”
“Anything is fine. I can adjust.”
“Great. What about eleven? That slot is open.”
The caller hesitated before answering, “yes, that’s fine.”
“Alright, and under what name?”
“Yang Jeongin,” the voice replied, clearer this time.
“Got it, Mr. Yang Jeongin, eleven o’clock. May I know which hair designer you prefer?”
“I don’t know … what are my choices?”
Changbin quickly listed the available designers.
Changbin listed quickly, leaving Felix out since he was busy with Jisung, “we have Lee Minho and Kim Seungmin as assistant designers. And we have Bang Chan as hair designer.”
Jeongin paused, “uh … I don’t know any of them. I’ll go with … Bang Chan? I guess.”
“Okay, your appointment is with Bang Chan at eleven. Please be on time.”
“Yes, thank you. I’ll be there.”
“Bye,” Changbin hung up, jotting down the name. He glanced at the clock, then raised his voice across the salon, “Chan! You have a new appointment at eleven.”
Chan, who was neatly arranging his tools in a perfect row, looked up, “new?”
“Yes. A Mr. Yang Jeongin.”
Chan arched a brow, “did he say what he wants?”
“No. Just a haircut, I assume. Regular appointment.”
Chan muttered something under his breath but returned to polishing his scissors.
***
The morning passed with the usual noise. Minho and Seungmin bickering, Felix giggling with Jisung, and Chan silently frowning at a misplaced comb. By the time the salon clock hit 10:59, Changbin found himself glancing at the door.
It opened suddenly, and a young man stumbled in. Literally stumbled. His foot caught on the mat, and he nearly crashed into the waiting chairs.
Changbin blinked, ‘oh dear.’
The man straightened quickly, patting down his white sweater and jeans. His brown hair flopped forward, messy and uneven like it hadn’t seen a brush in days. His dazed expression didn’t help.
“Mr. Yang?” Changbin called gently.
Jeongin’s head snapped up, eyes wide.
“Yes! That’s me,” he hurried over, nearly bumping into the reception desk in his haste, “sorry I’m late—oh wait, am I late? No? Okay, good.”
Changbin chuckled softly, “Seo Changbin. I’ll be assisting you. Your hair designer is Bang Chan, over there.”
He gestured to where Chan stood, arms crossed, watching with a disapproving expression. Jeongin followed the direction, eyes widening slightly.
“Oh, um, hi,” he bowed too deeply, nearly smacking his forehead on the reception desk before straightening up again.
“Sit down,” Chan said curtly, pulling out a chair without a hint of warmth.
Jeongin nodded quickly and almost tripped again while sitting. His knee hit the chair leg with a thunk, making him wince, “ah! Sorry!”
Chan sighed through his nose, ‘this is going to be a long appointment.’
Jeongin fumbled with the black cape, trying to tie it himself before Chan had the chance.
“Stop,” Chan said flatly, taking the cape and fastening it around Jeongin’s neck with practiced hands.
“Oh, right, sorry,” Jeongin gave a sheepish smile, though Chan didn’t react.
“What do you need?” Chan asked, his voice clipped.
“Um, my hair … it’s unruly,” Jeongin muttered, touching his messy bangs.
Chan raised a brow, “that much I can see. Be specific.”
Jeongin blinked, “specific?”
“Yes. Layers, trim, color, style? What exactly do you want?”
“Uh…” Jeongin looked panicked, like Chan had just asked him to solve a complete case study for trial simulation.
“Can I just … have it look good? Like, the same, but less … chaos?”
Chan pinched the bridge of his nose, “fine. I’ll handle it.”
He grabbed his comb and scissors, muttering under his breath, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”
As Chan combed through his hair, Jeongin flinched at a tangle.
“Stay still,” Chan ordered sharply.
“Sorry! Sensitive scalp,” Jeongin said quickly, “my mom always said—”
“I’m not your mom,” Chan cut him off.
Jeongin pouted slightly but nodded. He tried to sit perfectly still, though his foot bounced nervously against the chair leg.
“Stop moving.”
“I’m trying! My body has a mind of its own,” Jeongin said helplessly.
Chan exhaled slowly, trying to summon patience, “Mr. Yang, this is not a playground.”
Jeongin ducked his head, “sorry. I’ll be good.”
Silence stretched for a few moments, broken only by the soft snip of scissors. Then Jeongin cleared his throat.
“So … um, do you always look this serious?”
Chan didn’t answer.
“That’s a yes,” Jeongin concluded, “do you ever smile?”
“Not while working.”
“Oh. So maybe after work?” Jeongin perked up.
Chan gave him a sidelong look in the mirror, “do you always talk this much?”
Jeongin grinned sheepishly, “only when I’m nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?”
“Because your glare could kill me?” Jeongin answered honestly.
For the first time, Chan’s lips twitched. Just slightly, almost like a little smirk, but gone before it could settle.
Jeongin noticed though. His eyes widened, “wait. Was that a smile?!”
“It wasn’t.”
“It was! Oh my god, I made you smile.”
“Mr. Yang,” Chan’s tone was sharp, but his ears turned faintly pink, “stay still before I ‘accidentally’ shave your head.”
Jeongin bit back a laugh, cheeks still glowing red.
***
When the salon door chimed again, no one expected the world to tilt for a moment. It wasn’t an unusual sound, customers came and went all the time, but whoever had just stepped in had an unusual effect.
The room seemed to pause, as if the air itself held its breath.
Minho’s comb froze mid-air, dangling dangerously close to a customer’s ear. Seungmin’s mouth fell open, words dying on his tongue. Felix’s hands stilled mid-motion, one palm hovering over Jisung’s hair. Even Chan’s sharp gaze, usually fixed like a blade, softened in the briefest lapse of concentration. In their chairs, Jisung and Jeongin craned their necks, blinking in unison at the newcomer.
The man was tall. His legs seemed endless in white slacks, his shoulders broad and filling out a tailored white shirt embroidered with subtle gold patterns that shimmered under the salon lights. His hair was styled in a way that looked like perfection disguised as carelessness, that maddeningly “I woke up like this” kind of mess.
His face … it was a masterpiece. Sharp angles tempered with soft curves, lips tugged into the faintest smirk as if he knew exactly the effect he was having.
He didn’t walk into the salon.
He arrived.
Changbin felt his jaw slacken, then snapped it shut so hard his teeth clicked. He cleared his throat, pulling professionalism around him like armor.
“Welcome, sir,” Changbin said smoothly, though his voice felt foreign in his mouth, “are you here for a service?”
The man’s eyes found his instantly. They sparkled with a dangerous sort of amusement. His voice, when he spoke, was low, smooth, with the warmth of honey poured over marble.
“Hello. I’m here for a keratin treatment, yes. My name is Jiniret de Hyunjin.”
“Jiniret?” Minho mouthed to Seungmin, who shrugged, equally confused.
Changbin stepped forward quickly, extending a hand, “I’m Seo Changbin, director here. Welcome to Seri Hair Salon.”
Hyunjin took his hand. His grip was firm, deliberate, lingering just long enough to send an odd shiver up Changbin’s arm.
“Thank you, Seo Changbin,” Hyunjin said, savoring each syllable of his name like it was a delicacy.
Changbin nearly swallowed his tongue. He cleared his throat again, fumbling for composure.
“Right,” Changbin said hastily, pulling his hand back, “um, who do you want to do your hair?”
Hyunjin’s gaze swept the room. He looked at Chan, eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing him. He glanced at Felix, who blinked back in surprise. He lingered on Jeongin, smiling warmly for a moment, before continuing.
Finally, his gaze returned to Changbin.
“I’d like you,” Hyunjin said simply.
Changbin blinked, “me?”
“Yes. You.”
The salon buzzed with a dozen unspoken thoughts.
“Is he serious?” Seungmin whispered.
“Director never takes walk-ins,” Minho hissed back.
“Except VVIPs,” Felix added, still clutching Jisung’s hair.
Changbin hesitated. He wasn’t a designer anymore, not really. He left that to his team. He only worked directly with a select few customers who demanded his touch. But something about Jiniret de Hyunjin’s unwavering gaze made his tongue betray him.
“Okay,” Changbin heard himself say, “this way, please. Mr … Jiniret?”
“Just call me Hyunjin,” the man replied easily.
Changbin nodded, “Hyunjin, then. Please, sit down.”
Hyunjin sank into the chair like royalty taking a throne, every movement fluid and measured. He glanced around with a faint smile, drinking in the chaotic yet warm salon atmosphere.
“So,” Hyunjin began, “how long have you been doing this?”
“Me?” Changbin asked, already reaching for the cape, “I opened this salon when I was eighteen, so about eight years now.”
“Ah, impressive,” Hyunjin said, sounding genuinely impressed.
“Thank you,” Changbin replied, tugging the cape a little too tightly around Hyunjin’s neck.
Hyunjin chuckled, “but you’re not a designer?”
Changbin hesitated, “not anymore. I prefer managing. I only design for special clients.”
Hyunjin’s smirk deepened, “am I special?”
Changbin’s fingers fumbled on the clasp of the cape. He cursed inwardly, “I mean, yes, of course. You’re very—”
He cut himself off, realizing how it sounded.
“I mean, you’re a customer. All our customers are special,” he finished lamely.
Hyunjin tilted his head, “it’s alright, Seo Changbin. You can say it. I know I’m special.”
Across the room, Seungmin snorted. Minho elbowed him.
Changbin wanted to roll his eyes but instead found himself smiling, “of course, Mr. Jiniret. Very special.”
“Hyunjin,” the man corrected, eyes glittering, “and before we start, may I have a glass of water?”
“Sure,” Changbin nodded and started to turn at Minho, "Minho, can you please bring some water?"
Minho immediately nodded with a sweet smile. He hurried away, returning with a tall glass of iced water, complete with a slice of lemon.
“Here you go, Mr. Hyunjin,” Minho said with his usual soft voice.
“Thank you,” Hyunjin replied warmly. His gaze lingered, “and you are?”
Startled, Minho stammered, “um, me? I’m Lee Minho.”
Hyunjin smiled, “thank you, Minho. This is refreshing.”
Minho beamed like he’d just been knighted.
“You’re welcome!” he retreated quickly, nearly colliding with Seungmin.
“What’s wrong with you?” Seungmin muttered.
“He’s just so nice and handsome,” Minho whispered.
Seungmin rolled his eyes, “pathetic.”
Back at the chair, Changbin began combing through Hyunjin’s hair. The strands were impossibly soft, sliding through his fingers like silk. Expensive cologne clung subtly to the air around them.
“Are you from abroad, Hyunjin?” Changbin asked, if only to distract himself, “your name doesn’t sound Korean.”
“You noticed? Very sharp,” Hyunjin said, “yes, I’m from Spain.”
“Spain?” Changbin repeated.
“Yes. But I’ve been here for some time. Business.”
“I see,” Changbin murmured, “it must be tough. Being away from family.”
Hyunjin shrugged, “it’s fine. I like it here. People are friendly.”
Their eyes met briefly in the mirror. Hyunjin’s gaze was warm.
Changbin flushed and quickly looked down, “anyway, do you visit salons often?”
“Not really,” Hyunjin admitted, “usually my personal stylist comes to me. But today, I wanted something different.”
“A conglomerate?” Changbin muttered before he could stop himself.
Hyunjin overheard, but he only chuckled, not saying anything. He kept his eyes on Changbin, watching him work in the mirror. It was a bit disconcerting, but Changbin tried to ignore it.
“So,” Hyunjin began again, “tell me, Seo Changbin—"
“Just Changbin is fine,” Changbin corrected automatically.
“Changbin,” Hyunjin repeated, rolling the name off his tongue, “do you have a boyfriend?”
Changbin nearly dropped his comb.
“Excuse me?”
“A boyfriend,” Hyunjin clarified, his expression innocent, “do you?”
Changbin didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t used to customers being so straightforward.
“No,” Changbin said finally, “I don’t. I’m too busy for that.”
“Too busy?” Hyunjin sounded disappointed, “what a shame. Everyone should make time for love.”
Changbin snorted, “easy for you to say.”
“Why is that?” Hyunjin asked smoothly.
Changbin gestured vaguely with his comb, “because you’re clearly not too busy.”
Hyunjin laughed, the sound low and rich, “not completely true. But perhaps I’m simply better at managing my time.”
Changbin raised an eyebrow, “is that so? Maybe you should give me lessons, then.”
“I could,” Hyunjin replied, his smirk returning, “but I think you’d rather I just ask you out.”
Changbin froze. His comb was stuck in Hyunjin’s hair, and he had to force himself to move it again.
“Ask me out?” Changbin repeated slowly.
“Yes,” Hyunjin’s gaze didn’t waver, “on a date. Would you like that?”
Changbin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He didn’t know what to say.
“I—I don’t date customers,” he managed finally.
Hyunjin tilted his head, “even special ones?”
“Especially not special ones,” Changbin shot back, trying for firmness but sounding a little too breathless.
Hyunjin sighed dramatically, “you were different.”
Changbin frowned, “different?”
“Yes. Different from the usual people. Most would jump at the chance to date a prince.”
The salon erupted.
“A prince?!” Felix squeaked.
“Like, a literal prince?!” Jisung nearly jumped out of his chair.
Jeongin choked on his own spit, “w-what—”
Even Chan’s hands froze mid-motion, scissors inches from Jeongin’s bangs.
Changbin blinked, “a … prince?”
Hyunjin waved a hand lazily, “just a small title. My father is the king of Spain.”
The comb slipped from Changbin’s fingers, clattering loudly onto the floor.
Hyunjin’s smirk deepened, “now … where were we?”