Black Label [EN]: Chapter 122

Black Label 121

122. Homelessness Crisis

D-1

The launch of Wall Flower’s Spring/Summer (S/S) season products, including the collaboration with Ryu Seung-ho, was now just 24 hours away.

First, Jaeseung visited the commercial building in Yeonnam-dong, soon to be christened ‘Wall Flower’s First Store.’

He’d virtually toured the interior countless times using 3D simulation programs like SketchUp, thanks to Nam Gwang-min, the employee overseeing the Yeonnam-dong store’s display and other offline locations, who constantly sought feedback.

Still, experiencing something through simulations is vastly different from seeing it firsthand, right?

“Wow….”

Stepping into the Yeonnam-dong store, ready for its soft opening, Jaeseung couldn’t help but exclaim. Nam Gwang-min, the visual merchandiser (VMD) standing beside him, asked with pride, “President, what do you think? Do you like it?”

Jaeseung simply said, “Yes,” then resumed his inspection, eyes darting around the store.

A video showcasing highlights from his past shows played on one wall, painted in two-tone white.

It began with Wall Flower’s minimalist debut, moved to Alexander King’s show where he was creative director, and culminated in the haute couture show at the Parsons·F.I.T competition.

Instead of a screen, the video was projected directly onto the wall using a beam projector.

It felt much better than a bulky screen.

The shiny marble floor gave the impression one should remove their shoes, and the glass ceiling amplified the dreamy atmosphere.

Long racks, evenly spaced, displayed all Wall Flower products, arranged chronologically by release year.

This was Wall Flower’s first brick-and-mortar store.

A space embodying the brand’s past and future, his own journey, and the dedication of his employees.

Examining the details, he was overcome with emotion.

Complex, indescribable feelings swirled within him, creating a bubbling sensation in his stomach, like swallowing hot stones.

The days of stealing designs and struggling to survive were over.

The Wall Flower store, built with his own hands, was a reality.

The dream from his past life had materialized before his eyes.

The road ahead still seemed long, but he also thought, ‘I’ve come this far.’

“…President?”

Nam Gwang-min’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.

“Yes?” he responded. Nam Gwang-min launched into explanations.

“I spoke with the consulting firm, and they confirmed employee training is complete. They said the staff were ready to go two weeks ago.”

Jaeseung sipped his takeout coffee and asked, “What about the free gifts?”

He had prepared several freebies for customers spending a certain amount.

Stickers with the Wall Flower logo, towels, cushion covers, and so on.

If you think no one wants such trinkets, you’d be wrong.

Look at Supreme. Their matchboxes, gloves, toothbrushes, and soccer balls given away as free gifts now fetch at least 100,000 won on the resale market.

Nam Gwang-min licked his lip and replied, “Director Song [referring to a company director] seems to have gone overboard. Half the boxes in the back warehouse are free gifts.”

“Song’s spending like crazy again, saying it’s not his money….”

Nam Gwang-min chuckled awkwardly. “Leaving them unused would be a waste, so I thought we could give them out generously and sell them near the checkout. What do you think, President?”

“Yes, that sounds good.”

He took another sip of coffee, then—

“Pfft-!”

He spat a mouthful of Americano onto the pristine marble floor.

A man beyond the show window was filming him with his smartphone.

The man, in a baggy hoodie, smirked as he filmed.

Even as Jaeseung coughed and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, the filming continued.

“President, are you okay…?”

Unable to answer, Jaeseung pointed towards the show window.

Nam Gwang-min followed his finger, then recoiled in surprise. “Wh-what is that?”

Nam Gwang-min frowned and strode to the entrance.

He flung open the door and confronted the hooded man. “Excuse me, were you just taking pictures?”

Still startled, Nam Gwang-min’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp.

The hooded man, flustered, waved his hands. “Ah, I’m just a fan of designer Lee Jaeseung….”

Jaeseung never imagined being ‘secretly filmed’ by a middle-aged male fan, despite not being in a girl group.

He looked to be about the same age as an uncle.

Perhaps sensing no ill intent, Nam Gwang-min’s tone softened.

“If you want a photo, I can take a good one for you. Would you mind deleting the ones you took earlier?”

When Nam Gwang-min spoke politely, the man replied, “Ah, yes. I’m sorry…,” and began deleting the photos.

Jaeseung, now outside, carefully questioned the man. “Excuse me, how did you find out about this?”

“Yes?”

“Did you just happen to be passing by and take a picture?”

Jaeseung paused, then asked, “Or….”

He noticed a ‘trunk bag’ beside the man.

The man scratched his head, embarrassed. “I’m standing in line?”

Jaeseung and Nam Gwang-min stared blankly, then Jaeseung asked, “Is there a limit to purchases per person?”

Nam Gwang-min, regaining composure, said, “Yes, there is…,” glanced at his watch, and asked, “There are still 24 hours left? You’re waiting here for a whole day?”

The man smiled brightly, shrugged, and said casually, “Waiting 24 hours is nothing. The early bird catches the worm, right?”

* * *

From that first customer, the line grew steadily. By 6 p.m., dozens had gathered.

The crowd was diverse, and most were well-prepared.

Some had set up one-person tents, others were in sleeping bags, and some even cooked ramen on portable gas burners.

The sidewalk in front of Wall Flower’s Yeonnam-dong branch resembled a campsite before the store even opened.

‘Reseller-Mark,’ first in line, picked up a large chopstick of ramen and blew on it.

He quickly stuffed the steaming noodles into his mouth.

“Keuh, ooh, it’s hot….”

He spat the noodles back into the pot. ‘Reseller-X,’ Lee Kyung-hoon, sitting next to him, shook his head. “Hey, is someone going to steal it? Eat slowly.”

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“You’re such a sneaky bastard.”

“What now?”

“You came early this morning by yourself to wait in line?”

‘Reseller-Mark’ shrugged. “Making money isn’t easy. Small business owners like me have to hustle. What else can I do?”

“What about that picture you uploaded to the group chat? The one with designer Lee Jaeseung. It looks like you took it inside the store. Do you have someone on the inside at Wall Flower?”

“Nonsense. If I did, would I be eating ramen here with a gun to my head? I would have told you.”

Lee Kyung-hoon chuckled sarcastically. “Yeah, right. A dog would laugh.”

“Okay, I admit it.”

‘Reseller-Mark,’ answered playfully, then said, annoyed, “Coming early was pointless. I talked to an employee, and they’re limiting purchases.”

“What? How much?”

“Up to 2 million won per person, no matter what. And only three collaboration items.”

“Ha, damn….”

“All I got from suffering this morning is going home earlier.”

Lee Kyung-hoon looked at the line behind him. “The people behind us probably won’t even see the collaboration products. We’ll have to be content with that.”

The line continued to grow.

Reporters filmed the waiting crowd, reporting in real time.

[If you’re a ‘fashion person,’ you have to endure this much. The ramen tastes great]

[‘Wall Flower x Ryu Seung-ho,’ homelessness crisis? Why are they going this far?]

[Do you know about clothing tech? A conversation with a professional ‘reseller’ in front of the Wall Flower store]

Among those waiting was a celebrity manager.

“Jihoon-ah [term of endearment], I got a spot, but I don’t think I can buy it myself….”

– Hyung [older brother/male friend], most people are reselling. I don’t care about the price, just get me the clothes.

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

– No, you have to get them, not just try? That’s why I said I’d stand in line myself?

“Hey! That’s not happening. Okay, okay. I’ll get them somehow, so don’t worry.”

The manager of the famous idol, ‘Kwon Jihoon,’ sighed. The new road manager asked, “Shall I buy some bread?”

“Okay.”

Kwon Jihoon, a fashion icon invited to seasonal shows of premium brands like Chanel, was obsessed with this domestic brand.

He couldn’t understand Jihoon’s obsession or the people in line.

Camping out for clothes?

“Gee….”

He sat on his mat, resigned.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

His phone buzzed with messages from Kwon Jihoon.

– Hyung, you have to get them. I’m begging you. If I do some celebrity marketing, I might get a collaboration offer….

– I really want the clothes. They’ll be impossible to buy later.

– Could you buy all the S/S season products? Please.

He sighed, replied, ‘Okay, don’t worry,’ and put his phone away.

He never thought he’d camp on the street to buy clothes.

Life was unpredictable, and the world was full of mysteries.

‘He’s eating ramen so deliciously.’

Gulp.

It would be a difficult night.

It was literally an untimely homelessness crisis.