Squeaking as the satin button-down flops onto his head and drapes over his eyes, Brendan shrinks and yanks the fabric off his head. He examines it for a moment, frown tugging on his lips as his thumbs toy with the texture—he shivers a little at its touch. Ehh... When the jacket flies over the door, he flinches once more, exhales sharply and then hangs the shirts on the bar of the dressing room before he rips off his shirt.
Truth be told, he hardly has any idea why he agreed to this stupid mall thing, too; he hates spending money, especially on himself, and...and all of these clothes—God. Of course, saying no to Michi is like trying to wrestle a bull, so when the idea was proposed to him, well...he had to say yes, yeah? Not like he had anything to do tonight.
Smoothing out the shirt once he has finished fiddling with the buttons, Brendan tilts his head to one side, staring down at the fabric. He...he doesn't know, but he supposes he can't decide until he heads out and examines himself in the mirror. Sliding on the jacket, he puffs out his cheeks and turns heel; he creaks open the door, sticking his head out first, before he timidly lets the rest of his body follow suit.
Gulping, the brunette tiptoes towards the mirror. He stands still as stone, avoiding looking at his own eyes as he sizes up Michi's selections. For a moment his thoughts wander: he can...kinda envision himself wearing this shirt in the future, but the coat...? He cocks his head. Eh. He likes the one he already has.
"This is the last store, I promise."
Brendan huffs. "Okay." He doesn't dare to say that she promised that at the last store, but instead he slides off the coat. "Uhm...I'll keep the shirt."
He had already bought something at the last store and the store before that, so might as well make this a trilogy, he supposes. (He just prays that his wallet isn't calling CPS on him after this.)
