“Tell that I am not helping his company go public until he lets me fix up that good-for-nothing rich kid who has no respect for good music,” a customer yelled into his phone. “He might have talent, but if he’s not willing to let me whip that brat into shape, it’s not happening. I don’t care whose son he is,” he continued.

It was about 9 a.m. and the morning rush had just wrapped up, so it was like the calm after the storm for a few minute until this loudmouth showed up yelling into his phone, disturbing all of the customers and staff.

He walked up to you, still talking on the phone. Oh god, he’s not one of those is he, you wondered, hoping you would at least hear an “I’ll call you back in a minute,” but instead he never hung up. At least he was attractive, you thought.

He just pointed the phone speaker towards his shoulder. “One venti caramel macchiato, extra caramel, no foam,” he said in one breath, and went straight back to talking on the phone.

“Have you heard his last recording session?! The kid showed up with a massive hangover, still slurring his words,” the customer yelled.

You wrote his order and rung him up without a word. When you were done, he was still talking on his phone when you tried to get his attention. You waved your hand in front of his face and he looked at you. “Your name,” you mouthed to him, not wanting to interrupt him and his phone conversation, no matter how rude.

He covered the phone speaker with his hand and whispered “Woozi.”

You didn’t know what kind of name that was, but you decided to have a little revenge and sell it wrong. Instead of writing “우지,” you wrote “우띠.” You chuckled a little to yourself, wondering what his reaction would be to seeing his name written as Wooddi.

You saw him, still talking, and tapped the price on the front of the register. He pulled out his card without hesitation and handed it to you. You finished the transaction and gave him his card back, turning around to make his drink. You spent a little extra time on it, hoping it would make him a bit late.

“One venti caramel macchiato, extra caramel, no foam, at the bar,” you yelled, pulling a sleeve onto the drink and pushing it towards him.

He picked up his drink and walked away, not a single thank you.

You hoped he would come back tomorrow so you could spell his name wrong again.

“Who the hell is Wooddi,” Sungcheol asked, turning Woozi’s drink a little to see the name a little better.

“I don’t even know, hyung. I went to the Starbucks closer to work than to home today and I guess the girl heard my name wrong,” Woozi explained.

Sungcheol let out a little chuckle. “Are you sure it wasn’t because you were on the phone with me the whole time you were ordering,” Sungcheol suggested, knowing how annoying it is when people do that.

“Whatever, hyung, she probably deals with that all the time,” Woozi said, waving Sungcheol away.