Suga In My Coffee

8. Turbinado

Niah’s POV

“Say ‘Please, oppa’!”

I frowned at Jae Young’s words, not at all liking the sneaky way he was acting. We had always had a friendly relationship, but the way he was pushing for me to call him “oppa” lately was weird, to say the least.

“Jae Young, I don’t think... That’s not appropriate…” I told him, despondently. His excitement seemed to deflate in an instant, and he looked confused.

“Not appropriate? Why not?” He questioned, and I bit my lip, struggling with the choice to tell him more.

“I… It’s just not proper for American girls like me to call guys ‘oppa’, you know?”

“Guys? Who else are you calling oppa besides me?” He replied, and I could tell he was a little irritated.

“No one! But in Korea, it may be frowned on for me, as a foreigner, to say that word. I just want to be respectful of everyone.”

He grabbed my arm in concern at that point, dropping the bag in his haste, “Respectful? Foreigner? Niah, what are you even talking about? Has someone been picking on you at school?”

“No, Jae, that’s not what happened either.” I gently pulled my arm from his grasp, picking up the gift bag he dropped and attempting to hand it back to him, “Look, I just don’t want to give you, or anyone else, the wrong impression. People at school are talking: they think we’re dating because I call you oppa.”

He objected, crossing his arms so that I couldn’t hand him the bag back, “And that’s a problem?”

I sighed in exasperation, “Yes, Jae, it’s a problem. You’re one of the most popular guys at school and I’m… me. Lots of girls want to date you, even my teammates. If you make yourself unavailable, you’ll never be able to go out with anyone,” I joked lamely, hoping to break some of the awkwardness of this conversation.

Jae Young uncrossed his arms and when he leveled his gaze at me, I realized the issue with a sinking feeling: he was pushing this because he wanted me to call him oppa in a different sense -- like a girlfriend. Even the notion of it shocked me, but the more I thought on it, the clearer the signs became.

He apparently realized something too because he crossed his arms again, “You’re seeing someone,” he accused, staring at me pointedly.

I looked away, feeling guilt rise up in my chest. I couldn’t tell him about Suga word-for-word, but I could mention him, “I’m… kind of seeing someone, yeah. He’s really great and I don’t want to ruin anything with misunderstandings.”

“Is it someone at our school? Does he play sports?”

I lifted my eyebrow, feeling annoyed, “No, and we’re not going to play the guessing game, Jae.”

“Niah, I have a right to know who I’m up against.” Jae Young said resolutely, and I rolled my eyes. We were not having this discussion at all.

“There is no ‘up against’, Jae. Yes, I’m dating someone, but that’s really none of your business. Thank you for remembering that my one year anniversary of living in Seoul is next week,” I held up the bag with one finger, as if to remind him why he showed up at my job in the first place, “And thank you for the gift.”

He wasn’t trying to hear that though. Jae Young ran his fingers through his short brown hair, biting out a frustrated sigh, “So that’s it? You’re not even going to acknowledge that I’ve liked you for an entire year? You’re just going to completely ignore me for some guy you barely know?”

“Jae, don’t do this. Please, don’t do this. I value you so much as a friend. If you wanted to be with me, you had an entire year to tell me. I didn’t even know you felt that way about me until today!”

“Yeah but-!”

“No, Jae!” I was yelling at this point, making people look at us. I switched to English, hoping that would keep people from getting into our business too much, “There’s no ifs, ands, or buts. You can’t be upset with me for not knowing and you can't force me to acknowledge it either."

He was fuming, but I didn’t care, I kept talking, “I’m not going to fight with you in the middle of the street, in front of my job, over who I am or am not seeing. I’m sorry I don’t return your feelings, but you’re not going to embarrass me or make me lose my job over it, are you? That’s not how you treat someone you like.”

At my words, he flinched like I hit him, a remorseful expression crossing his features, “Niah, I didn’t mean to-”

I held up my hand, not wasting time to let him finish “I’m sure you didn’t but you did it anyway.” I adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder, pushing out an angry breath, “I’m leaving and you can leave too if you want; I honestly don’t give a damn.”

As he stared at me open mouthed, I turned away from him and started walking down the street with my head held high. I didn’t bother to turn around to see what he did or where he had gone; I was too angry to care. I rode the train back to campus, heading directly to my dorm with no stops in between. Thankfully when I walked into the room, both Quinn and Karissa were there.

“Whoa, NeeNee, what happened?! You look like you want to strangle someone! Should I get the vaseline?” Karissa questioned, leaning over the edge of her bed to give me a once over.

“Ha Ha,” I said sarcastically, plopping down on her bed beside her, still fuming. Quinn watched me carefully, and then noticed the bag in my hand.

“So I take it Jae Young gave you your anniversary gift?” She asked, pointing towards the little gift bag, "He asked us for suggestions on what to get you last week."

“Oh, he gave it to me, all right, and decided to tie it up in a pretty bow, wrapped in ‘his feelings’,” I dropped the bag on the floor like it burned me, not even knowing what was inside of it. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it this entire time. I really had no idea he actually liked me. I just thought he was being helpful.”

“More like he was trying to help you into his basketball shorts,” Karissa replied, lifting her eyebrows ertedly. Quinn laughed, and I fought a smile, feeling lighter already.

“I take it you rejected him?” Quinn asked me, once she and Karissa finally calmed down.

“Of course, haven’t you watched the videos on Youtube?! Yoongi would kill us both!” I cried, absolutely refusing to entertain the idea of being unfaithful to Suga.

“Ooohhhhhhh, so you’re on a first name basis with THE Min Yoongi?” Karissa squealed, poking me teasingly.

Quinn snickered, shaking her head, “Y’all are gonna get us kicked out of this dorm, I swear.”

Karissa and I grinned at each other and then dog piled on Quinn’s bed. She hollered at us stretching out all over her, but laughed nonetheless.

“Queenie, hurry up and graduate so we can get an apartment and live with you!” I cried, burying my face in her shoulder.

Karissa followed suit on the other side, “Yeah, then we can all finally get our own rooms!”

“Hah, I’m not living with you two nutjobs after graduation!” Quinn shouted, and we all burst into a fit of giggles together.

When our mushy moment was over, we all sat up properly on Quinn’s bed, both of them looking at me in concern. “Niah, you okay?” Quinn prompted, and I nodded, once again thankful for my best friends.

“I’ll be fine. If he still wants to be friends with me in the future, we can talk about it, but right now, I want to be with Yoongi. I like him so much and he’s really sweet to me.”

Karissa nodded, understanding my sentiments, “Speaking of sweet, you’ll never guess what I got! I don’t even know how he got a gift to me.” Kari climbed off of the bed to grab a hat box from a shop in Jeju Island. She took out a beautiful wide brim white hat with delicate pink flowers around it, “Look what Jungkook sent me.”

“Whoa! Jungkook?!” I asked, examining the hat once she handed it to me. Quinn nodded at the hat, a thoughtful expression on her face. We knew something was up when she didn’t say anything, so we both her.

“You gave him our address?!” Karissa and I asked in unison and Quinn chuckled, holding her hands up in a defensive gesture.

“I honestly didn’t,” she bit her lip thoughtfully while Karissa put the hat away and climbed back on the bed with us, “But he probably got it from Namjoon.”

“Rap Monster? Wha-?!” Karissa stared wide-eyed at Quinn and I gasped, shaking her arm.

“What is going on?” I asked, urging her to continue.

“We had dinner a few times before they left,” Quinn told us, with a wistful smile. I had never seen her look like this; it was unusual to see the most rational of our group being swayed, “I really can’t stand him,” she said with a laugh, causing Kari and I to look at each other in confusion.

“If you can’t stand him, why are you going on dates with him?” Karissa inquired, and I nodded in agreement, trying to make heads or tails of what Quinn was saying.

“It’s not that I can’t stand him for real, but he’s so incredibly intelligent. He’s always three steps ahead of me -- I never know what to do,” Quinn was examining her feelings in front of us and it almost seemed like she wasn’t really talking to us anymore.

“Three steps ahead?” I echoed, wondering exactly what she was talking about.

“So with the address for example: he got our address because he sent a taxi for me before. I willingly gave him that information and thought nothing of it, and now he’s shared it with Jungkook to get Rissa’s hat delivered. He tricked me into giving him my phone number too and I didn’t even catch on until I had already called him from my phone.” Quinn smiled warmly, amusement and respect coloring her words.

“Sounds… complicated,” Karissa said thoughtfully and I agreed. I wouldn’t be able to handle those types of mind games, but apparently Quinn was enjoying herself.

“Yes, he’s certainly something else, that Leader.” Quinn released a breath, shaking her head and standing up from the bed, “Anyway! Since you finally ended it with your basketball boo, we should go get some drinks!”

“Are you serious? I have class tomorrow!” I cried, knowing I would regret going out to party in the middle of the week.

“It’ll be pregaming for your anniversary party this weekend! I promised to take you out, didn’t I?” Quinn teased, pulling me up off of the bed with her.

“Ok, one drink, Queenie, then I have to go to bed.”

“Sure, sure,” Karissa said sarcastically, grabbing both our bags as Quinn pushed me towards the door.

The Next Day

I was hungover and totally exhausted. Class had taken forever and then I had to head over to the coffee shop to work the evening shift. I was just ready for the day to end, honestly. Right before my break time, a grinning chipmunk named Jimin walked into the shop, and I cooed on sight.

“Awwwww, Jimin-ah, you really came to see me! What do you want to drink? Noona will treat you!”

With his usual adorable smile, Jimin told me his order and I made our drinks, heading over to a corner table that he chose. When I took my seat, he smiled again, but it seemed a little different -- worried.

“Jimin-ah, what’s the matter?” I questioned, hoping I could coax his concerns out of him.

His lips tightened into a thin line, and he took a sip of his drink, contemplating his words for a moment. Finally, he looked up at me, uncertainty clear in his voice, “Have you talked to Yoongi-hyung lately?”

I paused, racking my brain for the answer. It had been a few days since we last spoke, but that was normal when the group was traveling. Suddenly, the realization dawned on me that the group *wasn’t* traveling anymore. Otherwise, Jimin wouldn’t be here in front of me.

“I...haven’t talked to him since the basketball game last Saturday. I didn’t know you guys were back in Seoul.”

Jimin nodded, chewing his bottom lip in thought, “I knew it. I tried to tell the others that there was something weird about Yoongi-hyung but no one was sure…” He reached across the table and took my hand, gazing at me with a serious expression, “Noona, we’ve been back since Sunday.”

“Sunday? You’ve been in Seoul since Sunday? It’s Wednesday! Why didn’t Suga-?”

Jimin shook his head, “I don’t know, Noona. He’s been really angry lately. Depressed. I wondered if he had talked to you, but now I know he hasn’t said anything to you either.”

I blanched, feeling something cold and sharp in my chest. What was wrong with Yoongi?

“Noona, can you… can you talk to him, maybe? If it’s you, I think you can find out what’s wrong.” Jimin requested and I patted his hand, nodding seriously.

“Absolutely. I can’t believe I didn’t know you guys were back! I hope he’s not mad at me for not coming by.” I said anxiously, pondering on possible reasons for Suga’s sudden attitude change.

Jimin exhaled slowly, “I hope not either. Thank you for helping us out, Noona. I have to get going now, but I’ll definitely stop by again! Thank you for the drink.”

I smiled as Jimin gathered our empty cups and threw them away, “I’ll try to stop by soon,” I told him with a wave as he headed towards the door. I rushed back to work, my hangover forgotten in the wake of my concern for Yoongi. I hoped everything was okay with him, but no matter what, I would get to the bottom of this.

At the end of my shift, I headed straight for Big Hit, not even bothering to change out of my uniform. I was filled with uneasiness about Yoongi's change in demeanor and I couldn’t wait any longer. I had messaged him twice during my shift with no reply, which worried me even more. I walked right into the building, bypassing the security desk entirely. Both guards had seen me enough times at this point to know who I was, or at least recognize my face. I briefly wondered if it should be this easy to get into the company, but all thoughts fled my mind when I approached Suga’s studio window and peeked inside. There he was, sitting at the computer with his expensive headphones, much like the last time I saw him in there. I walked in without hesitation, hoping he would be happy to see me.

His phone sat right beside him, face down on the desk. He didn’t turn when I came in, so I assumed he hadn’t heard or seen me enter. I walked over and tapped his shoulder, crossing my arms when he slid his headphones off his ears and turned around.

“Suga-”

He took one look at me and turned back around, putting his headphones back over his ears. I stared in surprise, huffing in annoyance, and pulled his headphones off of his head myself.

“Are you serious?” I accused and he glared at me, yanking the headphones out of my hand. The look he gave me was one of unrestrained irritation and I felt that cold, sharp pain again in my chest.

“Why are you here, Niah-ssi?” He asked me coolly as he stood up, not once looking at my eyes. He looked past me, like I wasn’t standing there.

“Why am I here? Why didn’t you tell me you were back in Seoul?” I demanded, not liking his attitude one bit.

“Since I’m not your oppa, I figured you wouldn't care.”

I was floored by his tone, his attitude and his words; nothing he said was making any sense, “Not my oppa? What? What are you even saying?”

Yoongi’s grip on the headphones tightened as he finally looked at me, his eyes blazing with anger, “I’m saying your oppa isn’t here, Niah-ssi, so why are you? Go find him.”

I stepped back, flinching at his angry gaze. Tears were filling my eyes, as I sought for an ounce of understanding or even logic in his words, “Yoongi, I have no idea what you’re talking about and I don’t-”

Suga threw his headphones on the desk, storming over to the door and throwing it open. He wasn’t looking at me, instead looking out into the hallway, “...Out.”

“If you would just explain to me what’s happen-”

He looked back up at me, his gaze steely and resolute, “Get out of my studio right now,” he said in English, “You understand that, right? Get. Out.”

Finally, a single tear fell. I felt it rolling down my cheek and both of us were wide-eyed at its presence on my face. I took one final look at him, tears clouding my vision and ran out of the room as fast as my legs could carry me. I almost made it out of the building when I nearly crashed into Namjoon. He caught me and I sniffed, trying not to let him see my face.

“Whoa! Niah-ssi, watch ou-” Namjoon finally saw the tears streaming down my cheeks and his eyes grew wide. “Hey, are you ok? What’s wrong?”

I sniffed again, trying to mumble an excuse for my appearance but nothing intelligible came out. Namjoon sighed in exasperation, “Was it Yoongi-hyung?”

I nodded slowly, trying to hold back the sobs that were literally shaking my body, screaming to be released.

Namjoon pushed out a frustrated sigh, grabbing my wrist gently, “Ok, come with me,” he said, leading me off towards another section of the building. We reached a lounge area in the basement, and Namjoon sat me down on a leather couch. He pulled out his phone and left the room, leaving me to sob in earnest. Soon, Namjoon came back with a box of tissues and a bottle of water.

“Niah-ssi, please don’t cry anymore. I can’t handle a woman’s tears.” He said, patting my back.

I sniffed again, giving him a watery smile, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you involved.”

Namjoon returned my smile, “Oh, I was already involved; don’t worry about it. I told him he was being an idiot, if that makes you feel any better.”

“You did?” I asked, dabbing at my eyes with the tissue he provided. Namjoon nodded, handing me another tissue and I blew my nose with it.

“Niah-ssi… It’s not my place to tell you, but I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

I nodded, feeling dread fill my stomach, “That’s an understatement.”

“He said he heard someone mention your anniversary, and he just got all mad after that-”

“My anniversary? How’d he know it was my anniversary?” I blinked, trying to figure out how Yoongi would even know that it was my one year anniversary of living in Korea.

“So it really is your anniversary?”

“This weekend. I’ve officially lived in Seoul, South Korea for a year.”

Namjoon paused and then rubbed his temples, “Oh my God,” he said in English, shaking his head. “That’s what this anniversary is for? You’re not celebrating your relationship with anyone?”

“No! The only relationship I had was with Yoongi and now that’s-!” I sniffed again, feeling more tears spring to my eyes, “That’s ruined…”

“,” Namjoon cursed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Just as he unlocked the screen, the ringer went off and I saw Quinn’s picture flash across the screen. Namjoon held up a finger, answering Quinn’s call, “Hey beautiful. Yeah, we’re downstairs. I’ll bring her up.”

He hung up the phone and personally escorted me up to the lobby, where Quinn stood waiting. A look passed between them before Quinn turned towards me, wrapping me in her arms, “Let’s get you home, sweets.”

I waved at Namjoon, feeling my hangover and emotions push against my brain in full force. I leaned into Quinn’s shoulder, falling fast asleep in the back of the taxi, by the time we drove by the basketball courts.

End Chapter 8