It is nine-fifty pm by the time Jimin got home after handing out flyers advertising his café at the nearby gym and shops. Some accepted the flyers while others just looked at him as if he was high on drugs. He swings opens the door and slamming it shut behind him. His mother comes rushing out of the living room, staring at him, eyes wide open.

“What’s wrong?”

Jimin sighs, he greets his mother and walks to the living room, he tosses his bag on the couch.

“Is it so hard to help each other out?”

“Who?”

“These shop owners are so stingy like out little café is going to steal their customers, it’s ridiculous. And some idiot bumped into me sending mu flyers all over the place, argh! Such an annoying day!” he complains. His mother laughs, shaking her head,

“At least you tried, now go take shower so you can eat,” she says, patting his head. Jimin sighs, exhausted and annoyed but as soon as his mom mentions food he couldn’t help but grin. He has been running around all day at the café, he barely had time to eat a proper meal, just cup of roman noodle in the afternoon. 

“Come on, it’s late,” says his mom, “Go take shower.” Jimin nods his head and gets up.

“Don’t wait up for me, I’ll heat up my dinner.”

After eating dinner, he decides to use his phone before going to bed since he ate late in the night. He hates going to sleep right away, even though his mom always urges him to sleep early since he must wake up early to go open the café. Even though the café is in his mom’s name, Jimin is the one who runs it while his mother handles the other things, like ordering the ingredients, machine, handles the cash, paperwork, meeting with investors and attending small business seminars. Sometimes he wishes he can do everything, but he knows without a college degree or a business license he cannot do much except help her run the café. With other cafes almost every corner, it is a competitive field which is why he also decided to learn how to bake pastries, with their café being the newest one in the block, serving a variety of snacks alongside the coffee made their shop stand out a little. His family did not have enough money for him to attend college but Jimin tries not to think about do not have since his mom is always telling him to be grateful for the things they have like a roof over their heads, their health, and food. Despite all that he is still ambitious about seeing their little café grow into something more and become recognizable.

Before heading to bed, Jimin decides to do some light on bed exercises, a routine he started doing ever since working at café since he has no time to exercise. After he was done, he takes a deep breath, stretching out his arm.

Tomorrow is a new day.  

The alarm blares loudly, dancing on top of the drawer, Jimin carefully turns to the other side, tossing the blanket aside. His heart thumped in rhythm with slow, shallow breaths. Tranquility plastered across his face as he slept. The beeping of the alarm disturbs him, he slowly opens his eyes, muttering in his sleep. Regretting not listening to his mother’s words, he went to sleep at twelve instead of sleeping at eleven o’clock as he planned. He rubs his tired eyes with the inside of his palm as he yawns. He sits up on the bed and turns on the lamp. He looks at the clock that reads six o’clock in the morning, he slams the snooze button, and sits on the bed for a while, collecting his thoughts as his eyes adjust to the light. He gets off the bed, dragging his feet, like a zombie- he is never quite up before taking a shower.

 Jimin sighs as he turns the doorknob to the bathroom, he takes off his clothes placing them on the hanger. He walks to the tub and leans over to turn on the old, metallic dial, adjusting the water until they are warm enough to step underneath, the showerhead releases warm drops. Jimin steps inside, inhaling deeply as soon as the water touches his body, calming him down and waking him up completely.

After taking a shower, he puts on his black jeans and white long sleeve collared shirt with a blue sweater. After he was done getting ready, he grabs his bag with his maroon apron and heads downstairs. The smell of his mother’s cooking takes over his sense as he walks in the kitchen,

“Good morning,” he says, greeting his mother.

“Good morning,” replies his mom, “Go wait with your father at the table.” Jimin nods his head and walks over to the table a few feet away. His father’s eyes are glued to the newspaper he was reading, since his injury, aside from his physical therapy, he spent most his time reading or helping with chores around the house. Jimin sits down at the chair,

“Hi dad!” he shouts, his father looks up from his newspaper, adjusting his glasses,

“Good morning,” he says, “You came home late last night.”

“Yeah, I was handing out those flyers I made.”

“Hmm, you know I don’t like you going around handing out flyers like a beggar.” Jimin chuckles, at his father’s choice of words,

“I’m not begging father, it’s advertising.”

“Once I get better, you won’t have to go around doing those kinds of stuff.”

“Okay, hurry up and get better,” he teases, “I want to go back to doing nothing anyway.” His father chuckles as he turns the page.

Jimin stuffs his mouth with stir-fry cellophane noodle with