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“babe since when did you drink coffee?, i thought you said it’s i quote “what the devil would throw up, if he did, which he probably did” “

It was too early in the morning for this and the hangover from last night’s buzz was not helping. She should’ve probably stopped after her second blueberry mojito, but nope it kind of hit her after her third G&T and her fourth tequila shot, that she should probably subside down or the club’s toilet bowl will be her best friend for the night. So that was the reason why Deena Abraham, aspiring fashion stylist and Korean history with maths major was currently slumped against a stool at one of the local Starbucks in Gangnam.

She would’ve preferred a thousand times over to have gone to a family owned small-scale restaurant,  where she would’ve been given steaming hot hangover soup, more relieving than any painkillers or drugs, usually for free as she was a foreigner, and also because the Ajhummas at that place understood reckless decision making of the youth better than anyone.

But the couple had spent an entire hour looking into at least 38 different restaurants. But it was a Saturday morning. Post Friday nights only meant one thing in Seoul city. Every family owned restaurant was heavily packed and filled to the brim with young adults who had made one too many stupid decisions the night before, as they leaned against each other, pulling beanies and snapbacks over their eyes to block out the morning’s sunlight, whilst they clutched desperately at their banging skulls, and waited for their turn to get their hands on the holy grail soup.

That was the reason why they gave up, nauseated and drained, they opted for the conventional and universal coffee shop instead. Groaning in agony, as the sunlight seemed to find her rather attractive this morning, hit her once again, why are the blinds open?, why is the sun out?, it’s only April? Go away sun. Why don’t you come out when i tell you to come out?

She pushed her circular sunglasses up her face again. Her boyfriend a.k.a Mr. Look-at-me-im-still-standing-and-practically-sober-ready-to-mingle-even-after-three-whiskies-and-a-bajillion-tequila-shots’ ultra chirpy mood was not helping either as he continued to hum to Pharell’s Happy. She was anything but cheerful. Never again she told herself, something that had become a tradition every Saturday morning.

“who said i’m here for the coffee, i want one of those cinnamon buns”

She croaked, as she flapped her arm out, in the direction she assumed was where all the bakery was at. She buried herself further into her studdedrocco purse, as another wave of nausea took over, oh dear lord, Jesus help me!

“what happened to your diet?”  He questioned, stopping mid-tune he smiled at her in glee. He wasn’t a masochist of such, but a post drunk girlfriend, who he may like to add pulled him up on to the podium last night and made out with him in front of everyone, and now looked as if she may burst into tears was actually the most adorable and cutest sight he had seen. Was he being too mean?

“YAH! i’m not complaining about you dragging me out of bed this early in the morning, not forgetting it’s a SATURDAY PARK JAEBUM!!, don’t start complaining about my eating habits” she spat.1200 calories and no carbs could it, she wasn’t preparing for no Victoria’s Secret fashion show.

“sorry lil miss diva, didn’t realise mother nature had knocked on your door this early in the month”

He grinned as he patted her head. She sat up straight and glared at him through her dark shades. She had never had a greater urge to rip the head off a body.

“Jay Park you underestimate my ability of hurting you in a public place”

Her monotone voice usually translated to run, run as far as you can, and don’t look back,made his eyes widen and he quickly scooted over to the barista as he exchanged a warm ‘good morning’. At least someone was willing to join in with his perkiness.

“OKAYYY……….so that will be a venti iced Americano, a grande passion tea lemonade, two chicken barbecue paninis and a cinnamon bun of course”

He turned around, to grin at her in his good church boy manner, asking her for her confirmation, she only glowered at him.

“make that a venti iced Americano and a grande iced mocha no cream please” Deena smiled at the employee in the green apron. For it wasn’t the poor barista’s eyeballs she wanted to claw out, it was the guy who’s order she was taking.

“oooooh so we’re finally giving in to Satan’s vomit i see” he wiggled his eyebrows at her, bringing a hand up in the air for a high five. She only glared at him.

He knew when to shut up.

“oooh babe look they have low fat oatmeal, would you……”

“SHUT UP PARK JAEBUM AND GIVE ME MY FREAKIN CINNAMON BUN!”

"……..cinnamon bun it is then…..make that an extra two to go, it looks like i’m going to be having a feast at my funeral" he meekly smiled at barista, who tried her best not to burst out laughing.

Deena smiled satisfied, for this was the most beautiful thing she had heard all morning.

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LET’S GET SOME DRABBLES UP, LET’S GET SOME DRABBLES UP!

yesterday i had this burst of inspiration and wrote a bunch of drabbles, so this is the first one :)

Hope you liked it <3

~~~Rizz