Jimin finds himself chomping away at the edges of his fingernails, a nasty habit that he has been with him since his primary education.  He only finds himself clipping the edges of his fingernails with his teeth when he’s stressed out.  The clicking sounds that are made when his teeth snap together only serve to amp up his anxiety.

The number that Jungkook gave him directs him to the voicemail of one Kim Seokjin, whose voice seems rather lifeless as he prattles off a professional recording that states both his phone number and his name and if this isn’t the person that he’s trying to reach that he should redial.  Jimin tears his hand away from his mouth as he finally hears the beep, giving him the go ahead to leave his information.

Jimin clears his throat, trying to keep his nervousness from bleeding into his voice, “Hello, I’m looking at this flier that is looking for a housemaid, and it says to call this number.  If this is the right number, I’m interested in the job opportunity.  I’d really love to meet up and discuss what the job entails.  Oh! Yeah, this is Park Jimin.  Please give me a call back.”  Jimin leaves his number too, repeating once at a slow speed then again at his normal pace (which is in itself is its own little musical jingle).

Jimin feels dread pooling in his stomach, wincing at how unprofessional his message felt.  He hopes that it doesn’t deter Seokjin from calling him back, assuming this job is legitimate.  He also hopes that Seokjin isn’t a serial killer that uses fake job ads to lure in victims.  If Seokjin is a serial killer, Jimin hopes that he doesn’t fit the bill for potential victims.  Of course, Jimin then shames himself because he wouldn’t feel better if someone else were to die at a serial killer's hands.

Jimin sets his phone down on his nightstand, catching his lower lip between his teeth.  He’ll draw blood if he keeps thinking about it.  This Seokjin character probably isn’t going to call him back today.  The earliest that he can possibly get back to him is in the morning.

Jimin returns to the kitchen, quietly closing his door.  He belatedly realizes that Jungkook is no longer in the apartment.  Jimin is briefly confused, but the memory of Jungkook complaining about how his dance practice had been moved forward resurfaces to provide an explanation for the younger’s absence.  Jimin sighs, glancing at the pot of water that has yet to reaching a rolling boil.  Jimin frowns, worrying about what Jungkook is going to eat for dinner.  Jungkook needs energy to make it through dance practice and get home without falling asleep on the bus. (Jungkook had fallen asleep on the bus before, which was a costly affair because he was kicked off the bus and had to call a cab.)

Jimin rummages through the kitchen, picking up a full box of macaroni elbows.  The elbows hit against each other and sides of the cardboard box, indicating that the box is full.  He sets it on the counter and turns his attention to fridge, pulling out a variety of meats, condiments, side dishes, and vegetables.  Jimin straightens up, dumping his newly collected food items on the counter next to the macaroni.

The oven is still preheating, nearing the set temperature slowly.  Jimin throws on the only apron in the house, struggling to get it around his body in an effective way that will protect his shirt from his future preparations.  Whenever he is having a bad day, it becomes Kitchen Sink Casserole night.  He does it when Namjoon and Jungkook are having a tough time too, but today, this casserole is about making him feel happy.

He finds himself ducking down to the lower cupboards to pull up a bowl for his casserole fixings. He’s done this so many times that the measurements for the base don’t require any actual measuring cups or spoons anymore.  As he reaches for the flour, he finds that the water for his pasta has reached a rolling boil.  He sets the flour next to the big bowl, and picks up the macaroni box only to tear open the top, dumping the elbows into the hot water.

He turns his attention back to the casserole base, adding milk, cheese, and flour to whisk together.  The cheese clumps in his whisk, but a few forcible whacks against the side of the bowl shake them off.  He looks at the clock, deciding the macaroni has been cooked enough for it to be perfect after spending time in the oven.

He drains the macaroni quickly before dumping the firm noodles into his cheese mixture.  He whips out a large spoon from one of the many drawers in the kitchen, using it to thoroughly coat the elbows with the semi-liquid mixture.   Among the things that Jimin adds to his casserole are precooked sausages (that are still cut up as cute octopi from an attempt to appease one of little girls from down the hall in one of Jungkook’s babysitting adventures), chopped onion, and kimchi from Namjoon’s mother.

Jimin folds in his additions, resuming his rummaging in order to find their sole ceramic casserole dish that is on its last legs, thin black cracks covering the bottom of the white dish.  Jimin places it on the counter as gently as possible because he whole-heartedly believes that setting it down too hard will result in it shattering to pieces.

He pours his casserole fixings in the dish, leveling out the top off with the back of his spoon.  The timer on the oven beeps three times, making Jimin jump slightly as he ducks down to one of the lower cupboards to take out a can of breadcrumbs.  He sprinkles the crumbs on top of his noodles.  He pauses, looking around the empty apartment before doubling up on the topping.  (He has been told on multiple occasions to not use so much breadcrumbs because it can excessively crunchy for Jungkook and Namjoon.)

He delicately transfers the casserole from the counter to the oven.  Kicking the door shut with his foot as he straightens up, dusting his hands off.  He rubs his neck and shoulder, trying to knead away the knots caused by the stress of losing his job (and the anxiety of waiting for a reply from the potential serial killer, Kim Seokjin).

The casserole finishes forty-five minutes later, and Jimin is still alone in the apartment, forking through his serving of piping-hot casserole.  It’s not that Jimin doesn’t find it delicious, he does, but Namjoon isn’t back yet.  Jungkook won’t be back until much later, and Jimin isn’t used to eating alone.

Jimin falls asleep around ten o’clock.  Namjoon shuffles into the house just as Jimin is dragged under the heavy haze of sleep.

Jimin wakes up with a dry mouth and a damp pillow beneath his face.  He smacks his lips a few times, trying to wet his mouth, running his tongue over his wrinkly lips.  He blinks his eyes open, squinting against the sunlight stabbing his eyes.

He rolls over, staring at the stilled ceiling fan.  Jimin is extremely close to comparing his life to his fan, but a shrill scream ruins the thought before it can even form.  Jimin springs into action, flinging his door open to find Namjoon on his knees on the floor with his hands framing his face as he stares at a single spider that is not more than the size of a pea.

Jimin rolls his eyes, stepping into the bathroom to grab a piece of toilet paper.  He quickly bends over, squishing the bug beneath the flimsy piece of bath tissue.  Namjoon topples over on his side, hands firmly covering his mouth as Jimin tosses the now dead spider and toilet paper into the bathroom's wastebasket.

“I don’t even have to look at your face to feel second-hand embarrassment.” Jimin flatly states as he grabs his hairbrush, tugging it through his tangled bed head.  He winces as each knot fights against the brush, pulling at his scalp painfully.  He stops once he’s satisfied with his presentation.

Namjoon clears his throat, “Are you sure that you should’ve killed that spider?”  His conscience reasserting itself quickly, making Jimin worried that Namjoon will soon prattle on about philosophical and ethical ramifications of killing the spider.

Jimin pushes past Namjoon to go to the kitchen in order to get a glass of water to resolve his parched throat, “You stopped screaming.  If it wanted to live, it should’ve wandered into a different unit.”

“But—“ Namjoon’s protest is quickly cut off by Jimin’s raised hand, “I will bear the karmic consequences.” Jimin fills up his glass with tepid water, gulping it down despite its warmth and the fact that it has yet to clear up.

He wipes his hand with the back of his mouth, begrudgingly padding back to his room with heavy steps weighed down by dissipating exhaustion.  He flops back down onto his bed face down, into a slobber-covered pillow.  It’s a moan about many things, his current state of employ (or lack thereof), Namjoon’s contradicting philosophy and fears, and Jungkook’s bending of morality for his benefit.

His face is hot, and it’s getting harder to breathe with his face buried in a pillow.  But he’s not all that inclined to move in spite of his evolutionary instincts encouraging him to just turn his head to the right or even the left.  However, before his biological imperative to survive forces him to catch his breath, his cell phone rings.

Jimin slaps his hand down on his nightstand, missing his phone on the first try.  He continues to feel around despite the stinging in his hand that is only worsened by the constant stimulus of feeling around.  His fingers finally land on the edge of his phone, curling around the phone automatically.  He brings the phone to his ear, answering the call before looking at the caller-ID.  He turns his face in order to mumble out a “hello?”

A man clears his throat on the other side of the phone call, “Hello, is this Park Jimin?”  His words are rigid and crisp with formality that Jimin is entirely unfamiliar with.

Jimin rolls over, sitting up as he replies, “Yes, it is.  How may I help you?”

“This is Kim Seokjin.  You called me in regards to the job flier that I posted.  I am interested in meeting with you in order to discuss the position.  When would it be most prudent for you to meet with me?” Jimin almost drops his phone, but he catches it in time to keep from embarrassing himself.

Jimin forgets his worries about Seokjin being a serial killer because the only phrase running through his mind is ‘oh my god’. Jimin blinks several times before realizing that he needs to answer, “I’m available at your convenience.  I mean— whenever is good for you.”

Kim Seokjin pauses, seeming to process Jimin’s words, “Can you meet me at noon?”

“Yes.”

Kim Seokjin takes a deep breath, “I will text you the address at which we will meet.  Tell the host or hostess that you are meeting with me.”

Jimin hums in affirmation, unable to find his actual voice or words because he might be hallucinating.  Kim Seokjin clears his throat once more; “I will see you at noon then.”

With that Kim Seokjin hangs up the phone.  Jimin wants to scream because (once again) ‘OH MY GOD!’ is tumbling around his brain.  He’s ecstatic, and maybe he has a job interview.

His mind scrambles, making a thorough to-do list for his interview in (‘OH MY GOD!!’) three hours.  He needs to print off his resume and find his (former) supervisor’s number and pick out appropriate attire because the address from Kim Seokjin is located in the nice part of town.

He should also probably brush his teeth.  This doesn’t occur to him until he’s almost left the apartment.

Jimin arrives at the absurdly nice restaurant only three minutes before noon.  He has had several hiccups on the way to the restaurant, which is in a hidden corner of uptown that seems tucked away from the bustle of the streets and tailpipe exhaust.  The wind whips past him, nearly taking his resume along with it.

His hair is slightly disheveled, and he may or may not be panting slightly as he arrives at the hostess stand.  A rather disinterested girl looks him up and down with a disbelieving gaze that is lost on Jimin.  He approaches her directly, “I’m here to meet with Mr. Kim Seokjin.”  His voice comes out far too unsure to convince the girl that Jimin is meant to be there.  However, she has been informed ahead of time, forcing her to guide Jimin to Kim Seokjin’s table.

A man with broad shoulders is sitting at the table to which Jimin is brought.  Seokjin has an intimidating posture as he stands, offering a hand to Jimin, which is immediately taken.  It's firm handshake, which only leads Jimin to believe that this man's presence demands respect.  His suit jacket is on his chair, but judging by the Rolex on his wrist and pink silk tie around his neck, Kim Seokjin is living comfortably.

“Sit.” Seokjin motions with his hand to the seat across from him.

Jimin quietly sets his papers aside, scooting the seat up to a comfortable distance from the table.  The legs scrape loudly against the hardwood floor as Jimin finally sets his posture to match Seokjin’s with a chest puffed out.  It hurts Jimin’s spine.

“I’ll get right to it.  First and foremost, this job requires discretion and—“ Seokjin bobbles his head as he tries to find the right word, “composure.”

“Oh don’t worry.  I can’t really reveal anything incriminating.” Jimin rushes to reassure Seokjin of his competence without realizing that it requires an explanation.

A perfect eyebrow set above Seokjin’s eye arches as he inquires, “How so?”

Jimin takes a breath, glancing down at the gleaming dishes and silverware, “I have a disorder called prosopagnosia, which is also known as—“

“Face blindness.” Seokjin finishes his sentence, nodding in understanding, which Jimin was not expecting. At all.  “Well with that out of the way, I guess I’ll have to ask about any experience that you have with cleaning and house keeping.”

Jimin shuffles through the papers that are sitting next to him, immediately extending his resume to Seokjin, “I worked as a janitor up until this week.  I was laid off.”

Seokjin nods as he accepts the paper, scanning it over with a cursory glance.  Jimin waits for Seokjin to finish whatever he’s doing, twiddling his thumbs until a paper drink napkin is slid towards him from across the mahogany table with a number on it that makes Jimin uncomfortable.

Jimin looks between the napkin and Seokjin, “Is this what the pay would be?”

“Assuming your references check out and you’re okay with what your position will entail.” Seokjin’s voice is incredibly level, considering how much he might be getting paid.  “There is of course a non-disclosure contract and all that jazz.  If you just leave me your email, I’ll send you the more complex details of what you’ll be doing, once again assuming that I hire you.”

Jimin nods, his mind spinning (a non-disclosure contract?) from the Seokjin’s spiel.   Seokjin offers Jimin a pen, and Jimin scribbles his email below the obscene amount of money that Seokjin was offering.

Seokjin clears his throat, “So end of interview.”

“Do I just go?” Jimin asks. Seokjin nods, relieving Jimin of the panic that would be related to actually ordering something at this restaurant.  Jimin hurries away, wondering why a non-disclosure agreement would be needed and if he would even get hired.

He is in his room on his computer when he gets his answer.  His finger hovers over the left button of his mouse for a minute, ultimately clicking once on the email, presenting him with a fairly short blurb from Kim Seokjin.

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Job details

Mr. Park Jimin—

I am pleased to inform you that, should you choose to accept, the housemaid job is yours.  I have already informed you of the potential pay.  I have attached a file of minutia of the job.

Please get back to me by the end of the week.

Regards.

Kim Seokjin

Talent Manager, Bighit Records

________________________

Download attached file?

Jimin blinks several times before clicking the attached file.  The file downloads quickly, a Word document springing up over his email.

Rules and Requirements

1. Must sign a confidentiality agreement before becoming officially employed by Bighit/Kim Seokjin
   1.  *Note: only Kim Seokjin will have the authority to fire the subordinate.  Kim Seokjin is the next rung up on said hierarchy; all complaints and hiring decisions should [and will] be run through Kim Seokjin.
2. Will be working in a residence
3. Vacuum on a biweekly basis or as needed
   1. All cleaning supplies and appliances will be provided by the employer
4. Dust and disinfect daily
5. Clean bathroom(s) every other day or as needed (subject to change at the will of Kim Seokjin
   1. **Note: employee is required to bring his own gloves if he chooses to do so
6. Will provide laundry services on an as-needed basis (includes dry cleaning runs as well as potentially ironing)
7. Arrives at residence between 8:30 and 9:00 AM and leaves by no later than 5:00 PM (unless otherwise needed)
8. Employee WILL NOT enter the last two rooms of the hallway
   1. *** Note: VIOLATION OF THIS CLAUSE WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE TERMINATION

Jimin rereads the list several times, going back and forth between accepting and declining.

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Job offer

Mr. Kim Seokjin—

I’ll accept the job.  When do I start?

Best.

Park Jimin

Jimin sits back, realizing that he has not the slightest clue what he’s getting himself into. On the plus side, he can give Jungkook some relief on his not-so-moral actions.  Jimin hopes that this isn’t encouraging Jungkook to do it again.

a/n: so.... we're never going to meet Yoongi. I AM SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES or missed words.
next chapter is probably Jungkook centric and might be published later this week (we'll see though).  Hopefully I'll be able to update on a more regular basis (I'm aiming for Mondays).
also, thank you guys so much for subscribing. :)
please stay... I know it's going slowly.