It was one of those situations where Jinsu wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow her up or for her to cease to exist.  Her mother was either pretending to be oblivious or was actually so; Minseok didn’t look quite like he was in the same situation as Jinsu, but he was definitely uneasy, eyes darting nervously between Baekhyun and Jinsu’s father, and he swallowed when it became obvious that they recognised each other.

To be fair, Baekhyun wasn’t helping himself at all.  His voice had barely been calm as he asked for drinks orders, and his hands were shaking so hard it looked like he was about to snap the pen he was intending to write with.  His jaw, Jinsu noticed, was so tightly clenched that the skin around it was near bloodless, and his eyes looked about ready to shoot lasers.

The worst thing was that her father had obviously noticed, and even if he hadn’t been able to see the name tag, Jinsu suspected that he would have known it was somebody from the Byun family purely by the hostility radiating off the waiter in front of him, regardless of whether or not he’d actually seen Baekhyun since. . . well, Jinsu didn’t even know when.  And knowing her father, he was not going to take well to blatant hatred, especially from somebody he considered beneath him.

Jinsu saw irritation and disgust flickering in her father’s eyes, but he did a much better job of masking it than Baekhyun.

“I’ll have a glass of the Le Pin, and my wif—”  He abruptly looked up, frowning at Baekhyun, who was halfway to the door.  “I’m sorry, but do all the staff here just walk off halfway through serving their guests?”

“I’m a minor, sir.”  Baekhyun’s tone was clipped and bordering on derisive.  “Anything involving alcohol needs to be done by somebody older than me.”

“Then why can’t we have a waiter who can actually tend to what we need?”

Baekhyun evidently didn’t think the question merited a response, rolling his eyes as he left the room.  It was easy to see him doing so from Jinsu’s vantage point, and she was inwardly relieved that her father appeared to have missed it.

“How unprofessional,” Jinsu’s father grumbled, but before he could say anything about complaining to the manager later, his wife placed her hand on his arm.

“I’m sure they’re doing their best, darling.  You did book at exceptionally short notice even though they said it was an incredibly busy evening and they technically weren’t free.  It was very kind of them to squeeze us in.”

Park Jiwoon grunted, apparently still not thrilled.  The door opened again and Baekhyun returned with somebody nearly twice his height and looking distinctly older than him.  Jinsu just about caught sight of a name that looked Thai on the name tag.  It was clear the second waiter was either new or knew next to no Korean – quite possibly both – because he hovered incredibly close to Baekhyun, looking rather nervous despite their obvious .  Seeing the newcomer had a pen out, Jinsu’s father began again.

“A glass of the Le Pin, please—”

The Thai waiter turned to Baekhyun, who scrunched his nose up as he listened to whatever the newcomer was saying.  Then he turned to Jinsu’s father again.

“I’m afraid we only sell that by the bottle, sir,” Baekhyun told him.  Park Jiwoon ignored him.

“I still want a glass.  My wife will the Domaine—”

“That’s also only sold by the bottle, sir.”  Baekhyun took the pen off the Thai waiter before he could write it down, now looking royally pissed.  “The wines sold by the glass are all at the top of the menu if you want to pick from them.”

Jinsu winced as her father’s eyes wandered further down the page.  He was deliberately being difficult.

“Minseok, I hear that the Krug champagne is very good,” he said, now brushing Baekhyun off completely.  “Can I offer you a glass of that?  It’s your success, after all.”

Minseok looked absolutely trapped.  Jinsu could tell what was going through his mind: it would be rude for him to refuse and go for something much cheaper instead, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to contribute towards being an awkward guest, not when this was the brother of his friend.

Baekhyun snapped around towards Minseok with a just audible sigh of relief, clearly expecting some kind of rescue, while the other waiter stood there quietly.  Minseok looked guilty for a moment and opened his mouth, probably to attempt some kind of compromise, but Jinsu knew that her father wouldn’t just leave it at that.

“Dad, Minseok’s tee-total,” she jumped in quickly.  “It’s rude to put him on the spot like that.”

Baekhyun and Minseok both blinked, surprised and completely in sync, but Minseok’s shoulders became less tense.  Jinsu wondered how well Baekhyun must know Minseok to be aware of his drinking habits, however slight.

“Rude,” Jinsu’s father echoed under his breath, accompanied by a tut.

“I’ll just have lemonade,” Minseok said in an attempt to diffuse the awkwardness.

“Me too,” Jinsu jumped in, and Baekhyun’s expression darkened again.  Jinsu noticed he wasn’t writing anything down.  With obvious reluctance, Baekhyun turned back to Jinsu’s parents.

“Just a glass each of those two wines,” Park Jiwoon said, now taking on an affable tone.

The other waiter started back into life and looked to Baekhyun for guidance.  Whether or not Baekhyun noticed it was unclear.

“Sir, as I said, I’m afraid we only sell them by the bottle.”

Jinsu’s father just looked at him.  Jinsu could almost sense Baekhyun’s desire to wilt under that gaze, not least because she’d been subjected to it so many times herself.  She nearly – nearly – felt a smidgeon sorry for him.

It had to be admitted that Baekhyun sort of made an effort at that particular point.  “It would be expensive, but it may be possible to offer you the full bottles of each if you’d like, sir, and you could take the rest home.  It’s just that company policy is that wines sold by the bottle are only sold by the bottle.”

“No, I don’t think we’d have any need for it at home,” Park Jiwoon said dismissively.  “It doesn’t taste as nice if the bottle’s been open for more than a day.  Speak to your manager about it.”

Jinsu thought she saw Baekhyun’s jaw clenching again, but he gave up, murmuring something to the other waiter and sweeping away the wine menus to exchange them for food ones before they both disappeared through the door again.  She slumped with relief, tension exiting through with a sharp sigh, and picked up the card that had more or less been tossed in front of her.  It showed signs of previous use – faint creases here and there – and somebody must have played absently with the top right hand corner, because it curled a little and was noticeably thinner and fuzzier than the other corners.  Sensing danger was over, Minseok also relaxed.  A very heavy silence descended over the table, though, and Jinsu fidgeted uncomfortably, wishing that Jimin was there because he was very good at handling this kind of situation.

“Why would he bring back somebody who doesn’t even speak the language?” Jinsu’s father grumbled.  “Surely it would have been a better idea to get the manager?”

Jinsu wondered if he would have been so difficult were the manager there, but thought it wisest not to say anything.

It was Jinsu’s mother who started conversation again.

“Minseok, why don’t you tell us about the hop you made earlier today?  Jinsu and I only know that it happened; we’re dying to know what it was actually like.”

Minseok managed a smile, and just like that, the entire atmosphere shifted back to something much lighter.

“It was a bit terrifying to begin with because I didn’t know if it was going to work,” he said.  “We decided a short hop back was best.  Just fifteen minutes.”

Jinsu perked up.  “So did you see yourself working on the machine?”

“Oddly, no.”  Minseok put his menu down, apparently decided on his food.  “We’re unsure as yet exactly why that was, though our chief scientist reckons it might have something to do with molecular or cell regeneration or something, or potentially personhood in general.  It wasn’t like my existence had been completely wiped out, so my past was still there.  It was just that I seemed to have an opportunity to rewrite what had happened fifteen minutes before without meeting myself from fifteen minutes ago, if that makes sense.  We’re unsure what would happen to somebody who travelled back, say, five or ten years into the past.  Their younger self might exist there or might not – we don’t know.  Either way, it’ll be interesting to find out.”  He shrugged and grinned.

Jinsu couldn’t help a smile in return.  “If your former self wasn’t there, then how do you know it was fifteen minutes back?”

“The clocks,” he said at once.  “Everybody in the machine’s geared up with a special watch, too, look.”

He held out his wrist to her, and Jinsu saw a watch on it with two analogue faces, with a third circle with what looked like a digital stopwatch.

“These took a while to make,” he told her, now getting so absorbed in the subject that he didn’t notice the Thai waiter returning with all their drinks, Baekhyun hovering in the doorway to ensure it was all going okay and announce that the manager sent his apologies for not being able to provide the wine desired, but that instead they were being given the best house wine on tap on the house.  “The top face is for current time; the botto