The weather forecast didn’t say anything about the rain. I laid on the black couch placed at the center of the coffee shop and closed my eyes, appreciating the night I’ve been craving for weeks. Code Kunst’s Parachute was playing through the shop’s sound system as the sound of the rain drops falling on the roof blended with the song. It was a cold night, but I didn’t bother turning the air condition off.

It was 20 minutes to 11 o’clock, I was the only one in the coffee shop. Mr. Han and his nephew left me when the clock 10. We already cleaned, made sure all appliances were unplugged and the backdoor was locked. I was already out of my uniform and all of my things were already prepared, I was so ready to get out. But a boy promised to pick me up at 10 o’clock. Obviously, he was already more than half an hour late. I hate waiting, I’m not really the type of person who’s patient enough to wait even just for 10 minutes. However, Min Yoongi is an exception. He gave me the greatest opportunity I’d probably never be able to receive again if I ever turn this down. I was tired and couldn’t wait to go home, but I wanted to make things work with my music. I needed to be patient.

“,” I whispered when I read ’10:46’ on the clock of my phone. The next song played, another Code Kunst song where we got to hear BewhY, Suran, and YDG. It made me forget the fact that I was waiting for someone who was already 46 minutes late. It was a good night after all; it was cold and raining, and I had nice tunes playing.

I abruptly pushed myself up from the couch when the door chime made a sound. Min Yoongi was wearing a shirt with Thrashers Magazine’s logo printed across his chest, which wasn’t the one he was wearing earlier that afternoon. His ripped jean showed his paper white knees, and it made me feel conscious about myself. It wasn’t the perfect day to wear shorts.

“I love this song,” he chuckled as he looked around the place, as if it was his first time there. “Just so you know,” he added.

“Nice.” I smirked. “Me too.” I grabbed my drawstring bag sitting right beside me. “Wait here, I gotta turn off the air condition and the speaker.” I ran to the kitchen and did everything that must be done before leaving. I checked the back door, the sockets, and the lights in every room even though I knew we already locked, unplugged, and turned off the stuff.

“You’re late by the way,” I said as he watched me walk out of the kitchen, to the front door. “Almost 50 minutes.”

“Glad didn’t make it an hour,” he replied as he followed me.

It was still raining hard, the shop’s porch was too small for us not to get drizzled by the misty breeze. “Got an umbrella?” he asked loudly, trying to fight the noise of the rain.

I shook my head.

He groaned before opening a transparent umbrella. I spotted a black 2017 Ford Ranger parked right in front of the shop. I assumed it was his since it was the only car around. The distance of the pick-up truck from the porch was far enough for me to get terribly wet if I ran to it without an umbrella.

“I don’t want my car seat to get wet,” Min Yoongi said. He spun his right arm across my shoulder and held my right arm to make sure I’d be as close to him as possible and we’d be walking on the same pace. His left hand carried the umbrella, so he had to hold it between us and that didn’t seem right at all. The umbrella was too small for the two of us, the effort was kind of pointless since my right arm and his left arm were both soaked by the rain. For some reason, I felt kinda nervous and awkward. Who wouldn’t feel that way after being held close by an extremely good-looking man? I knew my cheeks were burning up, good thing it was too dark for anyone to see how red I was.

He pulled the door to the passenger seat and allowed me to go inside. When he slammed the door shut, I breathed loudly as if I just ran a marathon. I watched him run to the other side of the car and when he finally got to sit on the driver’s seat, he sighed. “Well, apparently, umbrellas don’t seem to be that useful.” He said as he dry himself up by wiping his left arm with his right hand as if he was just dusting it off.

“So where are we going?” I asked, watching him start the car.

“My studio,” he replied. “Didn’t I tell you that already?”

“Where exactly is your studio?”

“It’s not that far, don’t worry.”

I didn’t say any word for the rest of the car ride. I feel like I was in an awkward and weird situation, when it doesn’t really mean anything. Well, I do those things. I overthink and assume. I know I do it a lot of times, and sometimes it gets unhealthy, but I can’t help it. Let’s face it though, a lot of girls would kill just to be in my place: late night ride with Min Suga while the rain pours hard, sounds sweet.

But yeah, it was just a car ride.

The car was filled with silence. Whenever I started hearing the annoying high pitch ringing on people’s ears when there’s a complete silence, it would quickly fade. It was either because of the engine’s sound or Yoongi’s fingers tapping some beat on the steering wheel. After a few minutes, he got bored of the silence and turned the radio on. A cover of Love Me Tender was playing and surprisingly, he didn’t change the station. I expected him to play some western gangster rap because he seemed like that kind of person.

The pick-up truck went in an underground parking lot of a six or seven story building and I knew we were there. It wasn’t that far from the Salon de Café, it was just a fifteen-minute ride. But it was kind of far for a coffee-break-from-work venue.

We went down the truck and walked through the empty parking lot. It kinda gave me the vibe of some Zombie movie film, since it’s a generic setting for a zombie chase in the movies.

“Hey, why do you go all the way to Samseongdong just to get an iced black coffee?” I asked as we stopped in front of the steel silver door. “I spotted a branch of Starbucks a block away.”

“Your place is full of old and lonely business men.” He pushed the elevator button and watched the number outputted on the floor indicator decrease. “They don’t give a about my presence, which is what I really need. Meanwhile, coffee shops around here are full of nosy young girls.”

He walked in the elevator first once the doors parted and pushed the button labelled “5”. “How about you, why do you work at a coffee shop? Why not apply for a label and work as a producer?”

I rolled my eyes at the idea. “It’s not that easy, you know.”

“Yeah, but have you tried?”

Well, I tried once. I was still in college back then. I spent most days writing lyrics and most nights producing beats. Instead of listening to my professor babble about the laws of thermodynamics, I thought of rhymes that could perfectly express my thoughts and write them down on my books, overlaying the information I should’ve been trying to understand. Everyone loved the finished product and my friends told me about a company looking for a skilled producer. At first, I didn’t want to apply because of the consequences. But my friends motivated me to do whatever the I want and find where I really belong. Unfortunately, after sending my song to the company, they asked for more and I couldn’t provide another one. So I stopped and just carried on being independent.

“Yeah, but that didn’t work out,” I answered, as if that question didn’t bother me.

“We’ve all been through hell.” Min Yoongi shrugged.