Jam Jam

Seokjin nervously drummed his fingers across the tiny counter top in his truck. It was early in the morning, six o’clock the last time he checked, and he could faintly see the white mist of his own breath make clouds before him. Behind him, the stove in his cramped food truck was warming up, generating heat for the upcoming confections.

Now if only he had some customers.

Any customer really.

‘Should I have invested in more advertising?’ He thought in what could only be described as the beginnings of dismay. Jimin did have a lot of followers on the internet, but why would any of them bother to pay attention to the little known food truck the man had posted about?

Still, he would sit here all day if that’s what it took for at least one person to show up and try his food. It had taken all Seokjin’s will and all his courage to even make a bid on this second-hand truck full of worn and familiar appliances and utensils from his own kitchen. It had also taken an extreme amount of fussing and cleaning and primping to get the truck looking as fine as the day it was first driven off the lot by the previous owner.

‘I don’t think Jimin’s advertising methods are working,’ Seokjin finally decided, giving a resigned sigh as he backed away from the little serving window and focused instead on his truck. Directly across from the serving window, there was a countertop cooker he liked to think of as a stove for dwarves, next to it was a good foot of counter space, a sink, and of course the ice chest serving as his fridge of sorts was placed under the countertop. It wasn’t much, but everything was clean and meticulously neat.

It had always been a dream of his to become a baker, or a famous and highly sought after chef. When he was younger, he used to pretend to do interviews and explain how to cook his favorite dishes like the celebrity chefs on TV. However, life wasn’t always able to work as planned, and Seokjin had settled at a desk job for most of his late teens and early twenties. He was nearing thirty in less than three years, and while it was a little late to be changing his entire career path to chase an old childhood dream, he couldn’t help but snatch this golden opportunity.

The mini stove was fully heated now and Seokjin could see the faintest lines of steam rising from the surface. Immediately moving to the ice chest, Seokjin popped it open and pulled out a plastic covered bowl. He had spent the greater part of the night mixing flour, eggs, sugar, and milk to create the basic batter for crepes.

Of course, once Seokjin had taken off the plastic, he couldn’t resist reaching for his spice shelf and throwing in a dash of vanilla and some secret blend spices to make everything absolutely delicious.

A light oil layer was spread over the cooker with a paper towel and soon Seokjin was pouring a thin layer of the batter over the heated surface. A faint sizzle could be heard before it quieted with a soft hiss, and moving quickly, Seokjin grabbed his favorite wooden spatula and spread the batter into a perfect circle.

In less than a minute, the first side of the crepe was done cooking and in a practiced maneuver, Seokjin carefully shimmied the wooden spatula under one end and loosened the crepe. From then on, it was easy to flip the treat over and finish off the other side.

Since no one had actually ordered anything (or even showed up yet) Seokjin laid out the crepe on some decorative wax paper and let it cool as he dug through the ice chest once again and took out his carefully prepped bowl of fresh fruit. Strawberries, blueberries, bananas, raspberries, and various other fruit were stored in the container in separate compartments. Initially he had felt a little out of place in the supermarket, buying stackable containers with the moms and old neighborhood women, but the organization was worth it.

Opening the strawberries, Seokjin’s mouth began to water. Each strawberry was sliced vertically and fanned inside the bowl in a neat display. He wasted no time in spreading an even layer of the strawberries on the inside of the cooling crepe. Once done arranging the jewel toned fruit to his liking, Seokjin grabbed his can of whipped cream and the familiar whoosh of it fill his food truck with sound. Once done, he folded the corers toward the center and made a cone like shape.

Humming to himself, Seokjin was about to fold the decorative wax paper over the crepe when he noticed something missing.

The chocolate drizzle!

Gasping to himself, Seokjin bustled about and almost tore up his little food truck looking for the bottle of homemade chocolate he had melted down into a fine sauce last night. He had stayed up late making that!

“E-excuse me?” A timid voice asked.

Surprised, Seokjin dropped the lid of the ice chest over his fingers and yelped loudly, almost falling over as he yanked his hand out of the bind and frantically waved his hand in the air, as if that would make the pain lessen some.

Amidst his flurry of activity, Seokjin didn’t bother looking up at his first customer of the day (his only customer really) until he was standing and shoving his stinging fingers into his mouth. He had a habit of doing that, especially since he knew from experience that on one of his own cuts would stop it from scabbing over. He found that saliva, as unusual as it was, was also good for soothing burns and throbbing wounds such as smashing fingers under a very heavily insulated ice chest.

(If it helps explain things, his stepmother was also a cat-hybrid. Jimin would say old habits died hard. Like, really really-)

“Uhm, sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” The voice interrupted. Noting the nice, soothing and slightly scratchy tone to it, Seokjin finally looked up and he almost choked on his second surprise of the day.

Standing in front of him was a male cat hybrid, ears and tail a soft white, fur slightly longer and almost silver toned in the cold pre-dawn. The January cold had formed frost in the hybrid’s hair, and Seokjin almost wanted to grab a blanket and drag him in front of a fire place before he towel dried and combed the hybrid’s pretty pink dyed hair. The next thing he noticed about the cat hybrid was that he was surprisingly tall, the tops of his ears reaching at least three inches past the bottom half of the too tall serving window.

Big brown eyes were looking up at him in worry, full bottom lip the color of ripe strawberries pulled between rows of pearly white teeth and being bitten nervously. The hybrid was ridiculously good looking, a rare combination between handsome and pretty, and Seokjin was immediately floored.

“Should I come back later…?” The hybrid asked in a contrasting smooth and husky velvety toned voice. A white ear twitched and it was now Seokjin realized he had been staring, and that the cat was very cold. The hybrid was bundled up in a fuzzy scarf that engulfed his chest and neck like a blanket, a matching beanie with a white pouf decorating the top adorned the hybrid’s head, slits in the hat allowing white ears to fit outside the hat. An oversized coat completed the cozy winter look and though he looked unbelievably cuddly, Seokjin could see his ears and tail shiver in the frigid air.

Seokjin snapped to attention and he almost shouted at the unsure hybrid to stay in place while he turned his back to the serving window and got to work.

The hybrid hadn’t specifically ordered anything from the ridiculously frilly, borderline calligraphy written menu bolted to the side of the truck, courtesy of one Park Jimin, whose handwriting was too pretty to read sometimes. It was almost ironic that the little doctor’s scrawl was too fanciful to read, rather than looking like illegible chicken scratch like the stereotype surrounding every doctor’s penmanship.

One thing Seokjin was grateful for thinking to add to his menu was tea, since warm crepes and hot tea sounded perfect on a clear but bitterly cold day such as this one. The coffee pot used to brew tea was stuffed between the counter top and the back door of the food truck and due to his late night prep work, all Seokjin had to do was throw a bag of flowery jasmine tea into the pot before pressing the on button. His unfinished crepe was still sitting on the counter, half done and miraculously warm.

With a practiced hand, Seokjin grabbed his successfully hunted chocolate sauce and drizzled it over the folded crepe in a pretty crisscross pattern. He made sure to coat the strawberries and cream sticking out of the crepe as well and with a few expert origami worthy flicks of his fingers, the crepe was folded into the pink wax paper printed in his signature (an unnecessary expense if one asked Jimin, but Seokjin found it essential, how else would his name be known if it wasn’t practically written on his food?).

By this time, the pseudo tea maker beeped and Seokjin grabbed a paper cup and a lid, filled it with tea, honey, and sugar. He was a little clumsy with stuffing the lid on top of the steaming hot cup, but he soon had the warm crepe and the hot tea shoved out of the serving window and into the face of the surprised cat hybrid.

“Here! This is on the house, you’re the first customer of Jin’s Signature Crepes!” Seokjin said a little breathlessly as the hybrid wrapped eager mittened hands around the cup of tea and the crepe. He had practiced saying that line in front of a mirror and sometimes Jimin for weeks before he had finished cleaning and renovating the truck. The name needed some work, but he was just a beginner to the food industry and he was fine with the title for the moment.

“Oh, thank you!” The hybrid grinned happily, almost giving Seokjin a heart attack with the cute dimples that made an appearance.

Feeling his face heat slightly, Seokjin cleared his throat and grabbed a rag to clean his already spotless counter, never once leaving the serving window because he wanted to see the hybrid’s reaction to his favorite crepe.

The cat seemed to be in no hurry, in fact he languidly sipped his tea and almost burned his tongue in the process. Seokjin had to hide a chuckle at the sight of the hybrid’s red cheeks and sheepish grin. The crepe attempt was more graceful and Seokjin felt his chest warm in pride and relief when the hybrid bit into his food and immediately groaned in appreciation at the taste.

“Wah, this is so good!!” The hybrid hummed enthusiastically around a mouthful of crepe. It shouldn’t have been as cute as it was, but Seokjin found himself grinning and watching the hybrid devour the strawberry, chocolate, and crème crepe with muffled compliments and excited twitches of white kitty ears and tail.

The tea was all but forgotten in favor of the crepe and once he was done, the hybrid accidently bit into the pink and gold wax paper. Sputtering, the cat hybrid spit out the little piece of paper he had bitten and this time Seokjin didn’t hold back his laugh.

The hybrid flushed down to the sliver of skin not covered by his scarf, which he tried to hide behind in mortification. A mumbled “Oh God why me?!” could be heard by Seokjin and the crepe chef felt his heart melt. He had never met such an endearing person before, and unlike his usual self, he decided to put his flirt and his looks to use (actually, he did this quite frequently, according to one evil doctor Park Jimin).

“I’m glad my food was so greatly appreciated.” Seokjin teased lightheartedly.

“That wasn’t food, that was art.” The hybrid replied in a shy murmur. Cupid himself had nothing on the shot Seokjin’s heart received in that moment. It was decided then and there, he couldn’t let this one disappear, charm would have to be implemented.

Keeping the winsome smile on his face, Seokjin leaned closer to the hybrid through the window and tried not to get distracted by the flustered dusting of pink on ruddy cheeks and the flutter of pretty eyelashes over even prettier eyes.

“If you tell me your name cutie, I can make more art.”

The wink might have been a bit much, because the hybrid’s ears flattened to the top of his soft woolen beanie and his flush darkened from a sweet strawberry color to a deep cherry stain.

“I-I’m not cute, but I’m Kim Namjoon. M-may I have more crepes, please?”

Seokjin had never been happier to comply.

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