The unluckiest day ever starts off with a bang.

Literally.

Jongin wakes up to the loud crash of either (a) thunder, or (b) his best friend/roommate Sehun banging the door close on his way out of their shared apartment. Maybe both. Heaven knows why Sehun would want to go out in the pouring rain, yes, it’s pouring, Jongin confirms as he hears the loud patter of rain outside. He surmises that it probably has something to do with (a) Sehun’s tough-as-nails-but-scared-at-the-pettiest-of-things exchange student friend Zitao, or (b) His boyfriend Luhan. Then again, maybe both.

Jongin rolls over his bed to grab at his phone on the nightstand to check the time. He opens one eye blearily and sees that it’s only 6 in the morning. He snuggles back into his duvet to catch a few more hours of sleep.

The louder than loud thunderclap that sounds then sends him yelping and sprawling out of bed in surprise. He groans as he ends up on the floor tangled in his sheets, head smarting from when he hit it on the edge of the nightstand during his unprecedented wrestle with his duvet. “So much for more sleep.” He mutters darkly as he disentangles himself from his blankets, heart hammering in his chest.  

Sehun is undeniably whipped, Jongin decides in his head. No one in their sane mind was going out in that weather. He trudges to the kitchen, blanket still half draped around himself. His eyes wander warily to the telling cupboards. He opens the refrigerator and sighs when it finally clicks.

Jongin curses.

Of course.

The only thing that would drive Sehun out of the house at such an unholy hour and unreasonable weather aside from his Chinese social ties.

They didn’t have food. At all. Jongin remembers belatedly that they’d run out of all kinds of food in the apartment two days prior, both of them having been too busy with schoolwork and other stuff (read: hanging out with Chinese friend and Chinese boyfriend, on Sehun’s part; read: dancing and being a lazy bum, on Jongin’s part) to haul their dance-toned asses off to the grocery to get the necessary items to live. Namely, the source of nutrition called food. They’ve been calling for deliveries and/or eating out to keep alive the past few days, but of course Jongin couldn’t do that today.  

No one in their sane mind was going to go out, much less deliver in this weather.

Jongin groans again and decides that he needs caffeine now that his adrenaline rush from earlier was wearing off. Not to mention, all that thinking about food only leaves him with a grumbling stomach.

He steps into the bathroom after discarding his wrestling opponent on his bed, mind set to go out and brave the absurd weather outside in favor of being able to eat. He’s in the middle of showering and is shampooing his hair when the power cuts off, water heater immediately failing to function. Jongin ends up shouting expletives as he shudders because of the sudden cold, trying to rinse off as fast as he could while simultaneously moving away from the shower to get the least amount of contact with the freezing water. Which, as one can tell, is impossible given the obvious contradiction of his actions.

He slips on his way out of the shower, years of dance training saving him from accidentally emasculating himself when he ends up in a half split on the slippery floor. Jongin huffs as he rights himself.

Then he trips, and takes the shower curtain down with him on the floor, sprawled in the most unattractive manner with the curtain sticking to his body in the most uncomfortable of sensations. He bites his lip to keep from crying when his day gradually gets worse and worse with each passing moment, holding back tears even when he ends up spurting shaving cream on his toothbrush because he was too distracted nursing his bruised elbow from his intimate moment with the floor just moments prior.

He gets dressed, thankfully not experiencing any accidents with that, and shoves his phone into his pocket, grabbing his bag and scavenging the mess of his room for his umbrella. Once he finds it, he scurries out of the apartment, and yelps for the second time in one morning when a loud thunderclap once again booms the out of him while he’s pulling close the door of the apartment after checking it's locked from the inside. He changes his mind and checks for his keys in his pocket to get back in the apartment, but said items are nowhere to be found. “Hell no.” Jongin says, checking his bag for good measure.

Nope.

Jongin’s locked himself out of the house.  

He decides to continue heading out anyway. I’ll just text Sehun later, he thinks. “It couldn’t get any worse than this.” He mumbles helplessly as he knocks his forehead on the door in frustration, wincing when he painfully gets reminded of the bruise there.

But, today being the unluckiest of days, of course it does.

He discovers that his umbrella doesn’t open properly, a result of not having gotten it fixed from when it got battered by the wind when he last used it, so Jongin’s left holding a pitiful excuse of an umbrella against a torrent of rain seemingly hell-bent on drenching him.

Jongin nearly cries in relief when he at last spies his favorite café as he rounds a corner, sopping wet nearly from head to toe. He runs the last few paces and gapes.

The.

Café.

Is.

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