Park Jimin was like sunshine, that was the comparison his friends concluded fit the most. He was a ball of energy, and even the grumpiest old people couldn’t help but crack a smile when he was around. He majored in modern dancing at Korea National University of Arts, and otherwise worked in a coffee shop near Hongdae. He was a rather easy-going person, and knew his way around the city. Most people on campus knew who he was or had at least seen him around, referring to him as either ‘Park Jimin’ or ‘the guy that won the dance competition with Jung Hoseok last year’. Seeing how the dance competition was a pretty big thing and people either knew Jimin or Hoseok anyways, he had become quite known after that performance and was still greeted in the hallways. Normally Jimin hung out with a couple of his friends, but he could be found pretty much anywhere if one just looked. He was usually spotted with the airy Kim Taehyung though, and the two were known for joking around with everyone.

People liked Jimin because of his positive character and joking nature. Jimin didn’t like crudeness in general, and always did his best to be nice to other people. His mindset was positive and he enjoyed the little things in life. Therefore, taking the bus to work with a lot of grumpy old ladies and coughing businessmen like he did every day, wasn’t that bad. He often gave up his seat to the older women, no matter if they looked nice or not. Everyone was equal to Jimin.

The real problems started when he started working one day. His lectures started later that day and his shift was early, at 8 a.m. sharp. Brushing his dyed brown fringe out of his eyes he made coffee for impatient men in suits, preppy ladies in stilettos and dead-looking students. Many of the people who came around were regulars, and knew him well.

The line that day wasn’t very bad. Usually it was pretty long but today it seemed smaller and more organized, to the happy relief of Jimin. His co-worker had called in sick at the last minute, leaving him alone until a replacement could come. And as he was taking the order of a student looking suspiciously like he had pulled an all-nighter, he studied the people in the coffee shop. There were some people sitting inside, but most people had their coffee to go. Behind the student a lady was standing as she tapped away on her phone, and behind her again was a boy with his hair stuck under a beanie and a couple of big and seemingly expensive headphones wrapped around his head. He was probably only a couple of years older than Jimin himself, and he was nodding his head slightly to the music he was listening to, as his gaze seemed to wander uninterestedly.

When the student left the lady looked up at Jimin and then put away her phone, ordering a caramel cappuccino. Jimin nodded as he wrote her order on the cup, turning to make it.

He was just done with the order for the young woman when he noticed the small slip of paper she slid over the counter to him with a swift flick of her wrist. And although Jimin had experienced this a couple of times before, he was still surprised when he read the number and the cute handwriting spelling out “call me” and the expectant look in their eyes. Sometimes Jimin felt like he should accept out of courtesy, but he never did so seeing how he had never been instantly attracted to the person. He believed that when it first was going to happen it needed to be mutual, as accepting something he didn’t want didn’t seem fair to the other person. The woman on the other side of the counter was pretty, no doubt about that. She had silky, dark hair that fell in waves down her back and a face right out of a commercial. But Jimin still didn’t want to call her, and he needed to clear up the misunderstanding before it escalated.

“Uhm, yeah, about that…” he muttered, wondering how he should phrase himself. “I’m not… I mean, I don’t… swing that way,” he said, trying not to make her feel bad. He scratched his neck in awkwardness, giving her an apologizing smile. It went quiet for a few seconds, and her eyes widened in realization. They stood there and looked at each other for a few seconds, Jimin in evident discomfort about how the situation had turned out and the woman in utter surprise. Then someone behind them coughed impatiently, and the woman quickly grabbed her coffee before speed-walking out.

The next person in line was an older man. He looked very expensive, from his pinstriped suit to his short-cropped, grey-and-silver-streaked hair and straight composure. He had a cold look in his eyes, studying Jimin like he was some kind of exhibition. It made Jimin a little bit confused as he was sure there had been another person before him, but he shrugged off and flashed the man a wide smile. It was not returned. The man eyed Jimin up and down, studying him judgingly before sighing in disapproval.

“Hello and welcome,” Jimin greeted politely, trying to ignore the look he was currently getting. Maybe the man just had a bad day, everyone had those once in a while. “What would you like to order?”

The man just waved him off. “Get me another employee,” he said sternly.

Jimin furred his eyebrows in confusion, not really understanding the situation. “I’m – I’m sorry,” he stammered, startled by the cold treatment he was getting. “But I’m the only one here right now,”

The man rolled his eyes. “I cannot believe this shop, which was once so nice, has degraded itself to employing fags. This is such a fall,” he said. Jimin wondered how the man could possibly know about his ual orientation for a second, but soon remembered the woman before him. The man had probably heard it. Now, Jimin knew he was a part of a minority and that the old generation wasn’t as open to modern ideals, but he still felt hurt. How did who he loved have anything to do with the man’s coffee? It wasn’t like he was going to spit in it, homouality wasn’t contagious. Seemingly the concept in itself was incomprehensible to some people.

“I… I am sorry,” he muttered, not knowing what he should do next. It was still five minutes until his co-worker arrived, so he couldn’t do anything.

That was when someone else stepped in. Jimin recognized him as the person who initially had stood behind the woman in the queue but then had disappeared for a short while. He was around Jimin’s height, and he had dark eyes and dyed light red-orange hair, a contrast to his pale skin. He wore casual clothes, a denim jacket over a simple white t-shirt but with a red plaid-shirt tied around his waist, ripped jeans and a pair of Air Jordans. He looked like he belonged in a rock band of some sort, Jimin found himself thinking. But unlike before when the boy had been smiling, his style now matched the look on his face. As he stepped forward from somewhere he flashed a sarcastic smile, malice was visible on his face.

“I think this was my place in the queue, thank you very much for keeping it for me,” he said with an eyebrow raised, daring the older man to say something. The latter seemed like he wanted to protest, but was probably being momentarily speechless by the nonchalant, condescending look he was given.

“Also,” the boy continued, stuffing his right hand into his pocket. “You’re a pretty damn petty person for behaving like you do. Shouldn’t you be ashamed or something?” he then shook his head like he was disappointed in the man, giving the man once last chance to say something back.

When the man didn’t, the younger of the two customers turned to a surprised Jimin. “I’m sorry you have to go through that,” he whispered under his breath as his features softened slightly and became a genuine smile, although anger was still very much visible. “I’ll have two double Americanos. When do your co-workers arrive?”

Jimin answered with a short “five minutes,” and the boy nodded slowly before leaning backwards slowly.

“Then just use extra time making my coffee, and I’ll use extra time finding my money. Your other friends will be here in that time,” he said. Jimin slowly recovered from his shock as the boy talked, and thanked the boy in a low voice as the turned to make the two orders. He was just done when his co-worker came in the door, and the boy seemed to notice as he sent Jimin a winning look, like he knew it would go exactly like he had planned. He paid, but instead of walking away he remained in his place.

“It seemed like I bought two coffees, but there is only one for me. Would you like to join me? I need someone to drink it with me,” he said with arched eyebrows, inviting Jimin with expectant eyes. Jimin caught on at once, but furred his eyebrows in hesitation even if he found himself strangely wanting to go.

The boy just rolled his eyes, seeing the slight doubt in Jimin’s eyes. “Hey, I have two anyways now. You’re done and I have nothing to do either. Look upon it as a payback, okay? I helped you with that horrible guy; you help me with drinking the one I bought extra. It’s not like I’m asking you to have with me,” he said.

This made Jimin laugh, and he nodded. “I guess I have to, then,” he accepted. “I’m Jimin,”

The boy stuffed his hand in his pocket, holding his coffee in the other. “I’m Yoongi. Now, shall we go?” 

not proof-read, probably really bad but it's 2 a.m. and I don't even care anymore. also my brother joked around on my computer and everytime I write any of the names in BTS it now says Bob or Phil. If you read those names somewhere, that's because I haven't noticed it changing. Sorry.