Blood Sweat & Tears: A BTS Story ✅

Chapter 35: The End

If there's one thing I've gotten good at over the last month since I was fired, it's making a good cup of coffee.

"Rose, can you grab a crate of two-percent milk from the back?" My new manager Elise asks me.

"Yes!" I trill and put the mop back into the bucket and head to the back room.

Hyuna was able to get me a job at a local coffee shop by my house called Brewed Awakenings.

"I thought it would be better since you don't have the extra expense of transportation," she told me, and I was so grateful for her thinking ahead for me.

Yeah, I probably could have gotten this job on my own but the fact that she went out of her way and found it for me was so kind and with its convenient location I just couldn't turn it down. The hours aren't consistent or steady, sometimes I need to be at work at four-thirty in the morning while other days I don't have to come in until half-past five at night to work the stock shift until well into the night. The pay is not nearly what I was making while working for BHE, but it's better than having to move back to America. Sometimes you have to take the small wins when they show up.

I've only been working here for a little over two weeks and Elise and all my coworkers are so nice and kind. The pace of the job is pretty slow compared to working for BTS, but I think it's a blessing in disguise. I get time to really focus on myself instead of burying myself under my job and putting all my focus on others.

So now when I think of the boys and BHE and all of the other crew members who work for BTS, I feel thankful that I had the chance to work for them. So thankful for the opportunity that I had. I try not to feel sad that I haven't seen the boys in over a month, I've been feeling sad for far too long. And I try to hope that someone was sent to help them through the rest of their tour so they aren't alone and that they don't miss me. It's better for all of us if they don't miss me. Their career is going to be long and many people have worked for them and new people will come in and work for them too. Soon I'll just be another past assistant of theirs that was fired, I'll be another one of those stories employers tell new hires about what not to do. I've reconciled with that and I finally feel like I'm starting to be okay.

It was a big learning experience and I'm happy to have had it, but now it's time to focus on my future. It's time to keep looking ahead and no longer keep looking behind.

The back room of the coffee shop is just a giant space full of shelves that hold all of the stock we need to keep the store running and wedged in a corner is a giant walk-in fridge. Stepping in is like walking into an ice palace and I can't help but shiver in just my short-sleeved shirt. The uniform is very simple, black pants and a shirt with the shop's logo on it and an apron.

I stand on my tiptoes to grab the blue-capped milk from the top of the stack and just barely am able to lift it without falling over.

Elise laughed at me on my first day, "Don't worry, you'll have really strong arms after a while of lifting milk crates."

Something to look forward to, I guess.

I kick the fridge door closed with my foot and use my butt to open the swinging door to enter back into the main part of the shop.

When I turn back around what I see startles me so much that I drop the milk crate on my foot.

"Ow!" I howl out in pain, hopping onto the non-injured foot.

"Are you okay?" Elise turns back from the register to look at me, her face scrunched in a motherly worry.

"Yes," I huff out in pain. At least none of the milk cartons broke open.