Looking for heaven, found the devil in me
Looking for heaven..
Found the devil in me
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Jeon Jungkook goes on a search to find his boyfriend after the police proved no use.
What was expected to be a silly search wi...
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The guy is athletic-looking and rather tall, with dark, wavy hair. His nametag simply reads ‘RM’. A nickname, Jungkook assumes.
“One regular coffee…” He hesitates, glances at the menu, but decides to skip out on the pastries. He’d just like to leave. “Um, to go, please.”
“Sure, coming right up!” the barista replies.
“Thanks.”
“But you have to drink it here.”
The last comment makes him look up from his wallet. He frowns at the barista, whose smile is now tinged with slight nervousness. His gaze drifts off to the side and towards the open door of the staff room, where two other baristas have appeared – one of them is blonde and owns a piercing stare, while the other one is the complete opposite, looking somewhat unfazed by the whole thing.
“Uh – excuse me?”
“You have to drink your coffee here,” the blonde one repeats sharply – Yoongi, according to his nametag.
“Namjoon,” the other guy says, turning to the barista who took his order, “please remember to tell the customer right away.”
“Jin's right, we don’t want any awkward questions. We’ve been over this.”
“I’m sure there’ll be awkward questions anyway –”
“Wait –” Jungkook interrupts the discussion, starting to feel the same uneasy way he did back at the shrine. “What the hell kind of coffee shop doesn’t offer coffee to go?”
“This coffee shop,” Jin counters evenly. “It’s just the way it is, I’m afraid.”
“Guys –” Namjoon begins uncertainly. “Maybe we can just this once…”
“No, we can’t,” Yoongi snaps, a panicky edge in his voice. “This won’t just magically end, you know.” He turns his sharp gaze back at Jungkook. “You want your coffee or not?”
Jeon almost declines. He’s already suspicious and quite frankly a bit offended at the treatment he’s receiving as a customer. The town continues to creep him out in unknown ways but if he doesn’t get some caffeine in him now he’ll probably regret it later on in the form of an accident. He doesn’t want to go back to the gas station and god knows how many miles until the next convenient rest area. This is his best bet right now.
“Yes, okay,” he mutters, reluctantly giving up. “I’d like my coffee, please. It better be exceptionally good.”
“Let me show you to your table.” Yoongi steps out from behind the counter and gestures towards a table in the corner, by the window. “Your coffee will be served shortly.”
Nervously, Jungkook looks outside to make sure he’s still in the same place. His car is within view, nestled safely in between all the other cars lining the empty street. It’s funny how the shop can be so full when there’s not so much as a stray cat out there.
It’s in that moment it suddenly dawns on him.
Nobody is talking to each other.
There’s soft music playing in the background and muted noises coming from the kitchen, but the customers aren’t saying anything. The place lacks the usual murmur of a coffee shop. He can only hear his own pulse loudly in his ears. Something’s very wrong.
With growing dread he turns away from the window, his movements jerky, his brain protesting. From his table in the corner he can see the entire room. At first it looks like a normal crowd of all ages and sizes, all of them crouched over their coffees in deep concentration.
But the longer Jungkook stares, the more he realizes he’s just looking at shadow figures. He’s surrounded by shadows shaped like people… or people who have somehow turned into shadows. He can make out hairstyles and body types and fashion tastes – but no expressions. Everyone’s faces are dark, blurry, in various stages of transparency. Right across from him sits someone he thinks was once a young woman, her silhouette superimposed on the counter in the background. The image is warped, like he’s watching through a broken lens, but he can make out the outline of the cake display and the tip jar. He’s reading the words ‘HAVE A GOOD DAY’ through the transparent face of another person.
“I’m sorry.” Namjoon appears in front of him, blocking his view. He places a cup of coffee in front of him, his expression apologetic. “I know this is no consolation but it’ll be quick.”
Jungkook swallows, his throat dry, and he wants to ask what the hell is going on but he’s just not capable. He blinks at his black coffee, rooted to his seat. It’s strange but he feels a sense of belonging and responsibility here. If he leaves now he’ll abandon numerous souls, souls that need him for balance, and the despair is suddenly so strong in him that he couldn’t have moved even if he wanted to.
