Stay ~ A Stray Kids Fanfic

Jeongin

Jeongin's POV
That Night

The air was more balmy than usual, it gave my walk to work a sweeter scent to my lungs. With fall finally here, the nights were unpredictable. Sometimes I had to pull out my winter coat, as useless as it was with rips and holes, or sometimes I would dread wearing my uniform jacket because of the heat. Needless to say, tonight was perfect.

I only realized the possibilities one could do on a warm night would be shattered the second I entered the air-conditioned, stuffy gas station. Minho was already waiting behind the register, playing on his phone as a few customers lingered around, either searching for snacks or what to get wasted on tonight.

Minho glances up for a split second before greeting me with a, "hey, Jeongin." I show a wave, taking in the red polo with a white collar that we both wore, our names pinned to our left breast. I was happy to see only us two working on the schedule. It'd make time go by faster knowing someone in the circle was there to do it with me.

I take my place beside him, leaning my bag against the cigarette shelf before forwarding my weight on the counter beside him. He shuts off his phone and looks up to me, a smile coaxing his lips. "Hey, kid. Ready for your first night shift?"

     "Ready as ever," I reply, showing him a thumbs up for extra reassurance. He nods once just before a man buy a pack of beer approaches the counter—in which he then straightens his posture.

     Minho checks out the customer, asking him if he wanted to donate two won to charity and wishing him a good night. Just when he leaves, Minho puts his hands at his hips and eyes the shelf stacked with cigarettes behind him.

     "I should be restocking the pop aisle, but," he trails off as he reaches for a pack of Marlboro. I feel a smile tug at my lips, Minho following suite as he pops a stick in between his Pearl-white teeth. "You want one?"

     I shake my head in a subtle no, keeping my smile up as he shrugs and closes the box. "You're not gonna pay for it?" I ask.

     "Don't need to. The owner allows me 2 packs a week for taking night shifts." He shrugs again as he pulls the panes of the window down, letting the warm, night air rush in. "It's equivalent to paying me, so he cuts me a break once in awhile." Whether it was a lie or not, I make no move to stop him.

     He flicks the wheel of a lighter, letting the spark carry its flame to the cigarette and igniting a warm glow at the tip.

I met the owner once for a quick interview, only to be cut off short and hired on the spot once he explained how they were short on staff. I remember feeling a rush of happiness on the bus ride home. It wasn't my first job, but it was certainly nicer than doing dishes at this old diner towards the western side of Seoul.

     Just when the chill of the wind seeps through the open window and returns to my senses, the bell of the door signals an incoming customer. Minho keeps on smoking, only waving once in greeting.

     It isn't until they fully enter—holding a video camera and bags of takeout—do I drop my jaw and clasp my hands over my mouth.

     "And as you can see here," Chris says, pointing the camera directly at me and then Minho who was now laughing at the sight of the six boys. "Here is Jeongin and Lee Know." The last of Minho's nickname drags on into a singsong tone that leaves Minho flipping Chris off with a clear smile on his face.

     "You can fuck off with that name, Chris," he chuckles before tossing the rest of his cigarette outside.

     Jisung shoots a glare at the stubborn boy who just follows suite with a wink. Chris sets three bags of takeout on the counter, the smell wafting into every corner of the stained, musty room. "You guys couldn't come to hot pot, so we brought the hot pot to you."