Park Jisung has just been rejected by a five-star hotel for a job position.
Of course. He's just a high school student with no experience, not even studying in a hospitality school. What did he expect? It seems he was too ambitious. He had predicted this probability. So, he didn't feel too heartbroken. But still.
Upon returning home, he was shocked to see firefighters walking away from his recently burned-down house. Nothing was left except charred remains and smoke billowing too much into the air. No casualties, just his parents mourning amid dozens of onlookers capturing the scene for social media. How ironic.
Jisung screamed and cried. He had left this place just this morning, and returning in the evening, only to find his family experiencing this disaster. He yelled at his parents for not informing him earlier. He knew he wouldn't have helped even if he had come back sooner. Nevertheless, he had the right to know because it was also the place he sheltered, grew, and was raised. He had thought he would die in that house. But the small building left him first.
Several hours passed, and everyone returned to their respective places. Almost everyone. One person offered shelter to Jisung's family. That guardian angel didn't hand them a whole house, of course. It sounded too extravagant from someone he didn't know. He intended to share a spare room in his house while they waited for a new place to live. Jisung's parents accepted gratefully. Jisung would have thanked too if he remembered. Unfortunately, his mind was dominated by poignant memories of the house he would leave.
Jisung, just a student leading a normal life at his school, not popular, not a nerd, not a champion or a class star, just one of the hundreds being normal. He had a few friends, though none particularly close. News of the house fire spread quickly throughout the city, earning him sympathetic looks. He didn't like such looks. He didn't want pity even though, in reality, he deserved it. Some people expressed condolences directly, and he responded with a thin smile and a thank you. But deep down, he felt diminished. He didn't express that because he wanted to appreciate his friends' concern.
Nevertheless, everything swirling in his mind allowed him to misinterpret people's intentions toward him.
Jisung now has a new home, meaning a new life. He thinks he should try something new outside of that.
So, he intentionally gets off the bus halfway through the journey to his new home.
Playfully, he enters an alley he hasn't passed before. He doesn't know where that small road will lead, but he wants to adventure. So, he continues to walk to find answers.
He sees a small, inconspicuous shop at the dead-end after a few dozen steps. It's just a small pastry shop that is too intriguing not to enter. He wonders who would start a business in such an out-of-the-way place. Oh, come on. This is not a strategic location to sell food. Who would pass through a dead-end alley anyway? But Jisung shrugs off his own doubts and tries to act indifferent to the part of him that cares about those questions.
A bell rings as he takes the first step inside. His eyes briefly lock with a boy about his age before the boy shouts, "Dad, we have a customer!" and rushes deeper into the room. Jisung judges the boy's expression to be a mixture of surprise and joy. And Jisung thinks, ah, of course, there's never a customer in a closed shop like this, making the boy that happy.
He takes a seat at a table with one chair facing another when he hears a voice shouting, "I'm busy! Please serve him first!" The middle-aged man's voice doesn't sound angry. He sounds like he genuinely has something urgent.
"Okay, Dad!"
Soon, the boy returns to face Jisung, presenting various cakes on a large plate. Jisung is slightly surprised. He has a good memory and believes he hasn't said anything to order here.
"This is today's special menu."
"What's your name?" Jisung asks.
"Huh?"
"Your name." He repeats the question that made his conversation partner wonder.
"Zhong Chenle." But he answers plainly.
"Park Jisung."
"Huh?"
"I'm Park Jisung. You're too surprised. We just met a few minutes ago."
Yes, that's precisely why Chenle is surprised. It's only been a few minutes, and Jisung is already curious about his name. And what Jisung finds out, the boy is from the land of the bamboo curtain. Now everything makes sense when seeing all these cakes amd cookies in front of him, which are typical of that country.
"Sit down." Jisung continues.
"Huh?"
"Say 'huh' again, and I'll leave."
"Don't! Uh, okay." Chenle takes a seat in front of Jisung.
"Now, can you introduce their names before I eat them?" Jisung points to the food on the table. Chenle nods with a smile, introducing and explaining the philosophy behind the cookies sincerely.
Jisung pays attention. He struggles to listen to the words coming from Chenle's lips. But he feels like he's just witnessing a silent scene when watching Chenle's eyes. He's fixated on that, ignoring the names and meanings that he thinks are too much for his currently single-minded brain.
"How is it? Do you understand?" Chenle asks, making sure.
"Huh?"
Chenle laughs, "Did you even pay attention?"
"Huh?"
"Say 'huh' again, and you have to pay three times the usual price."
"Huh?!"
Chenle laughs again before saying, "Never mind. Just eat them. Enjoy."
He gets up, finding Jisung looking at him disapprovingly.
"Can't you accompany me to finish all of these?" Jisung asks.
"There's still other dough I need to finish. Besides, I'm tired of eating all the cookies I make myself."
"You made all of these?"
"You already know the answer." And after saying that, Chenle really walks away from Jisung who is frozen in place.
Did Zhong Chenle really make these cute cookies himself? Jisung just digs in. And, not bad, he thinks. After all, he can't make something like this himself. He appreciates Chenle.
At the same time, he reflects that his life is not that bad. He still has a place to live. He's still formally studying. He still has many friends who care about him. And unexpectedly, he finds a small shop with a sweet boy making cakes inside.
Just a few minutes later, Chenle returns to the room where Jisung is. But that one customer is no longer in his place. Chenle approaches the table and grabs a piece of paper on it. Reading the writing on its surface.
"I like your cookies. I will pay three times the usual price. Contact me."
He flips the paper and sees a row of numbers forming a phone number.
.
End
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FanfictionPark Jisung's life is not as bad as he imagined ©2018, ichinisan1-3