The Cop From Busan || •PJM• ✔️

15.

Click the star if you want a bear hug from Jimin.

☂ Chapter 15 ☂

Weeks went by.

Jimin's arm became usable again. The shooting in Times Square stayed on the news and left a stain on NYPD's reputation. Jungkook had gotten reprimanded and was given one last chance to turn the department around. Jimin hadn't known how to help, which led to him taking more jobs than usual with his bestie Kasper. Not that it mattered. Unlike Busan, NYC was swarming with crime. One completed case meant nothing. For every one case done, a dozen more piled up until they swam in their own failures.

"You're brooding," Jungkook said, which snapped Jimin out of his thoughts.

The chatter from fellow restaurant patrons nibbled on his ears. Waitresses dressed in over-the-top cowgirl outfits zoomed by. Their sneakers creaked on the wooden floors and their obnoxious hats bounced on their heads. All of them carried trays of beer over to the men who hooted and hollered whenever a woman so much as breathed in their direction. Jimin found it sickening, but apparently the restaurant was Jungkook's favorite place.

In a way, Jimin could see why, and not just because it was right down the street from the station. There was a jukebox that suffered from interference almost every song it played, the bar had horseshoe stools, and there were more horse paintings than menus. Speaking of which, the menu was simplistic but featured many southern dishes Jungkook had taken a liking to. Ever since Jungkook had arrived in NYC, he had discovered his love for cornbread and mac and cheese. Jimin preferred Panda Express, but who was he to judge?

"Just thinking," Jimin said before taking a sip of his Miller Lite. It was disgusting. Jimin saw it as a cheap excuse for beer. Quite literally, it was watered down alcohol pretending to possess a taste.

Jimin's chair was more like a rocking chair from the way it squeaked every time he made the smallest of moves. The table was no better. Why did the restaurant feel the need to make everything wooden? Jimin couldn't stand the constant creaks, and it didn't help that the people were irritating and ate with their mouths open.

There was one redeeming quality: the smell. Nothing beat the scent of melting cheese as waitresses brought mountains of mac out from the kitchen. Of course, the kitchen was hidden behind swinging saloon doors. There was a cowboy hat hung above the entrance, and some of the men made it a challenge to see who was tall enough to poke it. Not many could, not even Jungkook.

"You've been putting off our conversation for weeks now," Jimin said as he leaned forward. Jungkook sipped from his chilled glass but didn't take his eyes off his menu. "Hello? Earth to Jungkook?"

Jungkook hesitated. "What if I promoted you to detective?"

Country music blasted from the jukebox, burping men laughed and banged their fists on their tables whenever someone told a joke, and waitresses clapped their hands to keep the energy in the restaurant up, yet after Jungkook fired out those words, Jimin felt as though New York City went quiet.

Jimin had to chug the rest of his beer to find the strength to reply. "Excuse me?"

"NYPD is sinking," Jungkook said as he set the menu down, revealing his walkie-talkie on the table right in front of him. "The trafficking case is colder than Buffalo, and the shooting in Times Square certainly didn't help. If I'm getting fired, I'm making damn sure I give you what you deserve before I go."

"I deserve it?"

"You were at the center of the trafficking case, you helped solve the shooting while injured, you've been picking up more cases than half of the damn department. If anything, it's insulting I haven't given it to you yet." Jungkook paused to take a sip of his drink. Foam got on his upper lip, and he licked it up with a sigh. "I promoted Y/n to officer."