Seokjin only scans the paper for a second before gently setting it aside on the desk. He folds his hands neatly in his lap and stares up at Jimin, caught somewhere between confusion and disappointment. The air in the office is bitter cold, and Jimin bites the inside of his cheek to keep his teeth from chattering.
"What is this?"
"My letter of resignation," Jimin replies. "I put in my two weeks at the bookstore, too."
"Have you found employment elsewhere?" Seokjin asks slowly. It's obvious that there's another question sitting on the tip of his tongue.
Jimin hesitates, then opts for honesty and shakes his head. "No. I haven't. I decided... I'm not finishing my degree, either."
Seokjin's eyebrows skyrocket. "You're what?"
"I can't do it, Seokjin, I can't—" Breaking off, Jimin agitatedly runs a hand through his hair and fixes his gaze elsewhere in the room. There's an old photograph of Seokjin's parents together in front of the restaurant when it first opened hanging on the wall near the door. They're glowing, excited smiles stretched across their faces. Proud of turning their dream into a reality. "I can't do it."
"Jimin... If you're worried you'll fail—"
"It isn't about that."
"Then what is it about?" Seokjin demands. "I've watched you work yourself to the bone for the past two years—you've come in for your shifts so fucking exhausted you could barely stand and now you're just going to quit? If this is about that alpha, I swear to fucking God—"
A hot burst of anger roils in Jimin's gut. "That alpha is my mate. So what if it has to do with him? So fucking what?"
"Because I'm not going to watch you throw everything away just for some alpha who waved a few stacks of cash in front of your face! I know you're in a difficult situation, but I never thought you'd stoop so low as to sell yourself off to the highest bidder."
"Then maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do," Jimin says through his teeth. He snatches his resignation letter off the desk and crumples it, shredding the paper, tossing the pieces in Seokjin's direction. "I won't bother coming in on my next shift, since whores don't work in nice establishments like yours."
It takes every scrap of willpower Jimin possesses not to cry as he storms out of the office. Seokjin calls after him, but Jimin ignores him, striding across the dining room and exiting the restaurant. As he steps out onto the sidewalk, his phone vibrates in his back pocket. Assume it's Seokjin, Jimin ignores it while he crosses the parking lot to get to the Mustang. When pulls his phone out to check, however, the missed call is from Yoongi. Even though he will undoubtedly be the first person Seokjin runs his mouth to about Jimin quitting, there's no way that's what this call can be about. So, Jimin takes a deep breath, steels himself, and calls Yoongi back.
"Hey," he says when Yoongi answers, doing his best to maintain his composure. "Sorry, I was in the bathroom. What's up?"
"So... A friend of Taehyung's called me this morning asking for a favor."
Jimin can't help furrowing his brows, because—as far as he's aware—Taehyung doesn't exactly have friends. "Oh?"
"That omega you work with. The one at the bookstore, Dutch," Yoongi says. "Says his mate's gonna be away on business and he's nervous about bein' alone this close to his due date. So he asked if I knew anyone he could stay with, and like—I dunno, I kinda got the impression that he was asking if he could stay with me. So I told him he could."
"Wait... Wait, how do you two know each other?" Jimin asks. He can only remember a handful of occasions when they might've come into contact with one another.
