daybreak | yoonmin

april 14th.

7:12 p.m.

"Thank you."

The worker nodded and was on his way. Jimin settled into his seat across from Taehyung, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the back of the chair. The linen white tablecloth was topped by glistening silverware and china, even a small clear vase filled with to the brim with water. On the water's surface sat a small lilypad.

"I love the atmosphere of this place. What's this restaurant called again?" Taehyung smiled, looking around the room.

"It's called Ochoa."

"It's so modern and chic. Reminds me of our apartment."

"Yeah," Jimin shifted in his seat at his boyfriend's word choice, "Yeah it does."

"I'm kinda digging the black and white minimalism, you know? It's usually a turn-off for me unless its monochrome-- You know me,  I like contemporary modern stuff. But this is surprisingly an aesthetic pleasure to me. I never knew this restaurant was so close by."

Taehyung noticed Jimin's gaze on him and chuckled, "What?"

"You look good, Taehyung. I could just take back you home right now." Jimin's lips curved, "I didn't even know you've been working out."

"Yeah, well I was getting tired of looking like a twink all the time. It started with squats, but I thought I might as well get the package deal and work my arms too." He replied.

"Mmm," Jimin hummed, folding his hands. His eyes hooded in adoration.

"Welcome to Ochoa!" Came a foreign and feminine voice. Jimin was startled and sat up straight to look at the redhead hovering above their table, "I'm Areum and I'll be your hostess for tonight. Can I interest you in any drinks or appetizers?"

7:29 p.m.

Yoongi rolled his sleeves back, a variety of seasonings and flour all over his palms. The heat of the kitchen was intense. He darted around trying to get back to the monitors to get another order to prepare, bumping past other coworkers, trying to ignore the sweat on his neck. Tonight was a busy night. Orders were flooding the monitors, waiting to be filled.

He tapped the screen of a free monitor and found a list of waiting orders, listed from most to least recent. He typed his name into the one at the top of the list, sent it through, and went back to work. Fuck, I don't know what the order is. He went back to read it over again.

"Ravioli Inammorati, Cebiche." He said aloud to himself, so not to forget. He went to the pantry and freezer to pull out the ingredients, still going, "Innamorati, Cebiche."

He cut the first pineapple in half and got straight to work at his station.

It didn't take very long for him to prepare the dishes. Yoongi, although having been recently employed at the restaurant, caught on quickly and had mastered most of the menu -- aside from desserts and cocktails. He even inspired the lobster bisque he was making, which had become a big hit in the seven months of his employment. He was favored by Don Iglesias, the senior chef who seemed to favor nobody but treated him like a nephew.

Before Jimin, he was the object of all his teasing. Don couldn't help but like Yoongi, which Yoongi knew and was quite smug about. But he was humble still in spite of easily earned promotions and astounding culinary talent. He knew that being favored by Don still meant walking very, very thin ice. The ice was thinner even. The expectations were high.

Although Don took a liking to him, he ran a tight ship and was ill-tempered. Ochoa was a restaurant of prestige and only the finest cooks made the cut. Apparently Yoongi had a job because Don had told Mr. Paranzetti to fire the last junior chef for overcooking some rice one time during the evening rush. That could be him, too. It didn't help Yoongi's case that Paranzetti's wife disliked him either. One slip up could be fatal, and he would have moved all that way from home for a job he couldn't even keep.