Trouble

Bills

"Is...is this where you grew up?" I looked around the beautiful paved streets of the city. So unlike Seoul. There were lesser people, lesser cars, and so many more trees. I loved it. I gave him a side –long glance, and noticed that he had been looking at me. When we make eye-contact both of us look away, heat rising up to my cheeks.

"Yeah. This is where my parents' restaurant is." He says, pocketing his hands in his coat as a breeze blew by. It smelled like rain. Now that I looked around the area, I realized that there was a great probability that it would rain.

We cross a road and begin walking towards the right side of the huge junction.

"How could you move to Seoul after living here?" I wondered. It was a given for people from Seoul to stay where they were because they tended to never adjust anywhere else, but when people from smaller cities moved in...that would be hard.

"I hated living here," He sighed, looking down at the ground as we walked in a slow, steady pace. People walked past us in a hurry. It was almost lunch time now, and I felt my stomach begin to grumble. I placed a tentative hand on it, politely asking it to calm down.

"Why?" I asked him, as we slowed to come to a stop in front of a little restaurant that was built into the side of a four-storey apartment building. I looked at him as he looked at something inside the restaurant with a sad expression on his face.

"Because this was it for me. I was destined to do what my father did," He pointed to the entrance and I pulled the door for him. He shook his head, asking me to walk in first. How different from when we first met, I wondered.

"Hello," He said as he entered the nearly empty restaurant. I looked around at the interior. It was a small space, with ten tables, or such. There was a counter on the other side, with a small cash register, and big print out of the dishes available here. I cleared my throat as I waited nervously next to Yoongi. Two people emerged from the open kitchen directly behind the counter. The woman, in her mid-sixties, had on a hair net, and a red apron. The man, around the same age, was wearing a red cap and apron, with a notepad hanging from the pocket of the apron. His face grew grim as he saw Yoongi.

"Suga?" I looked nervously at Yoongi, who seemed to look just as grim as his father. I bit my lip and decided to diffuse a bit of the tension by introducing myself.

"Hello, my name is Park Eun In." I bow and smile at the couple. They both realize that someone else was there as well, and instantly smiled and acknowledged me. The mother announces that she would finish up the one order that was left for time being, and then come join us. The father sighed and led us to a table away from the one table that was full.

"Is everything okay, Suga?" Mr. Min sat down on a chair and motioned for us to follow. Yoongi coughed awkwardly and looked at his father. "Yes, Father. I just had something to tell you," He starts, placing his fists onto the table as he sat down opposite his father. I took a seat at a table that was next to theirs.

"What happened?" His father urges, eyebrows snapping together, and a line appearing on his forehead.

"I was offered a contract, Father." He says, his words rushing together. I set my lips together in a straight line as I look between the father and the son.

Mrs. Min ran out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, and joining us at the table. The extremely silent table. She smiles and sits down opposite me. "Suga, it's so nice to see you, son." She places a tentative hand on his fist. Yoongi looks at it sadly.

"He signed a contract, Ji Soo." Mr. Min tells her, looking at Yoongi with something unreadable playing in his mind. Mrs. Min takes away her hand and looks at Yoongi in awe.

"Really?" She exclaims, clapping her hands together and looking at her son in awe. "I knew you could do it! You have to eat some chicken before you leave," She says, getting up and scurrying into the kitchen, returning in under two minutes with a basket of fried chicken, and a few sauces on the side.

She pushed it towards me, urging me to eat. I politely declined, however, she said, "My son is finally chasing his dream. It calls for a celebration." She pushes the tray toward me and gives me a smile that is very similar to Yoongi's. I nod my head and begin to eat.

"I should have thrown it away when I had the chance," Mr. Min scrapes his chair harshly against the ground and pushes away from the table. "Tell him to pay before he leaves," He puts on his cap, and walks away from us. Yoongi looks at his father's back as he leaves. His knuckles had turned completely white. Mrs. Eun, on the other hand, was busy drying the tears that had begun to flow from her eyes.

"Don't listen to him, Suga. I knew you would do this, really!" She smiles giddily and holds up a piece of chicken to feed it to him. He smiles and leans further to take a bite. We discuss what he would be doing, and how he would also be helping Taehyung pen some of his lyrics while trying to branch out to other artists. He would also be working on his own album. His mother pinches his cheek, ruffles his hair, and even kisses him on the cheek. He was red with embarrassment and soon enough it was time to leave.

"Mother," He pauses before walking toward the exit.

"This is for you," He removes a little receipt from his pocket and hands to his mother. She reads it and looks at him with confusion on her face. "I knew you wouldn't go to the bank to check, but I have made a deposit of some money. You will be able to pay off all the bills. Don't worry, okay? If you don't have any money, just call me." He folds her hand onto the paper and hugs her before we leave.

He waves from the windows, and I was able to glimpse a teary eyed Ms. Min before she disappeared from my view.