Camboy

Coffee Shops and Pain

Ye Seul sat at the round, small table at the coffee shop, constantly checking her phone for any new messages.

Cake 'n Coffee wasn't that busy on Saturday. Hell, there weren't more than thirteen people maximum as soon as the shop opened. Ye Seul knew this, she'd been waiting. She pulled up her woolly scarf so that it covered half her face and flicked her (dyed) brown hair out of the way.

Her hands lay limp on the table, the baby blue interior of the coffee shop almost perfectly matching the sky blue material her turtleneck shirt was made from. Yet she felt as if she stood out like a sore thumb. The dude she was supposed to meet was late, almost half an hour to be exact. This was supposed to be a new start for her, a whole new life away from those controlling people.

She should have listened to Jungkook's warning.

Mindlessly, Ye Seul picked up her third coffee and chugged it down, not caring about the hot liquid burning her throat. As she did this, her chocolate brown eyes scanned across the small coffee shop, looking for someone in particular.

"I'll wait at least..." She lifted her thin wrist and checked the time on her watch, "...ten minutes. If he isn't here by then, I'll leave."

Six minutes flew by like nothing and Ye Seul had already started her fifth cup of coffee. An icy-cold gust of wind blew across her pale exposed legs and she refused to shiver, especially not in public.

Why didn't I wear a fucking pair of jeans?

Winter wasn't for another three months and, unnaturally, there was already mounds of snow piled up in the busy streets of Seoul. Praying to God that she had brought extra padding, she dug through her handbag seated on a chair next to her. Only mere minutes ago was Ye Seul complaining and groaning about how stuffy it was in the coffee shop. Finally, after what felt like hours of searching, she snatched up a rumpled cardigan.

"Thank God." Ye Seul praised as she draped the long, woolly cardigan over her pale trembling legs. As she trembled due to the wintry, late morning air and smelt the bittersweet aromas wafting through the air, Ye Seul waited as she watched couples (hand in hand ) come and go; she would be lying if said she didn't feel the tiniest bit of envy.

Bummer. Guess it's onto the next guy.

Quickly and hastily she tidied away her belongs and stuffed them into her already bulging handbag. Her pink fingertips brushed against her pencil case, and without her realising, crashed onto the tile floor.

Ye Seul waited a couple seconds, wondering if anybody would have the decency to help her pick it up.

No one bothered to even look in her direction.

"Well, so much for cliches..." She murmured as she knelt down, tucking her short skirt with one hand just in case it decided to expose her. The tips of her fingers just managed to skim the soft fabric before her pencil case was snatched away. Startled, Ye Seul eyes raised to lock with a pair of black, gentle eyes. Time seemed to freeze. Her hands started to become clammy.

"A-Aren't you-"

"Min Yoongi? Yes, I am." The man whispered as he stood up.

Ye Seul's eyes never left Yoongi's as she stood up. Not even to notice an out-stretched hand offering her pencil case to her. Noticing this, he grunted so that she could be brought back to attention; thankfully it worked.

"Are you Ninaxoxo?" It was Yoongi's time to question and he was silently praying that he didn't go into the wrong coffee shop again. Only did he sigh in relief when the shocked girl vigorously nodded.

"That means..." Ye Seul trailed off, her eyes trailing down the producer's slender neck, "...you're Suga?"

The young man nodded and slowly slinked into a nearby chair.

The young woman followed suit.

"How old are you?"

"I'm turning eighteen i-in a couple weeks." The girl nervously hiccuped, feeling crushed under the pressure of meeting a famous man who created her favourite songs. Ye Seul fumbled with her pale fingers timidly. She couldn't believe she was doing this. However, Ye Seul had gone in way too deep and it would be rude to just stand the man up, no matter what social ranking.

"Eighteen in a couple weeks." Yoongi echoed, taking note of the fact. "Call me up when you turn eighteen."

Taken aback by the older man's words, the lass peered at the gawked at Yoongi with her mouth agape. "Wait! Where are you going?"

The producer ignored her question as he stood up from his chair, making his movements at a leisurely pace so that...

A dainty hand grasped onto the green sleeve of Yoongi's bomber jacket, tugging desperately at the material. He whipped his head around so that he faced a bright red girl whose eyes were hidden underneath her silky, chocolate coloured hair.

"I'll ... do it?" At first, it came out as if she was questioning her judgment, "I'll do it."

Yoongi was silent for a while, meditating on the words Ye Seul had just delivered to him. He turned to face her slowly, dark abyss for eyes fixated on her red, plump lips then finally turned his attention to her milk chocolate eyes.

"Sure." Yoongi sighed, letting his free unsteady hand rake through his tousled hair. "But it's not my fault if anything happens to you."

His large, veiny hand slid against her waist, plumps lips crashing into each other with such a force that it sent pleasurable shockwaves through them. Sweat shone on their naked bodies, their sore red lips moving with such intensity.

Jungkook curled up tighter into his soft, blanket burrito, feeling uncomfortable with the obscene movie Hoseok and Namjoon forced him to watch. The poor boy was squished between the two of them, both the older men raptured by the scene that was unfolding in front of them. Jungkook turned to Namjoon whose mouth was hung open in lewd excitement, "Hyung, can-"

"Shh, the best bit is coming up." The older hushed the maknae, eyes fixed on the television screen as if he where completely raptured.

The low hums of the television desperately attempted at putting a distraught boy at ease.

His plump hands ripped away at his greasy rose-gold hair as he whimpered and whined in agony. A broken beer bottle lay beside him, it's ragged edges dripping with congealed crimson red liquid. It soaked into the porous woodwork underneath like paint, it's earthly, tangy smell crawling into his nostrils.

Jimin lay there, dazed yet fully aware of the millions of fragments of glass sticking out of his hair. From the massive, sore gash on the back of his head, out poured a repulsive milky white substance which stained his fingertips along with the rusting red liquid.

An ominous silhouette stood over him, nudging Jimin's bulging stomach with the tip of their bloodied sneakers, "Quit your fucking whining!"

Jimin whimpered, black dots connecting as he tried to focus his dilating small pupils. Another broken beer bottle scraped against the stained wood panels, sounding through their noiseless apartment.

"Ya want something to cry about?" The figure lifted the bottle high with one hand, ready to strike. "Fine, I'll give you something to cry about..."

His eyes squeezed shut.

The shouts and screams grew louder.

Until they finally ceased.

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Hello dear readers!

Yes, the rumours are true. I am back from the dead (or what my mum calls being grounded).

Q from the author: Who is your bias?

Jin?

Yoongi?

Hobi?

Namjoon?

Jimin?

Tae?

Kookie?

unedited