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Yoongi

"Yoongi, bring table four the eggs and biscuits."

I pick up a tray, grabbing the appropriate plate as I glance around the tiny kitchen. "Drinks?"

"None," the head waitress Hana gives me a harassed look, her permanent frown more apparent with annoyance. "You should know this, it's your table."

I nod, hurrying to the swinging doors where I push my way through, making my way carefully to table four. "Eggs and biscuits."

The young guy nods, not even looking up from his computer screen, and I set down the plate, slightly annoyed at his lack of acknowledgement. "Can I get you anything else?"

He shrugs, not looking away as he types furiously, and I turn, disappearing into the kitchen again, muttering under my breath. "Asshole."

"Are you clocking out?" Jae calls across the room to me from where he whisks eggs, tilting his head to call me over, and I lean on the counter next to him, glancing around to make sure Hana won't see me idling.

"If I stay another hour I get paid for overtime."

Jae rolls his eyes, tossing the mixed eggs into the pan, the accompanying sizzle making throw him an annoyed look. He knows how much I hate stoves, and I don't trust him with them.

"You don't need overtime, you need a nap."

"I'll get behind on rent."

"I'll cover your half of rent if I have to," Jae rolls his eyes at me, flipping the egg disk with a practiced flick of the wrist. "Go back to the apartment, don't you work at Blue Sky later?"

"Yeah." I frown, untying my apron from my waist. "I'll see you later."

"Hell no you won't, I'm going to be asleep when you get back from the hippie club."

I toss my apron into the dirty basket in the corner of the kitchen, giving Jae an frown. "Most boring roommate ever."

"Says the man who's either locked in his room or working his ass off." Jae raises an eyebrow at me and I shrug, turning to the computer to clock out.

"I'm leaving."

Hana nods acknowledgement as I slip out the side door, letting out a breath in the warm autumn air, the humidity making my shirt stick to my skin already.

I walk slowly down the street, eyes on the ground, making my way to the apartment Jae and I share, unlocking the door and flopping into the couch; my eyes close almost immediately, exhausted.

I jolt awake as my phone rings, reaching for it, still half-asleep as I raise it to my ear. "Hm."

"Min Yoongi, where are you?" Hoseok's hurried voice fills the line, the chatter in the background making it almost impossible to hear him. "Your shift started twenty minutes ago, if you were anyone else I'd - "

"Fuck." I'm fully awake suddenly, rolling off the sofa, stumbling into my room. "Ten minutes."

"You ass, you don't even live ten minutes away." I can practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Just get over here as fast as you can and I'll pretend you were here the whole time."

"Okay." I hang up, heading to my closet to carefully pull a loose shirt from its hanger, buttoning it over my chest, slipping on a pair of slim-cut jeans as I search for my earrings on the table next to my bed, slipping on hoops in each piercing. Not what I'd usually do, but it works.

It's already a half hour after I was supposed to start, and I take my time walking the mile to the bar, knowing Hoseok isn't going to be that upset as long as I show up.

It's dimly lit as usual, the soft lights casting a low golden glow over the bar, and it's crowded for a Thursday, soft voices and smoke puffing from the groups of people clustered around the small tables. I maneuvre my way to the piano in the back corner, letting out a breath as I pull out the bench, letting my fingers skim the beaten up wood of the old upright as I open the lid covering the ivory keys.

Hoseok appears from the kitchen door right next to the piano, pausing as he sees me, looking harassed. "Good, you're here."

"You're not at the bar." I glance toward the oak counter, and Hoseok nods.

"We're training a new guy, this promotion to manager is really going to screw with my bartending." He shrugs, tapping the piano with his fingers, the same constant energy as always manifesting itself in the way his fingers tap, his leg bouncing slightly. The man can never stay still. "He seems like he'll be fine. Cute guy."

"Hm." I turn back to the keys, stretching out my fingers, and Hoseok presses his hand to my shoulder, an affectionate slap.

"Play your heart out. No break, though, since you were late."

"Kay."

He nods, then disappears into the smoke, and I turn my attention back to the piano, my fingers gently caressing the keys, picking out a simple melody, a scale to warm up before I let my feet hover over the pedals, pressing gently as my fingers wander from the scale into a song I used to listen to when I was younger, picking out the notes from memory, letting my mind wander to when I'd place the record in our big family record machine, watching the disk spin as the needle lowered onto the treads.

I don't even remember the name anymore, just the song itself, and as always the piano has the notes just right, the melody and backing and imitation of the original track flowing from my fingers to the keys, and I let myself become absorbed in the music, closing my eyes, leaning into the soft sound of the piano.

It's always been a home for me. A safe space, a beautiful escape from the multiple jobs I work.

Tonight, my eyes keep wandering to the bar, catching light hair, a slim figure, but I can't make out more than that of the new bartender, instead turning my attention to the keys.

Hoseok said he was cute, which means something. He doesn't praise easily.

I suppose I might as well get a drink.

~

This story, Piano Boy, I began writing a while back. I will try to publish chapters while I'm not able to write more of One Night, and continue when One Night has been completed.

Thanks for reading.

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