Home alone|yoonmin|

Chapter 4

"Wait what's his name?"

Hoseoks eyes widen, almost comically as he curses quietly to himself "Shit guys, I forgot to ask, sorry I guess" Jimin giggles at his half-assed apology as Taehyung just rolls his eyes.

Park's gaze wander back to the table were the handsome stranger sat, he felt strangely sad to find it empty. The seat pulled out as if he was in a hurry to leave and didn't have time to push it back in, his half-eaten bowl of noodles abandoned and the chopsticks presumably used to eat them forgotten on the floor.

He looks back when he feels the presence of the waiter, only this time, it's a different waiter. She places the hot bowls from the tray down to their table, careful not to ruin her long acrylic nails and Jimin smiles as he sees a rainbow-coloured heart pinned to her collar, with the phrase 'love is love' printed on top in thick black writing.

The steam wafts into the air, the scent along with it. Jimins smile falters when he smells the familiar smell of salmon

"Uh, excuse me, ma'am, is there fish in the soup?" He questions I thought I ordered lobster... "Yes, salmon noodles like requested. Is there something wrong with it?"

"I ordered the lobster noodles, also, im allergic to fish"

Her mouth forms an 'o' shape and she quickly bows as an apology "I'm so sorry sir, they must've gotten something mixed up, I'll take this back to the kitchen and receive your order, once again, I'm sincerely sorry" The waitress picks the bowl up and quickly rushes off, ignoring the obvious burn to her hands.

Once she is out of sight, they laugh together. Not at her specifically, but the whole situation was just so hilarious to them.

"You guys eat, don' wanna keep ya waiting," Jimin tells, his friends shrug, "Kay" Taehyung mumbles as he begins to slurp on his noodles, Hoseok repeating the youngers actions.

--

Jimin cautiously entered the house, slowly closing the door until it clicked. Park smiled as he saw no one sitting on the couch waiting for him.

He felt giddy, today had been an awesome day, almost stress-free and it's something he hadn't been able to enjoy in a long time.

The boy pranced upstairs, opening his bedroom door with a large smile on his face. He switched on the light and span around, ready to go to bed. But what park saw instead gave him a heart attack

"Mom! W-what're you doing here..?" He asks, shocked to see his mother sitting on his still unmade bed. Her arms crossed, eyebrows arched and lips pursed together "better question, where were you? It's way past 12" She wasn't shouting, something she would usually do when she was mad. Instead, her voice was calm, almost eerily calm, the underlaying softness that was always there when she spoke nowhere to be seen.

They may or may not've gone back to Hoseoks house to watch a movie or two and drink a little "A-at hobi hyungs.." He told, voice quiet as he stared at the floor, squirming as if he was trying to make himself smaller in his mother's gaze. "Bullshit, pass me your phone" She demanded, opening her palm expectantly.

Park's eyes widen as he recalls what his older friend had named the stranger. Nonetheless, he hesitantly pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his skinny jeans and places it in his mother's hand.

She turned on his phone, Jimin saw the artificial light reflect in her glasses as she opened his contacts and scrolled down.

Park saw her eyes burn with anger, but he swears he saw a tinge of betrayal along with it. She stood. "Park Jimin, who is this?" His mother questioned, showing him the newest contact, with the ridiculous name "Just s-someone we met at the m-mall--"

"Mall? I thought you went to Hoseoks house?"

"I did bu--"

"I don't like being lied to, Jimin, I'm taking your phone for a week"

And with that, she stormed out the room, shutting the door hard behind her. Jimin let his legs give out as he collapsed onto his bed.

His eyes began to water, he had disappointed his mother.

Jimin had tried so hard not too, but it was all for nothing. A strangled sob sat behind his lips as he bit down on them.

Kicking off his shoes, Park lay down, on top of his covers.

He felt like a failure.