Let's Be Losers (Myungjong fanfic)

Chapter 1: Stained Life

Yay first chapter! That scary looking gif of myungsoo on the side will make sense when you read further in :) so enjoy!

Sungjong

"I'm really sorry about that sir! Uh, come again!" The middle aged man walked off giving me glares of death.

Well, I messed up that order.

Working in a small coffee shop in America was honestly the worse job by far. I'd rather be scooping up dollops of horse poop in a barn at a countryside.

"Sungjong, this is the fourth order you got wrong today." My manager Katy responded. She was practically watching my every move, brushing her wavy red hair back and forth. "What's wrong with you?"

"I..." I trailed. "I am sorry Katy. I'll get it right. Promise."

She approached me slowly and wiped my forehead lightly with a dish rag. Feeling the sympathy towards me. "It's alright. Now you get back to the register."

I nodded and flashed a small grin, quickly hopping into my bestowed spot. "Hello what can I get you today?" I practiced my daily saying constantly to myself until it was fluent to my lips.

A stressed mother and her toddling little girl stepped towards the counter. "Hello what can-"

"I'll have two cups of caramel fraps. Add two pumps of vanilla and lay off the whipped cream. Oh and give me two cups of creamers will you?"

I was astonished by her rushing attitude. "Ye...yes." Quickly I typed that up onto the register then, noticed her daughter waddling around in her own world.

"Hi cutie." I greeted in a soft tone towards her. My stomach laid flat against the counter while I waved.

She giggled. "Hi. What's your-"

Before she could finish the sentence, her mother tugged onto her hand causing the girl to silence completely.

She doesn't seem like a very good parent.

"Hurry it up you're gonna make me late." I heard her mutter under the buzz around the shop.

Myungsoo

"Remember, your projects are due next Friday. Have a good weekend."

I shut my book and slid the massive weight into my backpack. My hand ached from the hard, sweaty grip onto my pencil. The fingertips were blood red and knuckles white.

And this was just writing notes.

I zipped my backpack and whipped it around my arm. But the teacher took an abrupt stop from me, "Myungsoo. Correct?"

That pronunciation irked me so. Not myungsoooooo with dozens of o's. To be honest it wasn't as bad but I missed the voices back in Korea saying Myungsoo shortly.

I nodded, "Yes sir."

"Well, Myungsoo." He bellowed, "your writing abilities are perfection. Quite detailed and very descriptive. But,"

"Yes?"

He shrugged, "in every piece you add hangul. In which, not the judges, nor I can understand."

"Sir it shows my culture. My artistic passion in writing. Can't you just google translate the phrase?" I chuckled at my statement.

I mean, you could.

A blank stare dissolved in his expression. He handed me my paper, "Take this into consideration." With that, he grabbed his bag and exited the room.

Oh how I despised my professor. What do you know about Korean culture. It takes me years and years of hard schoolwork to get to this place and here you are telling me I shouldn't write the way I like!? Quite stupid if I say so myself.

Yet, I take it as a joke. Just small play. I continue my afternoon routine by stopping for coffee and finishing up my late errands. (milk. remember. milk) I was always the last student out because of little wrongs or errors that one of my professors have caught. (like that one earlier.) But I didn't mind. I liked walking the halls alone. I liked leaning down to open my locker where there were no rushing to push and shove. I liked the peace.

I headed for the exit near the library. Where I always go. I jog to my bike, the lonely one on the rack. Then ride off to who knows where...well coffee first.

Sungjong

"come on..." I muttered under my breath, clutching onto the edge of the counter a little too hard. My eyes were locked onto the wall clock. 4:30...come on 4:30! Time to relax, time to go home, time to escape this coffee bean stench!

"You've got 8 minutes Sungjong." A hand squezed my shoulder lightly. Katy passed with a tray in her hands and continued her walk around the shop. I sighed and let my elbows sink miserably from it's propped stance on top of the pastry cabinet. Well, I'm getting there.

Seconds later, another customer entered. Knowing this, there was the sound of the bell hanging above the door. Usually, I'd greet, 'welcome to East Way Coffee' but these 8 minutes were lagging my mood.

A figure approached the counter and I didn't give a care. Each customer were either in a rush, didn't like any interaction at all or just plain out didn't like me. What difference would this one make? "Um, this is my first time ordering something here so what drinks would you recommend?" It was a he. His voice was quite low. A bit squeaky now and then, but smoothly low. Without a word, I pointed above my right shoulder knowing the 'restaurant reccomandations' menu was posted in my direction. "Ah okay." The man replied. "I'll have a regular Caramel Mocha then."

I gave a short nod and typed that into the register. "That'll be 3.45." I mumbled. He slid 5 bucks across the surface. "Out of five. It'll be out in a few minutes." Handing him his change, he soon left and my eyes were once again watching the hands of the clock tick around and around.

In no time, the small bell rang signaling the order was ready. And knowing Katy would step by, pat my head lightly, and walk off to serve the cup. But this time, she placed the tray in front of me. "Helen had to go home. Why don't you take this one?"

I shook my head, "I'm not ready for that kind of stuff."

She chuckled lightly, "Really Sungjong?" She lifted an eyebrow. "Just go over there, put the cup down and walk away. No uman interaction whatsoever unless they give you a tip but that rarely happens."

Her odd comment somehow amused me and I stood straight. I stretched back to align every part to the way it was. Yes, bending hurts. "Fine. You owe me one though."

"Got it." Katy responded heading back into the kitchen.

Yeah, how hard could this be?

Let's see, order 172, Caramel Mocha. That would be...um him? I fast walked to the back of the shop where the vintage tables still sat. It was odd that this customer decided to sit there. His head was turned to the right, observing who knows what through the window. He wore a school uniform and his hair seemed a tad messy. Yet as I got closer, he seemed familiar.

Ah whatever, just hurry up so I could go home. I glanced at the clock repeatedly. Towards the sitting customer and back. Suddenly, my shoe caught against the rug and the tray flew out of my grasp. "Watch-" Before I could complete my warning, the hot cup splattered all over the cutomer's shirt. "...out." I finished.

"Agh!" He grunted springing from his seat. He pulled off his blazer causing the coffee stain to show more clearly. "What have you done!?"

"I uh..." Was all I managed to say as I stared at the gigantic brown stain. "Ooh that's gonna be really hard to get out."

Eventually, I looked him in the eyes. His dark, slim eyes burned in fury, "ib dagchyeo!"

I believe that phrase up there means shut up but if it doesn't please tell me. Sorry I don't speak Korean >.<

Anyway, how was that? Please give me feedback with votes and comments :) Thanks!