There had been a shocking small number of times within the span of his life where he had felt true happiness. Had felt the bright warmth of sun rays basking down upon him, a gift from gods he couldn't even see. A blessing bestowed upon him for some arbitrary task he hadn't even been aware he was completing. Once, he could count them all upon a single hand. Would barely even need all of the fingers and definitely would not have to make use of the thumb.
Yet suddenly there seemed to be an over abundance of these moments. Until his cheeks hurt from smiling and his chest ached from how his heart was always racing. But that was simply the near constant state of his life at the current moment. As if the channel had been turned, the page had been flipped and it had gone from being a drama to a light hearted romance novel, adapted into some cheesy made for television movie.
And maybe he should be suspicious, considering the way things had never gone quite this good or right or well for him in the past. Luck had never been a virtue that had been on his side. No, patience was the gift that he had been given, always left on the side lines to wait in silence and misery. Maybe that was just the path his life was meant to follow. Perhaps he had just been intended to walk it alone. But as he looked around, counted those that suddenly surrounded him, he realized that he would actually need all of those fingers after all.
...
There was still a hole in his dry wall.
It was a strange thought that had come to him during the night. That there was still a distinctly phone shaped hole in his dry wall, and he wondered if he should make an attempt to fix it himself, or pay someone who actually knew what they were doing. His current situation of simply covering it up with a series of tiny, decorative mirrors was working, but he was entirely aware that it would come back to haunt him sooner or later.
Probably when he attempted to move out and realized it was still there despite having totally forgot about it.
So there was a hole in his dry wall.
And he wondered, for a singular moment, what had made that thought actually pass through his mind. It wasn't like he had a lot of room for extra processing while at work. Not with dozens of drink orders and food request and table twelve wanted a side of ranch dressing and he couldn't understand why considering they had ordered the fried shrimp. So what had actually caused the thought to occur?
Or maybe it wasn't the actual hole that was on his mind, but the actions that had caused it. And maybe those actions had suddenly needed that leeway into his thoughts because there was a shock of blond hair currently standing out against the sea of black and he knew that sooner or later he was going to have to deal with it.
"So..." Hoseok had been the poor sap who had attempted to make conversation with the source of his impending doom, a mistake that he was entirely certain the other way currently regretting. A strange fact, considering Hoseok had never met a person he couldn't make smile. "The little ray of sunshine at table four would like a word with the - and I promise you this is a direct qoute and I am not embellishing at all - poor fuck who thinks that son of a bitch is in love with him but he doesn't know what love is because he has no heart and I just really need to warn him so could you please tell him to come over here on his break or something thanks."
"Do you think I should use the whole title to introduce myself from now on or is 'poor fuck' going to be goo enough?" There were so many things in life that he hadn't wanted to face. Hadn't wanted to deal with. And he was well aware of the options that were normally available in those types of situations. But unfortunately ignoring this one until it went away would likely take actual years and he just didn't have that kind of time.
"Personally I'd go with 'poor fuck who thinks that son of a bitch is love with him' but that's just me. Claim that man how ever you can, honey." There was a customer actually snapping their fingers at them, and they both sighed nearly in unison at the action. Sometimes it could be absolutely soul crushing, watching people act like they had a free ticket to treat them however they wanted, simply because they were being paid to provide a service. "I'll handle Mr. Think's he's more important than he is over there. You go take care of blondie."
"Thanks, Hobi." It was technically his section, but considering there was currently a twenty foot radius of icy wind blowing in on all directions from where Jimin currently sat that everyone seemed to terrified to enter, he figured his night was about to take a direct nose dive either way.
Maybe he should text Jungkook. Literally everyone had told him to allow the other man to handle it. But he had already tried that. Attempted it. Let Jungkook handle it until he was actually red in the face and his phone was laying in pieces upon his floor and there was still that pesky hole in his dry wall and he really was going to have to fix it. If for no other reason than it was always going to remind him of this entire mess.
He had once called what he had with Jungkook a situationship, even if it had been to no one but himself. And he realized that it was still the most apt word for whatever was currently between them. A situation that was never going to be entirely resolved.
The bar stools were relatively high, and he slipped onto it was practiced ease, sighing as the action took the pressure off his aching feet. It was Sunday, and despite being the slowest night of the weekend run, it still felt like a constant race towards a never approaching finish line.
There were marks on his neck. He recalled it almost too late. And he was certain the hand he lifted to rub across the bruised surface only drew the attention he hadn't wanted. There were two sets of thin, silvery scars, half moon indentations and two rows of imprinted teeth and he wished he had just followed Hoseok's advice and cut Jungkook off come Thursday.
But he hadn't. Because he had never once done what was good for him, despite knowing what it was. Almost as if his mind was capable of coming up with the best course of action, but was incapable of actually following it. A flaw in the code of his own DNA that would only ever lead to tragedy.
He wondered what the fates had in store for him today.
