Teenage Antics (taegguk)

𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒐𝒚

[𝘼/𝙉: 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘪 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 (𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 + 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣) 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯]

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Jeongguk sits tiredly at his kitchen table, waiting quietly as he waits for his pot of coffee. It's around five in the morning, and Jeongguk groans internally at the thought of going to work.

'Beep! Beep! Beep!'

He saunters over to the countertop with his cup and pours himself a cup of black coffee.

He's already dressed, clad lazily in simple black sweats, a white tee, and a pair of dirtied boots on his tired feet.

He still craves a few more hours of sleep, but drags himself to his truck nonetheless.

Jeongguk slips his coffee into the cup holder and places the key in the ignition and starts the engine. He flips on the radio and finds his usual morning station, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the music as he drives down the road.

The morning fog has yet to fade and the trees and sky are shadowed in deep grey colors. The air is crisp, almost cold despite it being mid-summer, and almost always reaching triple digits by noon.

Jeongguk reaches the corner store about five minutes from his apartment and pulls into the parking lot. He checks his wallet and hops from the seat, his boots scraping the gravel as he hits the ground.

He wraps his fingers around the door handle and pulls it towards him before stepping into the well air-conditioned convenience store.

"Morning Jeongguk."

The older man behind the counter greets his most frequent customer. Jeongguk waves and makes his way to him, crouching down to look through the chocolate bars and candies lined up on shelves against the front of the counter before settling on a Butterfinger bar.

"Can I get a-" The store clerk puts his hand up before turning and pulling a box of Malboro black cigarettes from the shelf behind him. He begins ringing up Jeongguk's stuff and puts it in a brown paper bag.

Jeongguk presses a ten dollar bill into the countertop and waits to be given back his change. He pulls the paper bag into his grip and dumps the leftover money inside.

Waving off the clerk (who's name he can never seem to remember), he pushes open the door and heads back to his truck.

Cigarette between his lips, he holds a now brightly burning lighter to the end of the tobacco stick until it starts burning. He releases the purple lighter and tosses it into the passenger seat of his truck.

The smell of smoke floats out of his now cracked window as he motors off towards the little auto repair shop to begin a new day. One that would be accompanied by his thin, tan, anklet-wearing, (attractive,) blonde employee.