Accidental Friends | A BTSxReader friendship fic

Chapter 11: Eye-bags pt. 2

(Copyright Disclaimer: the image above does not belong to me)

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After Hunnie and I got back from the little trip to the wig and beauty-tools shops last night, a wave of exhaustion overwhelmed me, the type of exhaustion that you can feel when you breathe in deep. I felt it in my lungs, and my eyes were shutting themselves down. It wasn't that long of a walk or that heavy of a bag to lift, but when I arrived, all I wanted to do was fall into bed and disappear. Just when that was about to happen, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I don't quite recall how the conversation went, but it was something like this:

"Hello?"

"I really don't want to do this and water your seed, but, are you free tomorrow morning?" Manager Unnie said. The fog of sleepiness was lifted off me for a bit.

"Yes, I am. So I take it you're asking me if I want to do a morning shift tomorrow?" I tried to sound as awake as I could, but my voice wavered and I think she noticed it.

She sighed over the phone. "Yeah. Baram-ie called just now. She can't make it tomorrow. She doesn't feel well."

"I'll take the job."

"Congratulation. Your wish came true, you made someone ill," she laughed loudly through the phone. I never heard her laugh this hard before.

"Unnie, don't say that," I tried to say it seriously but in my slightly dazed condition. I ended up breaking character and laughing with her. "I'll call Baram Unnie to apologize later."

"Promise me something if you're taking this shift."

"Yes?"

"Please don't end up a workaholic or I'll die of responsibility and then I'll torment you and follow you everywhere you go as a ghost."

"Yeah, okay, that doesn't sound great."

The moment the call ended, I placed my phone on the floor next to my bed and fell asleep.

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It's Wednesday morning, or more precisely 9:03 on a Wednesday morning. I'm standing behind the counter in the café, somewhere I thought I wouldn't be today on 9:03 in the morning on a Wednesday. A sigh escapes my lips. What I'm doing now is not great. Escapism. I know I shouldn't be running away like this, and I definitely shouldn't feel relieved that Baram Unnie is sick, but I couldn't help it. I don't think I'm ready to think about it right now, to deal with it. And I know that I should deal with it the moment I'm ready. But the problem is, when will that be?

There is not a single soul in the café aside from a woman in her mid-twenties, her daughter, and I. The little girl cries in one of the sofa-benches against the wall, she has whipped cream smeared all over her mouth and cheeks. Her mom looks at her and pats her on the head. 'It's okay,' she says. 'I'm not angry that you dropped the strawberry,' I hear her gentle words. The little girl stops bawling but silent drops of tears still escape her eyes.

I close my eyes to try and absorb the warmth that is in the air. This is why I work here. There are a lot of strange, nonsensical people out there, but these sort of moments are why I end up still liking people, why I can never grow to hate them. If only I can spend my whole life like this, it would be enough. I'll be content.

At least that's what I think. I doubt that that's what my parents think. Or at least society.

The door opens with the typical ringing of the bells. Another welcomed distraction. I inhale as deeply as I could and straighten my posture.