SEOEUN KIM

My features scrunch in distaste at the uniform I'm expected to change into. It's short— too exposed.

But I needed the money.

Sighing, I dress into the uniform and join the other female servers at the front. All of their faces are caked with makeup, and I touch my near-bare one, wondering if I'd done something wrong.

"Serve drinks and orders." The manager says, and I can hear the crowds of people starting to pour in the entrance.

"Do whatever to please your customers, or there will be consequences. We're not paying you all this money for nothing."

Then he leaves, and I blink as the girls scatter.

I follow them to get a tray full of tall glasses of drinks, drinks that I'm supposed to give out to people.

It takes skills to keep it steady with so many people piling through the doors.

Within moments, the club's temperature skyrockets.

"Hey! Drinks here!" A man calls, and I purse my lips together. Girls practically draped over him, and he's still shamelessly looking at me.

Without a word, I give them the drinks and try to leave as fast as I can.

"Hey. Stop."

He suddenly calls, and I turn back around with a fake smile plastered on my lips. He's still looking, and it's pissing me off.

"Do you need anything?"

"Yes." He says smugly, and points to his lap. "Come and sit. Let me—"

"No thanks." I cut off sharply, then quickly turn around. Before he can get to me, I weave through the crowd far away.

This continues for a painful while, me refusing men like that and running off as fast my heels can take me to serve more drinks.

It's a dumb cycle.

It's almost the end of my shift when someone harshly grips my arm, pulling me back. My eyes widen when I see the man from earlier. The one who'd told us what to do.

He doesn't look happy.

"Follow me." He hisses, and I blink confusedly as I follow him into some empty room.

The moment the door's closed, he turns to face me.

And then a flash of pain streaks down my spine, and I stumble back in shock, my hands flying to my cheek.

He...

"What do you think you're doing?" He yells, knocking the tray from my hand. I gasp when the glasses shatter on the floor.

"I thought I told you to make them happy." He growls, shoving me hard into the wall. "I've been hearing complaints about a particular girl, declining every man. All night."

Disgust bubbles in my chest, overwhelming the shock.

So that's what I was really supposed to be doing? Not serving drinks, but to—

I can't even think about it.

"I won't fire you, because some of those idiots seem to like you— take you as a challenge."

"But let this happen again, and I'll make sure you won't be showing up here anymore."

________________________

"Noona!"

Jimin's face twists in fear, the sleep instantly gone when he sees me icing my face. There are small cuts all over my legs— the glass, and I hadn't noticed until I'd gotten back.

I don't know what to even think by now.

"Noona, what's this?" He pulls my fingers away from my face, going pale as snow when he sees the massive purple bruise.

He starts to tremble, breaths turning shorter.

"Jimin— Jimin, calm down." Pulling his shaking figure into my arms, I rub his chest and back. But he shakes away my grip, eyes panicked.

"Noona. T-tell me what happened."

"I—" My voice clamps for a second, and my eyes sting. "Jimin...."

I don't know what to do anymore, Jimin-ah.

"I hit myself on the door, dropped a glass cup." With a smile, I shake my head. "Don't worry about it— it looks worse than it is, I promise."

A sob suddenly escapes his lips, and I look up in surprise. His eyes are glassed with tears, features twisted with pain.

"Why— Why do I feel like you're lying to me, Noona? I—"

Then he winces, his hand flying to his chest. My eyes widen when his body sways, his lips open desperately for breath.

"Jimin!"

"Don't panic, don't panic." I repeat soothingly, when in reality I'm panicking more than him.

His inhaler in my hand, I just keep rubbing gentle circles as he breathes.

"Shh, it's okay." His hair falls away softly between my fingers, his pale face slowly finding color again. "I'm not dead, yeah? You cute little mochi."

"D-Don't call me that." He mumbles, still looking depressed as I laugh and squeeze his cheeks.

"You're okay now, right?"

He looks away. "We shouldn't be talking about me. Why can't we talk about you, Noona?"

"Because you're more important, love." I whisper back, and before he can protest again, I squeeze my arms around him and tackle him to the ground.

"Do you want to make chocolate cake? I know it's your favorite."

_______________________

Three hours later, I'm laughing my head off with flour and cocoa powder smeared in my hair and my clothes, smelling like vanilla.

"Noona— it was teaspoons! Holy crap.... didn't we read that as tablespoons earlier?"

"Well screw it." I say nonchalantly, humming as I blend the entire batter together.

"Can we just do that?" He asks curiously, coughing at the burst of powdered sugar. "What if it's bad?"

Clapping his back, I give him a large smile.

"Just go with the flow."

Jimin raises an eyebrow, plopping down crosslegged in front of the oven with a cup of milk tea in his hands. I'm working on my online class work when he pipes up.

"Noona? It's not rising."

"Just give it a minute, baby." I reply back, my eyes focused on the laptop screen. "It'll get somewhere eventually."

Five minutes later.

"Oh! It's rising!"

I smile.

Then he coughs, blowing out a breath. I look up in alarm, then glancing back down when I see him breathing into his inhaler.

"Can we take it out now?"

"Wait for the timer." I advise, abandoning my work at this point. I couldn't concentrate— so I just decide to watch him.

When the oven dings, he instantly pulls the cover open with his eyes bubbling with excitement. I jump to my feet, getting to him just in time to pull him away.

He protests.

"Mitts— Jimin, you need to put on mitts. It's super hot right now."

"Oh, that's what it is." He mumbles thoughtfully, giving me a light smile. "I knew I was forgetting something."

I laugh in disbelief.

______________________

PARK JIMIN

"Good night."

I'm still pretending I'm asleep. But the moment the door swings open and shut, my eyes snap open.

Swinging my legs from the bed, I rush out the door after her.

She'd come home with bruises and cuts.

And then she'd lied to me.

Taking a deep breath, my eyes widen when I watch her figure in the dark. She's going into that newly opened place— a.... a club? Someplace called a club.

Blinking hard, I slip into the doors after her.

Immediately I groan at the loud noises. The air's hot and suffocating, and there's people everywhere— dancing, laughing, drinking.

It smells terrible in here.

What was Noona doing in someplace like this?

Then a hand suddenly grabs my wrist, and I swallow back a startled gasp as I come face to face with a person I don't know.

She's looking me up and down, clearly drunk.

"Sorry." I mumble quickly under my breath, looking down at the floor. I try to get past, eyes still fixed on the ground. "I need to—"

"Ah, ah, ah." She says, smiling. Smiling is supposed to be good, but I don't like hers. "You're coming with me, baby."

"I need to find someone." Forming up my voice, I shake her grip away. "I can't go with you, I'm sorry."

She clicks her tongue, leaning against the wall.

"You should've come when I asked you nicely, sweetheart."

_________________________

SEOEUN

I just close my eyes and pretend that this isn't happening to me right now, that I'm back home laughing with Jimin instead.

I'm so pathetic.

Then in my wandering mind, I catch an excited whisper in the crowd. It's a feminine one, high-pitched among the noise.

"Oh my gosh! Did you just see that cute-looking boy come in? Wearing an oversized sweater with a little chick on it— it's like he has no idea what this place even is!"

My entire breath stops.

Before I even wrap my head around myself, I've pushed the stranger away. Then I'm running to the source of the voice, because there's only one person that description reminds me of.

Park Jimin.

"Hi— excuse me." I say quickly, breathless. "That boy you were talking about— did you see where he went by any chance?"

She points at the second floor, and my lips go dry.

The second floor, holy freaking crap.

Kicking off my high heels, I shove and fight to get through. When I'm running up the stairs, it definitely helps having those damn heels off.

I look around rapidly.

No sign of him. My mouth begins to feel dry— just the thought of pure, innocent Jimin in one of these rooms made me sick to my stomach.

So I just start flinging the doors open.