passenger side
pussyboijk:
(..)
“how do you feel about a little detour before we check in?” jeongguk suggests, moving the camera to snap another photo with a different beautiful view, one of jimin in the driver’s seat with the windows down and the sunlight pouring in to fill the car. “it’s been too long and i’m starving.”
Jimin didn’t hesitate to pull the car over, having been all the way over to the left lane, he got a few angry honking from a few drivers, but he didn’t care. Pulling into the parking lot was so nostalgic. He looked to his left, down the little sidewalk he and Jungkook used to take to get there. He could see both their younger selves, playing around before they had to come in and help eomma for the day, taking the back door, and playing around even more once inside. He blinked and realized he was still in the middle of the parking lot. The sign looked more or less the exact same, just changed the name, and looking into the windows, it still looked like a cafe of sorts, but it seems whoever owns it now renovated it a bit to look more modern than before.
Unbuckling his seatbelt, Jimin turned to Jungkook, a little dazed, feeling as if he was about to walk straight down memory lane if seeing a sidewalk and seeing himself was indication enough, “I guess we’re eating here,” he chuckled, grabbing his phone and wallet and shoving it into his back pocket as he exited the car, “they um-- they look like they have coffee, maybe?” Jimin tried to assure but he couldn’t promise, obviously, he didn’t know anything about the place ( anymore ).
Once inside, Jimin was stunned to see nothing major had changed really. Just new looking equipment behind the counter, updated chairs and new wall paint, but other than those, it still looked like his mother’s cafe. There was a lingering, spicy smell of cinnamon, coupled with the saccharine notes of icing, and it overpowered everything else, which made Jimin feel like he could walk straight back into the kitchen and see his mother delicately, yet effortlessly drizzling frosting onto cinnamon buns she had made from scratch. It was a signature breakfast dish that people often came across town just to buy from her.
It took a louder greeting from the guy at the counter, looking around Jeongguk’s age to say hello again for Jimin to snap out of his own head, hearing, “--sit anywhere you like--” he said, more or a less a bit annoyed but Jimin couldn’t help but feel like he stepped right into a time capsule or something. His eyes scanned the cozy cafe, and low and behold, the one little booth sat in the back right hand corner. It was the only booth in the whole establishment which made it a bit weird, but it’s always where he and Jeongguk ducked off when they were too young to work, or too swamped with homework to. It’s nostalgic, and Jimin found himself tugging the younger’s shirt for him to look that way, with the softest smile as he felt so happy to get the chance to sit there again.
But before they could go back, they stood up to the counter with the same boy who greeted them upon entering. He looked like it was his part-time job, maybe he was a senior, or perhaps a freshman in college, but more than likely he had a lot more important things to do than be here taking orders right now, but money calls.
Jimin only looked over the menu for a second before deciding on an omelette, one of the cinnamon buns and a small iced coffee, and after he was done he waited on Jeongguk to order his food, too, when a loud crash caught Jimin’s attention coming from the kitchen. He looked through the windows leading into it, and sure enough, there was a whole vat of some white, thick liquid being spilt all over the floor.
Jimin thought the display looked so familiar.
“Shit!” Jimin cursed, instantly looking through the kitchen window, praying his mother didn’t hear it from the front, and when she didn’t he heaved the biggest sigh, and watched all the icing spread and take the space of the kitchen. It was going to be an absolute pain to clean up, not to mention how angry eomma would be because that was all the icing for the day. The cinnamon buns sell out so quick, and that much icing takes a while to make from scratch. He’s surprised eomma didn’t hear the loud crash from where she stood helping customers.
When Jeongguk came back in from taking trash out, Jimin looked at his younger friend with the most desperate of eyes, whose eyes looked a lot more in shock with how round his already huge eyes became.
“--help--” Jimin pleaded, with a worried bottom lip, already dipping on his knees, getting icing all over his apron. He was going to get the whooping of his lifetime, there was no way he could fix this one before his eomma could find out. To his complete dismay, the shrill voice of his mother came, echoing off the walls, “what in the world happened back here?!”
Jimin had only been snapped back into reality from the small smile on his face by the sound of his coffee being placed in front of him and the register slamming shut. He looked to Jeongguk with an apologetic gaze, taking the coffee up and muttering, “sorry,” as they found the booth again before heading toward it to wait on their food, which Jimin thinks will be a minute with the spill in the back. He had a hop to his step maneuvering to the back until they were sliding into the secluded space.
Looking around like the walls were some kind of wonderland, Jimin could hardly stay focused, “--it’s kind of overwhelming, isn’t it? It kind of feels like nothing changed. It feels so weird, Guk,” Jimin said, finally letting his eyes focus on the other as he slurped up his coffee, “don’t you feel like you walked straight into a recording or something. Nothing’s really changed. I can see everything we did here. It’s so strange. What’s the first thing you remember, walking in here?”


















