Chapter Text
December arrives with a flurry of snow and a whiff of gingerbread.
It’s pretty, Yeon-oh admits, it hasn’t snowed on the first day of winter in years. It reminds him of his childhood, back when there wasn’t so much to worry about, when he and his brother Yeonjun, a tiny baby back then, would marvel at the dancing snowflakes and giggle over them, back when he thought his family was happy. So, in his and Jaemin’s small but cozy kitchen, he takes a few moments of respite to gaze out the window. And he would let himself enjoy it much more and bask in the sweet nostalgia if there wasn’t so much to do and if the bitter taste of disappointment didn’t still linger in his heart.
“What are you thinking about so hard? And please don’t scorch those croissants…” Jaemin pleads, wrestling a giant tray.
Yeon-oh moves at lightning speed, putting on the Christmas-themed gloves that Yeonjun gifted him last year and taking a tray of his own out of the oven with practiced ease. The desserts look just perfect, as they always do, and he places them gently on the big wooden table. He’s had this catering company for more than 3 years now and he cherishes it so much that Jaemin always refers to it as his baby. Yeon-oh has never corrected him. Your baby has just graduated from being a toddler, he’d quipped just a few days before. But being a parent is also hard. It had been exciting at first, despite the anxiety of being new in the business and looking for clients, then it was smooth sailing for a while, especially after Jaemin joined him. But lately the excitement has started dimming in the shadow of all the worries.
“I don’t like being the bearer of bad news but I just ran into Miss Yoon on my way here and… well, we lost the contract with the school.”
“Please don’t tell me it was to the Lee Brothers.”
“Then I won’t say a word.”
They don’t need to say more to understand what the other is thinking. Yeon-oh knows how competition works and, at first, although it stung just a little, it hadn’t bothered him. It was only after some of their oldest and most loyal clients had made the switch that it had started to genuinely hurt and keep him awake at night. The winter holidays were supposed to be the busiest time of the year and yet they barely had any bookings.
“It’ll be fine, we’ll get more clients after the Christmas market, I’ll throw in a few free samples here and there. And there are some who won’t give up on our special food just because the Lee Brothers are more popular. Now cheer up and go deliver these beauties.”
With a pat on the back from his best friend, Yeon-oh puts on a quite convincing half-smile. Then he takes off the flour-dusted apron and grabs his coat.
Less than a minute after, the bell above the door jingles again.
“Did you forget something?” Jaemin asks from the kitchen.
“Not that I’m aware of, no.”
At the unfamiliar voice, Jaemin emerges to the front desk, embarrassed and apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Sir, I thought it was someone else. How can I help you?”
A sense of familiarity stirs in Jaemin as he meets the eyes of the imposing man standing in front of him but he can’t quite grasp it. Instead, he brushes it off, convincing himself that the man only looks like an actor he’s seen in a drama recently, with his dark, slicked back hair, piercing eyes and elegant suit.
“I was looking for… Mr. Seo Yeon-oh?” the man asks while looking around with curiosity.
“I’m afraid you just missed him but I can pass on a message for him if you’d like. Or I can try to help you?”
The man seems to ponder for a bit. “Do you know about the Kwon Foundation gala?”
Jaemin can only nod. The possibility of this conversation leading where he thinks it will lead leaves him gaping.
“Well,” the man continues, “this year I’m hoping to… change things up a little, and that includes food. If you are interested, I expect you both for an interview tomorrow at 10 a.m. Here is the address,” he says, taking out a business card and handing it to Jaemin, who receives it with slightly shaking fingers.
“Sure, thank you,” Jaemin replies wistfully.
He keeps standing in the middle of the room long after the man leaves. This is the exact opportunity they have been waiting for. This is the job that can make their career.