Chapter Text
Life is beautifully ordinary. Or at least, Seokjin thought so. For the most part, one knows what they’d be doing in an hour or even ten minutes. Humans are so used to causality and routine that it’s almost predictable how the average day goes.
Well, mostly.
For sometimes there’d be a break in routine, a little flip.
One second, everything is familiar—your routine, your steps, the world around you—and in the next, something shifts. A chance encounter, an unexpected opportunity, or even a single word can send your life spiralling in a completely new direction.
And that’s what makes life, isn’t it? The way everything can turn on its head in an instant. Sometimes, the universe conspires in its quiet, mysterious ways, aligning stars and circumstances just so—bringing you to that one fleeting, extraordinary moment that changes everything, forever.
If Seokjin were a romantic, that’s how he’d explain his chance encounter with Taehyung: a cosmic moment, a whimsical twist of fate. But Seokjin wasn’t much of a romantic. He preferred things neat and predictable. And yet, here he was, a few weeks after that fateful fake date when he somehow got roped into helping Taehyung score the couple’s discount at his own establishment. Somehow, over the past weeks, Taehyung had made himself an oddly permanent fixture in Seokjin’s life.
It wasn’t immediate, of course. After all, how close could you get to someone you only pretended to date for a couple of hours to save a few bucks? But Taehyung—tall and lanky, beautiful in an almost ethereal way, with a small face that perfectly framed his boxy smile, bangs falling playfully over his forehead, big hands, and long, slim fingers—had a way of expressing himself that was almost theatrical. He was sunshine wrapped in human form, an endless source of energy and enthusiasm, and Seokjin wasn’t used to people like that.
At first, it was the memes. Seokjin had asked for Taehyung’s number when they finished their dinner that fateful night, and Taehyung had gladly given it. Seokjin, not really sure how to text, had sent a simple, “Seokjin here.” That was it. But from that moment on, Taehyung took over, flooding his phone with the weirdest collection of memes—each one more random and unexpected than the last.
Like, really weird.
For instance one day, Seokjin’s phone pinged with an image of a duck in sunglasses. The caption? “Me thinking I’m cool when I clearly don’t fit in 🦆👓 ” Seokjin had stared at it for a good minute, trying to process why Taehyung thought it was relevant to send this. He didn’t respond. But the next day, Taehyung sent another one—a picture of a cat dramatically staring out a window with the text, “Waiting for my fake boyfriend to text back 🙁” Seokjin couldn’t help but frown; he wasn’t sure if adults actually used emoticons like that, but maybe he just found Taehyung endearing in a silly sort of way.
Seokjin had sighed. “You know that fake boyfriend is me, right?” he texted back.
“Oh, I know,” Taehyung replied almost instantly, “Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention 😘” Seokjin found himself staring at the screen, feeling an embarrassing flip in his heart at the sight of the kissing emoji. It was definitely not something he’d be discussing with Yoongi anytime soon—no way he was going to explain this strange, freaky sensation that came from a silly text conversation.
And so, it began. What started as random meme drops and one-sided conversations somehow turned into something resembling a friendship. If you could call it that. Seokjin, who prided himself on keeping his circle small and his life drama-free, now found himself regularly engaged in conversations with Taehyung—often against his better judgment.
They weren’t deep, life-altering conversations, no. More like, “Hey, did you know penguins propose to each other with pebbles? Maybe you should try it next time 😏” or “What’s your opinion on pineapple on pizza? Choose wisely, Seokjin. This is friendship-altering stuff.”
It was disarming, the way Taehyung navigated life like it was a constant adventure, effortlessly pulling Seokjin into his strange little world. Their first meeting had been anything but ordinary. Taehyung had voiced his displeasure over the renovation of the pub into Seokjin's restaurant, lamenting how chain establishments stripped away the character of original locales. He had a carefree attitude, wearing oversized and flowy clothing that made him look even more vibrant, often adorned with delicate jewellery. With an animated sigh, he had offered to take Seokjin around the neighbourhood, promising to introduce him to the hidden gems that truly embodied the local charm.
And he did just that. Regularly.
A week or so later, out of the blue, Taehyung would text Seokjin with a casual suggestion for lunch or dinner—sometimes on a Tuesday, other times a Friday night, or sometimes a Saturday Special, was that thing? Seokjin, the absolute goner he was, would show up without a second thought. There was something wonderfully foolish about it—no real invitation, no mention of it being a date, yet here he was, willingly swept into Taehyung’s whirlwind of spontaneity.
Taehyung would arrive with all the flair of a Broadway star, waving dramatically and insisting they sit at “their table,” much to Seokjin’s mock horror. He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Each visit brought fresh experiences as Taehyung rattled off tales of the establishments they were exploring while Seokjin struggled to maintain an air of indifference, which was becoming increasingly difficult.
The outings were delightful chaos, filled with quirky banter and spontaneous laughter. Taehyung’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Seokjin found himself increasingly drawn into the warmth of his company.
Their conversations shifted from lighthearted memes to playful debates over the best dishes, and Seokjin started looking forward to these unexpected meet-ups more than he’d like to admit.
It was absurd, really. Between the barrage of memes, useless trivia, and late-night debates over which potato chip flavour was superior, Taehyung had somehow managed to carve out a small, comfortable space for himself in Seokjin’s life. As the laughter and spontaneous outings continued, Seokjin couldn’t help but chuckle at how this whirlwind of chaos had crept into his perfectly ordinary existence. It was ridiculous, but maybe—just maybe—he didn’t mind it one bit.
Once, they’d been eating lunch together when Taehyung suddenly blurted out, “Hey, what would you do if you were a duck for a day?” Seokjin had blinked at him, completely thrown off.
“I—what?”
“Just imagine it. You’re a duck. What’s your plan?”
“Probably... stay near water? I don’t know, Taehyung, why are you like this?”
“Good plan, solid plan,” Taehyung had nodded sagely as if that was the most profound answer.
Seokjin didn’t understand it. He wasn’t used to people just being like this—constantly joyful, unapologetically themselves. Taehyung had a way of making the ordinary feel… less ordinary. And while Seokjin wouldn’t admit it out loud, he didn’t hate it. Part of him had started looking forward to those encounters, the unexpected messages that brightened his day just a little bit.
Maybe, just maybe, what they were building could be called a friendship. Or something like that. Seokjin wasn’t ready to define it yet, but one thing was for sure—his life, which once seemed so beautifully ordinary, wasn’t quite as predictable anymore.
***
But as their friendship blossomed, Seokjin found himself increasingly aware that he was hiding something important. Taehyung’s passion for the area’s history was infectious; he spoke of the vibrant community in their neighbourhood that once thrived before the rapid development took hold. This realization started to gnaw at Seokjin, intertwining with his own feelings of conflict about his restaurant. He understood the need for progress but also recognized the consequences of erasing community spaces in the heart of Seoul. Taehyung was right to be concerned. Seokjin had tried his best to protect the jobs of the staff from the old pub he had acquired, but he had no control over the broader issues affecting the locality. That was a problem for another day, he reminded himself.
One Tuesday, Seokjin and Taehyung found themselves at a little café tucked away from the main street—an old bookshop transformed into a cosy coffee haven that Taehyung had insisted they visit. The space was charmingly quirky, with mismatched furniture, shelves overflowing with old books, most in Korean, and local artwork adorning the walls. High school students huddled in corners, sipping coffee and poring over their books, most likely taking a well-deserved break before heading off to night school, the air filled with a comforting buzz of chatter and clinking mugs.
Taehyung animatedly described the owner’s story, how he had rescued the forgotten garage and turned it into a vibrant community hub. “See, this is what I’m talking about! This place has soul!” he exclaimed, a contagious smile lighting up his face. With his long, slim fingers, he gestured excitedly, every movement embodying his enthusiasm. The enthusiasm in his voice and the way his eyes sparkled made him all the more captivating.
“Yeah, it really does,” Seokjin replied, almost enthralled, delicately sipping his coffee to avoid burning his tongue. As he did, the hot liquid momentarily fogged up his glasses, obscuring his view. He chuckled softly, pushing his glasses up his nose as he cleared his vision. “It’s amazing how much passion can transform a space.” The warmth of the coffee seeped into his hands, grounding him as he took in the cosy café, feeling the atmosphere shift around them, vibrant and alive with the stories of its patrons.
“Exactly! And that’s what bothers me about the chains. They don’t care about the stories; they just care about profit,” Taehyung lamented, his eyes widening with fervor. “They’re pushing out local businesses, and soon, there won’t be anything left that represents the community.”
Seokjin nodded, feeling the weight of Taehyung’s words pressing down on him. His fingers fidgeted with the handle of his coffee cup, the warmth contrasting with the tightening knot in his stomach. He glanced away for a moment, tracing the edge of the table with his fingertips as he thought about how he had tried to be fair to his staff. Yet, the gnawing feeling that he was contributing to the problem lingered in the back of his mind. A sigh slipped from his lips, and he forced a smile, shaking his head slightly as if to clear away his doubts. “What’s next on your agenda?” he asked, redirecting the conversation with a casual ease that masked his internal struggle.
“Well, I’m organizing a community circle at the local park with my agency at the end of the month,” Taehyung said, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. “We want to bring people together for some activities and discussions about how we can reclaim our public spaces. But it’s been tough to get people involved. With all the changes happening in the area, many don’t feel comfortable participating anymore. It’s not just residential; there are new developments going up everywhere, and it’s pushing out the spirit of what the community used to be.”
Seokjin listened intently, avoiding eye contact as he focused on a loose thread hanging from his jeans, his right knee casually draped over his left. He absently tugged at the thread, a nervous habit he developed whenever he felt the weight of uncertainty. He could see the passion in Taehyung’s eyes, mixed with a sense of frustration, and it resonated with him. “That’s understandable. Change can be daunting, especially when it feels like the essence of a place is being lost,” he replied, his voice softer than usual.
“Exactly,” Taehyung continued, leaning forward slightly, his enthusiasm palpable. “I’m trying to find ways to make the park feel inviting again, to remind people of what it used to be like—where families gathered, where kids played. It’s a challenge, but I believe we can create a space that feels like home for everyone.”
Seokjin nodded, the weight of Taehyung’s words grounding him in the moment. “Sounds like a worthwhile initiative,” he said, genuinely impressed, his fingers finally releasing the thread as he shifted his focus back to Taehyung.
Taehyung’s face lit up at that. “You should come! I’ll be sorting things out this week to prepare for it, and I’d love to add you to the group. It’ll be great to have your support, and who knows? Maybe we can bounce some ideas off each other.”
“Count me in!” Seokjin replied, unable to hide his enthusiasm. He felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of getting involved if only to spend more time with Taehyung.
As they chatted, Seokjin felt a wave of relief wash over him. The stresses of running a business seemed to disappear in this little cafe, surrounded by the scent of coffee and the warmth of a budding friendship. He stole a glance at Taehyung, who was animatedly discussing ideas for the event, and for a moment, he allowed himself to be swept up in the hope of what they could create together.
***
As their outings continued, Seokjin found himself enjoying Taehyung’s company more than he expected. They frequented various pubs, cafes, and eateries, discovering hidden gems tucked away in alleyways. They relished spontaneous ice cream runs on warm evenings and enjoyed the comfort of their repeated coffee runs on many afternoons. The simple act of sharing a bowl of spicy tteokbokki or a plate of crispy kimbap became vibrant adventures, each meal transforming his once-ordinary days into something colourful and unexpected.
Yet, despite their growing friendship, Seokjin remained cautious about sharing too much of his personal life. He enjoyed the lighthearted banter and carefree moments with Taehyung, unburdened by the weight of their initial deception. His friends—particularly Yoongi and Namjoon—were unaware of this new development in his life, which was unusual for someone like him who loved sharing pretty much everything with them.
The restaurant had never come up in conversation with Taehyung; when asked about his job, he had deftly evaded the question by saying he was a business graduate working but offered little details, and Taehyung had not pressed. Similarly, he had never explained the fake date to his restaurant staff, keeping that chapter of his life separate.
While he continued to manage the bustling restaurant, he felt as though he was living a double life—innocent, but marked by an underlying secrecy. Seokjin was grateful for his casual work attire; his favourite combination of jeans and a button-down shirt, often paired with a simple bracelet, was perfect for his impromptu meet-ups with Taehyung.
One particularly warm evening, they settled on a park bench after picking up street food from a nearby vendor. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. As Taehyung discussed his favourite movie soundtracks, his hands danced through the air, the thin platinum bands adorning his fingers shimmered in the fading light as he emphasized his points. Seokjin couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly Taehyung brought joy into every moment, his laughter infectious as it mingled with the evening breeze, a delightful contrast to the gentle clinking of the rings against one another.
“What about you, Seokjin? What’s your guilty pleasure?” Taehyung asked, finally turning the conversation to him.
Seokjin hesitated, caught off guard by the question. He fiddled with the loose threads from the ripped knees of his jeans, absentmindedly picking at the frayed edges as he shifted in his seat. “I guess I enjoy cooking. It’s… calming,” he admitted a hint of irony in his voice. It was a truth tinged with humour, considering his love for cooking had led him to acquire pubs and turn them into bustling spots. Funny how fate had brought him to Taehyung.
“Cooking! That’s awesome! Maybe you could whip something up for me one day,” Taehyung teased.
“Sure, but you might regret it. My speciality is trying to make instant ramen gourmet,” Seokjin replied with a grin, and they both burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the distant chatter of families enjoying the park.
As the days turned into weeks, Seokjin found himself caught in an unexpected rhythm with Taehyung. It was a dance of laughter, shared memes, and spontaneous adventures. On some evenings, after their meals, he would walk Taehyung back to his apartment, the warm glow of streetlights illuminating their path. Their shadows stretched long on the pavement, Seokjin’s broad shoulders complementing Taehyung’s equally sturdy frame, creating a harmonious silhouette against the backdrop of the dimly lit streets. The gentle sway of their shadows mirrored the ease of their conversations, filled with tales of childhood mischief and dreams for the future, crafting a world that felt both vibrant and intimate.
Yet, every time Taehyung expressed his thoughts about the community, Seokjin felt a pang of guilt gnawing at him. One evening, as they strolled through a vibrant neighbourhood, Taehyung paused to admire a vendor selling handmade crafts. “This is what it’s all about, you know? Supporting local artists and keeping the community alive.”
Seokjin felt a tightness in his chest. “Yeah, it is important.” He couldn’t shake the uneasiness that washed over him, wondering if sharing too much about himself would complicate their friendship. Taehyung had a strong sense of justice, and Seokjin wasn't sure how his background would fit into that narrative.
“Seokjin, are you okay? You seem a bit… off,” Taehyung asked, concern flickering in his eyes as he tilted his head slightly, studying Seokjin's expression.
“Yeah, just… lost in thought,” Seokjin replied, forcing a smile that that he hoped to God looked believable. “I guess I’m just grateful for days like this.”
“Me too,” Taehyung said, and the sincerity in his voice made Seokjin’s heart flutter unexpectedly, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the evening air. The thought lingered in Seokjin’s mind—could he find a way to share his reality without risking the bond they were building?
As they continued their stroll, Seokjin decided to focus on the present instead of the weight of the past. Maybe one day he would find the right moment to share the truth with Taehyung. But for now, he was content to revel in the warmth of their budding friendship, even if it meant carrying the truth a little longer. It was little, anyway.
***
Back at the restaurant, Seokjin found himself thinking about Taehyung’s words more frequently. While he relished their outings, the reality of his role as a business owner loomed over him. He wanted to support local businesses and preserve the neighbourhood’s character, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was part of the very changes Taehyung lamented.
He reminded himself that he was doing what he believed was best. After all, he had taken steps to protect the old staff and create a welcoming space, but a sense of hollowness lingered in the back of his mind. Was he truly helping, or merely easing his own conscience?
Alone in the kitchen, Seokjin took a deep breath, letting the familiar scents of herbs and spices wash over him. The restaurant was closed for the night, and this was his time to experiment. He loved these quiet hours, where the soft hum of the equipment surrounded him, a comforting reminder of the life he had partly built. Dicing vegetables and stirring sauces, he crafted something unique, hoping it would resonate with his patrons.
As he worked, the rhythmic sounds of chopping and sizzling filled the space. The creative process distracted him from his swirling thoughts, yet as he mixed flavours and textures, the nagging feeling persisted. Would this new dish be enough to make a difference?
After tasting the dish, he noted the balance of flavours, but couldn’t shake the underlying unease. Sighing, he began cleaning up the kitchen, scrubbing down surfaces and washing utensils, ensuring everything was in order for the next day. Despite the satisfying rhythm of his work, a part of him remained restless, caught in a loop of doubt and aspiration.
“What are you doing, Seokjin?” he muttered under his breath, catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the polished metal. But, the answer eluded him, lost somewhere in the jumble of his thoughts. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that perhaps he had overlooked something significant in the pub’s history—something he’d never taken the time to explore. Was there a hidden story in the records that he had ignored?
Maybe he was just being paranoid. He felt the weight of his decisions pressing down on him as he scrubbed a stubborn stain from a pot, his mind wandering to the possibility that there was more to the space than he’d recognized—more than just business potential.
As he washed the dishes, he considered the times he’d seen Taehyung’s eyes light up while talking about the community. He could picture his friend pausing in front of a vendor selling handmade crafts, his voice filled with passion as he emphasized the importance of supporting local artists. The warmth of those memories made Seokjin’s heart ache. He yearned to embrace the unpredictability life had thrown his way, holding onto the joy Taehyung had brought into his life while grappling with his doubts.
“Maybe there’s hope,” he whispered to himself, the sound swallowed by the quiet of the kitchen. “Maybe I can find a way to balance my passion for business with Taehyung’s desire to preserve our community.”
He took a deep breath, the aroma of his culinary creations mingling with the air, and with it, a sense of possibility began to stir within him. As the last dish was washed and put away, he allowed himself to imagine a future where he could blend both worlds—where the restaurant could thrive while also honouring the spirit of the neighbourhood. Where perhaps Taehyung would be okay with knowing his identity. I mean, it was a small thing, right?
Right?