Chapter Text
“Hani-ssi, it’s so slow, today…”
Han’s stomach dropped as he lost his grip on the shaker, the drink slipping right out of his hands and straight into the sink. Thankfully, the cap had stayed on (Han always made sure to tighten it while working with Woongki — he’d dare call him a bad luck charm, as, for some reason, he made Han 90% clumsier than he actually was.) He sighed, picked it up, and continued to make the customer’s order.
“If it’s so slow, why don’t you make some drinks?”
Woongki giggled. “‘Cause you make them the best.”
Han exhaled through his nose, turning his attention to the order screen. Just one drink was on the monitor, and it didn’t seem like there were going to be any more, for a while.
The boba shop they worked for, Matcha9, had been steadily declining in popularity since opening four months ago. A shame, since he actually quite enjoyed working here compared to his past barista jobs… it also didn’t hurt that the recipes were actually good.
Han topped off the drink with some whipped cream, then handed it to Woongki who delightfully called out the customer’s name with a smile. They laughed, calling Woongki cute as they walked away.
Han grimaced. Not a day passed where someone didn’t call Woongki cute. Or pretty. Or handsome. Or —
“Look, they posted your video!”
Han shook himself out of his thoughts, eyes landing on Woongki’s phone (of course he was using it.) He had it open to their shop’s Instagram. Then, he tapped on their latest post: a video starring Han making drinks to promote the store.
“Ooh,” Woongki said, “so pretty.”
“The strawberry milk tea?” Han said.
Woongki shook his head. “Nope. There, in the back…”
Han followed Woongki’s finger as he pointed, and… he was pointing to himself, smiling and posing for the camera behind an oblivious Han.
Han laughed. It seemed he didn’t mind much when Woongki called himself pretty.
The next few hours of their shift went by quietly; they had five or six more customers, all of which were faced with Woongki’s boundless joy and satiated with Han’s meticulously crafted drinks. The two baristas occasionally chatted, but, from what Han had observed since meeting Woongki, there had always been some kind of… barrier.
Han hummed as he wiped a counter. He guessed not everyone was meant to make it past that coworker stage, no matter how much of a blaring ‘E’ they were.
Woongki was probably busy with his life outside of work, too. Unlike Han who worked full-time, Woongki tended to switch up his schedule on a whim for reasons Han hadn’t asked him for.
If their managers, Shuaibo and Steven, weren’t so diligent about covering for any empty spots themselves, he’d definitely be losing his mind over it.
Stars dotted the darkening sky as the two began to close up shop — Han taking care of the registers and inventory while Woongki swept and mopped (and never failed to complain about it.)
“Hani-ssi,” he said, “I wasn’t born for manual labor…”
Han’s eyes glanced up from the bills in his hand, watching Woongki exaggeratedly fight with the mop. Han held back a laugh. “What were you born for, then?”
Woongki groaned, standing up straight and taking a break. “Anything but this… hey, can’t we switch?”
“You don’t know how to do registers, Woongki-ssi.”
“You can teach me…”
“Ask Steven-nim, then.”
At that, Woongki made a noise. “Scary…”
“No.”
“Yes!”
Han laughed. “Well, at least he hasn’t fired you for being late to all your shifts. Yet.”
“I bet it’s ‘cause he’s Australian… our manager-nim is so youthful and kind…” At that, Woongki picked the mop back up, singing quietly to himself. “Steven-nim, I love you…”
Han lifted his head, watching Woongki dance with the mop after his sorrowful confession.
Whatever went on in Woongki’s mind… Han would like to stay out of it. No matter how intriguing.
He finally finished counting through the registers, walking towards the employees-only door to finish the rest of his duties. Before leaving, however, he took one last glance at Woongki.
Han had to admit, he somewhat believed in Woongki’s ramblings. There was something about him that… drew people in.
He’d felt it, himself.
Han shook his head.
But so has everyone else.
Han left Woongki behind, his singing muffled through the door.
The next morning, Han arrived at Matcha9 for his shift. So did Woongki.
And so did an entire crowd of people, phones held high, squealing and squeezing past each other to get to…
Woongki?
Immediately, Han ran by Woongki’s side, the sleeves of his flannel flying as he raised his arms to act as a shield.
“What’s going on!?” Han said.
Woongki only shook his head, eyes wide as he stared at the crowd around them.
Then, familiar voices called their names.
Steven and Shuaibo emerged from the crowd, trying their best to carve a path from the two baristas to the actual shop. They gestured for them to enter quickly, which they did.
The doors slammed shut. Catching his breath, Han picked up his head and found Juwon and Daisuke on the last hour of their shift, standing behind the counter, exchanging glances.
Before they could say anything, though, Steven raised his voice.
“Everyone,” he said, clearing his throat. “I know we’re all confused, but… the… the video — “
“Fifteen million people watched it,” Shuaibo interrupted.
Han’s jaw dropped.
Fifteen… million?
“Are you talking about the one I’m in?” Han said, recalling his moment with Woongki yesterday.
“Yeah, but…” Steven started. “They’re all talking about it because of Woongki-ssi.”
“Me!?” Woongki said at a decibel that would have destroyed Han’s ears if it went on for longer than a second.
“Yeah, they — just… ah, just look at the page,” Steven said, gesturing for them to check their phones.
Han did so, and, despite him not even being the focus of the video, found thousands upon thousands of comments calling Woongki cute, and adorable, and handsome… everything. It was so much worse than the comments customers would make to his face. Han felt a gnawing in his stomach.
“I saw it this morning,” Juwon said. “So… Daisuke and I locked the doors when we saw a crowd. And it just grew… and grew… and grew…”
Steven shook his head. “We need to call Jeongwoo… and tell Chih En-ssi he’s off today, we can’t possibly operate like this…”
He grabbed Shuaibo by the arm, pulling him into the back and leaving the baristas by themselves.
Silence.
And then… Woongki laughed, phone in hand.
Han glanced at him. “What?”
Woongki shook his head. “Well… it’s not just me they’re here for.”
Everyone gathered around Woongki’s phone, finding a comment with millions of likes.
‘@jlgaspar: i’d like to visit too :)’
Han’s stomach dropped.
Everyone… even an idol like JL…
Everyone likes Woongki.