min yoongi plays piano at your uncle's cafe every tuesday & thursday. you have the privelege of watching him slowly become a star. too bad love becomes complicated once in the spotlight.
{a remastered, clean, and properly edited version of everyone...
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[ as this is an x reader, i'll be writing in the second person tense. "Y/N" stands for "your name", so anytime to you see it, just insert your own name in your mind as you're reading! ]
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all of them dreams- tom rosenthal
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You set down your coffee as the bell at the top of the shop's front door rang, indicating that a new customer had arrived. You plastered on your best customer service kind of smile, ready to greet the guest that had walked in before offering them samples of the cinnamon twists you had just put on display. The business had been slow so far that morning, and there wasn't a single other person in the store.
"Hi, welcome to Youth and Impulse Café. How may I help you today?" You began your typical spiel, removing your eyes from the morning newspaper to make eye contact with the customer. Eye contact was the key to positive business interactions, your late father had once told you. It was practically the gold rule of the family business and something you had never let yourself forget.
"Yeah, I'm, uh, looking for Stevens?" the young man seemed unsure, presenting his words as more of a question, rather than a definitive statement. You looked him up and down, taking notice of how he lacked an umbrella on a stormy day such as this, and how he was dripping water from his clothes onto the wood floor.
He looked like somewhat of a typical hipster, and you braced for impact. Given that the business was so elegantly named "Youth & Impulse Café", you had served plenty of "typical hipsters" over the years. Your experiences with them were generally unpleasant. They were the types of people to come in, order a latte with a pretty steamed milk design on top, snap an aesthetically pleasing picture for their blog, and then leave. It was a rare occasion that those people ever even took a single sip of the coffee they had ordered, and something about that always irritated you.
Despite your negative preconceived notions about the man, you maintained a polite composure.
"Stevens is out on a supply run. We ran out of cinnamon," you smiled sheepishly, glancing over at the abundant amount of cinnamon twists you had insisted on baking, simply because they tasted so good.
"Oh," the young man replied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. His uneasy and generally uncomfortable demeanor made you feel the need to ask why he was looking for your uncle, Stevens, the owner of the café.
"May I ask what you're meeting him for?"
"I'm Min Yoongi. I'm supposed to be meeting with him for an audition to play piano here on Tuesday and Thursday nights?"
"Oh!" You were instantly relieved to hear that he didn't just want a cool artsy latte to post a picture of, "We've been looking for somebody to fill that position for months now." You said enthusiastically, eliciting a hint of an embarrassed smile from the boy. "He should be back soon, so do you mind waiting?"
