Understanding Simple (Chanyeol X Reader)

Chapter 3

(Y/n POV)

After getting Chayeol's number, I can't sleep.

Did he really mean for this to be in my hands or was it meant for someone else? Should I call him? Why would he like me--a simple girl who won tickets to the concert?

I decide that I would wait a day, and see what happens.

In the morning, I head to my grandparents' store; I will be living with them over the summer. My parents were never really around when I was younger, and then they got divorced...it all went downhill from there.

Their shop is small, with only six isles of food and medicine. My grandma is a pharmacist, and works the pharmacy in the back, while my grandpa (and occasionally myself) runs the rest of the store. It got harder for him as he got older, so I've basically been running the store myself every summer.

More than a summer this time I guess.

Before I went to college, I made a promise to my grandparents that I would take care of them, like how they took care of me in my second year of college. So, this will be my life.

After my shift, I drive to an ice cream shop where I told (b/f) I'd meet her. The shop is out of the city, on a long, dirt road. Surprisingly, they make good business, with the few loyal customers that keep it going. I walk inside and see (b/f) standing in line, waiting to order. I slip by those waiting in line and take my spot next to her.

"So, what are you going to order?" I ask.

She jumps, letting out a small squeak, "geez! I didn't even notice you came in! You scared the crap out of me!"

"Sorry."

"Anyway, I'm going to order my usual, banana split. How about you?"

"I'm going to get my usual too," I answer, "(your favorite ice cream)."

"Why do you always get that?" She moans.

"Why do you always get the banana split, hm?"

"The banana split is an art that should be shared with every mouth alive at all times."

"Touché."

We order our ice cream and take a seat at our favorite booth in the back. When we were younger, we used to look at all the people in the shop and try to guess things about them, like their job and age. Once, there was an old woman that came in wearing thousands of pieces of jewelry. We joked and said that she was a hooker. Well, she heard us and had us removed from the premises. But, since we're their best customers, they allowed us to come back a few days after.

"So, what happened last night?! You missed the concert!"

"You won't believe what happened..." I begin to tell her how I was looking for the bathroom, then was ushered backstage, where I was a make-up artist for Park Chanyeol.

"Are you kidding me? You've got to be joking!" She exclaims.

"I'm not joking, look," I pull out the card he gave me and handed it to her. Her eyes widened.

"Have you called him?!" She delicately hands it back to me.

"No..." I mutter.

"Why not?! One of the hottest guys in the world gave you his number, and you won't even give him a call?"

"I was going to wait a day..." I explain.

"Are you insane?! He would forget you within a day!"

"Really? He would just forget me?"

She sighs, "you're screwed."

I take a lick of my ice cream, mentally yelling at myself for being so stupid. I continue looking at my ice cream, hoping there was some way it could take away my sorrows.

That's when (b/f) starts hitting my arm.

"I'm really not in the mood." I mutter.

"Not in the mood for what?" A deep voice asks from above me. I lift my eyes to see him standing there.

"U-uh." I stutter.

(B/f) gets up from her seat, "I think I'm going to go to the restroom." She winks at me.

As she leaves, Chanyeol asks,"can I sit down?"

"Of course," I tell him.

He settles down into the seat and leans back on the booth.

"I thought I wouldn't see you again. I mean, you never called so..."

"I'm sorry about that, I was going to call you, I just didn't know when."

"Phew. I thought you'd never give me a chance." He grins. His ear poke out from his short hair, and I can see noticeable bags under his eyes.

"Can I tell you something?" I ask.

"Anything."

"I'm not really a make-up artist." I tell.

"What are you talking about?" He raises an eyebrow.

I explain what happened last night, and he gives me a smile.

"And I thought you were a pro. I mean, you did great on my make-up. And our chats were refreshing after the sets. I'd consider you a make-up artist."

"Well, I didn't mean to intrude or anything. It was just a case of mistaken identity."

"That happens-" he laughs.

I look down at my hands.

"Would you like to go out with me?" He proposes.

"You mean on a date?" I say stupidly.

"Something like that," he jokes.

I laugh at my idiocy, "I'd love to."

"Then it's a date," he smirks, "tomorrow at six is okay?"

I nod.

"I'll see you then." He then gets up from his seat and walks out confidently.