1 | First String of Fate

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The park is quieter than ever: unusual compare usual, usual compare whenever it's not supposed to be. It's a little complicated, Jungkook grew used to it.

The usual popcorn-stand sits worn out at the corner of the intersection, its red blending into aging colors of the street cornering the park. It has been there from the day Jungkook settled into the neighborhood up to present. Jungkook likes seeing it there, unoccupied, rusty and extant regardless. It reminds him of stability, the good kind of change that doesn't steal away from the core that matters. Jungkook has seen the trees change colors through the seasons, the concrete be replaced after a car crash incident, the wet laundry come and go strings hanging down the street. Jungkook has never seen the popcorn-stand occupied. It's a pleasant mystery.

Standing purposelessly among the greens, Jungkook scans the area through the smoke vaporing his eye sight when he rubs his fingerless gloved hands together. The weather's still a little cold so it's understandable that people wouldn't want to breakfast through the wind. Displeased by his early morning choice of filming, Jungkook takes ahold of his tripod and black slump bag of equipment, settling on passing time by the window seat of the café he considers his escapade heretofore.

He'll find a few victims soon enough. They always come around.

"Good morning good Sir, and welcome-welcome to Avocado. May your dreams come true, but first try our lovely macchiato!"

It is a sight, with Jungkook juggling his equipment through the little wooden door but as always, he makes it one piece to the counter. He slumps his arms unto the slightly-high surface and throws a lazy grin at the barista who intently returns his expression.

"Wasn't your best, admit it." Jungkook tilts his head in disapproval. It doesn't faze the barista.

"It'll be perfect as long as you keep doing your job."

"Which is?"

The barista shifts unabashedly, tapping a few buttons on his cashier register without taking his eyes off of Jungkook. "Constructive criticism. You're my test subject, if you haven't noticed."

Jungkook snorts. "So you're actually good at the pick-up line thing."

With the barista's duh, Jungkook's snort turns into a shoulder-shaking laughter. It's a routine between them by now, this cheerful banter thing they have going on. Jungkook hasn't dwelled on the friendship they could have levelled up during months of continuous counter chatter. Neither side has shown further interest in advancement, and so they have stuck to being pick-up line acquaintances.

Jungkook takes a brief look around as the barista prepares his order, arching his brows when he realizes he's the only customer inside. It's surprising to see the bustling café so empty, as it's a popular destination for habitants of the neighborhood and by-passers with its homey design and overdue Christmas decoration. Jungkook almost feels like a nuisance at the orderly arrangement, his stomach churning when he matches the feeling to first day of middle school, to being the first kid stepping into a class of neatly arranged desks. 

Yikes.

"I suppose you have a lot of time in your hands today." The barista reappears with a small cup of macchiato – yes, he probably used the damn macchiato line on Jungkook because he knows Jungkook is an enthusiast – and places it on the counter, very kindly. Jungkook likes the little clicking sound that comes out of the gesture, his gaze delayed when he answers.

"I guess I'm a little too early for park meet ups? They'll come around a while later." Jungkook mumbles, absent-mindedly checking his wrist watch. It's 10 a.m., not that late too dang it.

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