I'll be with you

The phone vibrated, bursting with the melody of the alarm clock. Who even decided that this was a melody? A set of heartbreaking sounds that seem to knock on the cerebral cortex. First beep... second beep... third beep... damn! Minho sat bolt upright on the bed, his eyes wide. For the first few seconds, he didn’t even understand why his heart was beating faster than usual and his breathing was a little labored. Then the epiphany came: the phone fell off the nightstand with a crash, waking Lee up completely. He bent down, reaching to the floor, turned off the restless alarm clock and straightened up, taking a deep breath. "Good morning, Dory... is this Dory?" Minho yawned, groping the cat behind his back and stroking its head. It was definitely Dory, and the other cats were apparently waiting for their breakfast in the kitchen. He stretched and got out of bed, heading to the bathroom ─ small, cramped, but quite comfortable. In fact, considering there were three guys living in this apartment, it was a pretty clean bathroom. After washing his face, Minho found the towel hanging on the hook with his hand and wiped his face, looking at himself in the mirror. He was quite pleased with his appearance, but when he lowered his eyes, his mood quickly deteriorated. There were bright blue spots on the white, almost new towel. The guy clicked his tongue irritably, frowning: "Felix! What is it?" he shouted, leaning out of the bathroom and looking around in search of his neighbor. He showed up quite quickly, sitting in the kitchen having his morning coffee. “It’s a towel, Minho,” he noted, calmly looking up at the guy, “Why are you asked? Have you started to forget words because of overwork?" Felix crossed his legs, leaned against the back of the chair and straightened the strands of damp blue hair falling over his forehead. Minho huffed angrily, straightening the towel to reveal the stains on it. "I told you a hundred times, since you dye your hair, use a separate towel, like me! And who even wipes their hair with a face towel?" "What's the difference? There are no blue spots on your face yet, and that’s the main thing,” he yawned, taking another sip of coffee, “I’ll wash it off. Well... I'll try." “You better pray that it actually washes off,” Minho muttered, filling a basin with water and putting a towel in it, “otherwise this towel will end up in your throat.” "What happened again?" came Hyunjin’s voice, returning from the balcony. He took a quick glance at Felix with a damp head, an angry Minho and the basin in his hands, where bluish spots were already spreading on the surface, "Okay, I see. Minho, everything is under control, I’ll wash it, you can go,” he took the basin from his hands, taking it back to the bathroom. Minho rubbed his eyes and sighed: "Thank you, Hyunjin. I have a morning shift today... and I really should hurry up." Minho headed to the bedroom. By some miracle, he got a separate room when Hyunjin and Felix were sharing the same room. At first it was assumed that Minho's room was the bedroom for the three of them, and Felix and Hyunjin's room was the living room, but it turned out that all three had very different routines, and sleeping in the same room for the three of them was an unbearable experience. Minho moved into the living room, but after a while, Felix's nightly routine upon arriving home began to wake him up too often, unlike Hyunjin, who could only be woken up by a good nudge in the side. So Hyunjin took Minho’s place in the living room, and then Felix somehow moved there unnoticed. This suited them all, because the bedroom was really too small even for two people, and in the living room there was too much space for three students who only slept and stored things at home. After changing into casual clothes, Minho poured food for the cats and completed his morning routine, grabbing his bag and running out of the house. There was enough time before the shift, but he preferred to come very early, and he was always worried that something unexpected would happen, and therefore left himself an extra hour just in case. Was this a sign of anxiety, as his colleague Seungmin had repeatedly hinted to him? Maybe. In general, the day started out disgustingly. Usually it turned out somehow less tense, and Minho got to the coffee shop almost calm. Of course, the guy could blame it all on the sudden awakening and the incident with the towel, but he didn’t want to admit that he was so petty as to be irritated over such trifles. There were only a couple of intersections left to the coffee shop, so he needed to calm down and collect his thoughts. A very familiar building, on the corner of which there was a door of a pleasant brick color. Above the door is a round white sign with the sweeping letters “Racha” written in black. Usually Minho was the first to arrive here, he even had his own key to the door. This was probably one of the most striking indicators that he practically lived at work. However, today the door was open... and through the large windows he saw a lot of things that he did not like at all. There was clearly some kind of chaos going inside. Minho opened the door, which opened with an eerie creak, and looked around, frowning with suspicion. The tables and chairs were completely different from the last time, and there seemed to be even more of them, and the counter where the guy always worked was littered with things pulled out of the back room. This last fact offended Minho quite a lot: in the utility room he kept a lot of personal items, such as an extra set of clothes, a couple of framed photographs of his cats, and even a few textbooks. Extending his comfort zone to any place where he was more than a couple times a week was too important for Minho's peace of mind. The young man walked behind the counter, pulling his phone and wallet out of his pocket, putting them in their usual place. He began to carefully pull his things out of the pile of trash, putting them in piles where bottles of syrups should have been, but for some reason they were also missing. He understood nothing at all, and felt serious anxiety about who could open the door and move everything here. It was getting really creepy. Minho slowly examined the remaining things: numerous empty cardboard boxes, aprons, some folders with documents that seemed quite old, empty syrup bottles... as if someone had decided to take out from the back room all the garbage that had accumulated there over the long seven years of existence of "Racha.” With slight apprehension, the guy looked at the utility room door. Obviously, the reason for all this news lies there. Who might even be outside the door? Homeless? But how did he or she or somebody else get into the establishment? Didn’t someone lock it yesterday? Failed joker? In this case, this joker will have a blast! Crazy? Then Minho himself will get hit sooner. Robber?.. But before Minho could make a final decision about whether to open the door for him or not, he heard the bell ringing at the entrance and quickly turned around. A guy of average height in a baggy bright sweatshirt and faded jeans walked into the opening, clutching some kind of folder in his hands. He looked around the room, apparently looking for someone other than an angry and scared Minho, but in the end he still walked up to him and awkwardly asked: "Excuse me, do you happen to know where Mr. Yang Seung is now?" his voice was quite quiet and soft. Minho stared at him in confusion. Who the hell is Yang Seung? He raised an eyebrow and answered quietly: "Hello... sorry, this is the first time I’ve heard this name. You probably got something mixed up. What place were you looking for? Maybe I can help you?" "No, no,” the young man assured him, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, apparently very worried, "I’m looking for exactly this place, the former “Racha” coffee shop..." "Excuse me?" Minho abruptly interrupted him, frowning his eyebrows, "why “former”? Just three days ago, on my last shift, it was a fully functioning coffee shop, you know. I work here." The young man widened his eyes, frozen in place. Then he bit his lip thoughtfully and looked away. "I... either this is some kind of stupid joke, or you are wrong. The owner of the coffee shop has changed, and now it’s Mr. Yang Seung,” he began to explain in a slightly hesitant tone, “and they told me that now the coffee shop is kind of... retraining as a cafe? I didn’t understand anything at all, to be honest,” he drawled plaintively, nervously tapping his fingers on the folder. Minho shook his head irritably, trying to understand something: "So, you want to say that this is some kind of new establishment, which, nevertheless, did not notify me that I no longer work here? And why such a rush? The change of ownership doesn't happen that quickly, it seems?" "And here I can even explain!" the guy exhaled, raising his hand, "Yang Seung is a very ambitious man and, how should I say it... hot-tempered. If he has the idea of ​​buying some establishment, he will pay any amount so that it belongs to him as quickly as possible. He, you know,” he leaned closer to Minho, whispering, “is not all right in his head, as far as I know.” “Nonsense,” Minho snorted, “this is absolutely impossible. My boss, of course, did not suit me in everything, but he was adequate, and would definitely at least notify me that I, a multiple employee of the month, was either being transferred to a new position or fired... and what are you doing here?" The young man bit his lip and handed the folder to Lee, quietly explaining: "My... um, friend, suggested that I apply for a job here. As a waiter. He has good connections, and he was present at the agreement on the change of management of “Racha”, so he immediately wrote to me when he realized that they would soon need new employees, because almost all the old ones were going to be fired..." Minho sighed and glanced at the documents handed to him: “In that case, I have to say that your friend was playing a joke on you,” he shrugged, returning the folder to him, “well, or it’s one huge joke on me... His words were interrupted by the creaking of the door behind him. A tall, plump man came out of the back room, approached Minho from behind and confidently placed his hand on his shoulder, causing him to tremble with hostility: "It was I who asked your boss not to tell you anything, Lee Minho... aren’t you Lee Minho?" he clarified in his deep voice, "I know that you have repeatedly become employee of the month as a barista... do you think you can handle the job of a waiter or cook?" Minho spun around, looking up and snorting. He no longer cared about the young man in the sweatshirt; they were either making an equally stupid joke on him, or he was also a participant in the prank: "So you are Yang Seung?" he asked again, "Well, no, this is definitely some kind of stupid joke. But what's the point?" "No, this is not a joke," Seung shrugged, "if you don’t believe me, you can ask your colleague Seungmin... your former colleague, to be more precise. I'm kind of your boss now... so I think we need to talk about how you'll work now, and whether you'll work at all." Minho frowned, looked away and said: "But wait, this is nonsense. Why did you decide that you could just transfer me from the position of barista, where I received all the employee of the month titles, to the position of... excuse me, who was they offering me?" "A waiter or a cook, like in a regular cafe,” Seung repeated. It didn’t seem like he was listening to Minho attentively, but at least he didn’t interrupt, "these are positions quite close to each other, right?" "Not at all." the guy interrupted him, "Barista... it sounds proud, you know, and the waiter... any student can be hired for this position!" he pointed to the guy in the sweatshirt still standing next to him. For a split second he was a little embarrassed that the young man seemed offended by his words, but now that was the least of his worries. Seung chuckled, falling silent and leaning his back against the counter, waiting for Minho to continue his words. Minho froze. He didn't understand at all what was happening. This can't really happen? Is this all one big joke? His heart was pounding louder than usual, and it was becoming noticeably harder to breathe, but Minho took a couple of deep breaths and crossed his arms over his chest, lifting his chin and looking at Seung. Such a cheap manipulation as simply harassing Minho with silence will not work for him. He won't continue talking! Fifteen seconds passed, but it seemed like an hour to Minho. Seung calmly pierced the young man with his eyes. There was not a drop of humor visible in his gaze. Suspicions crept in that this might not be a joke. But, if this is not a joke... then this is the most terrible day of Minho’s life. And Seung is really crazy, as the guy in the hoodie told him. Seung was silent for a couple more seconds, but then gave up and continued: "Well, if you refuse to work in the remade “Racha,” then, to be honest, I’ll be upset,” he sighed and brought his eyebrows together. Minho wouldn't say he looked angry. Seung seemed to have no emotional range at all, "your previous boss praised you a lot. You are responsible, serious and attentive, so I would be glad to see you in the team." He raised the corners of his lips. It was difficult to call it a smile. Minho didn't understand anything at all. But he knew one thing for sure: he was not going to participate in this clownery. “In that case, I’m leaving,” he answered firmly, “such an attitude towards an employee is unforgivable. Goodbye." Minho turned on his heels, walked over to his things and collected them in one of the many cardboard boxes, leaving his once favorite place of work in deafening silence, and now some kind of fucking circus. He looked around, looking around the street as it gradually began its daily life. The first traffic jams began, people were already scurrying along the sidewalks. Everyone's workday was starting, but Minho seemed to have been fired. He was fired from his favorite job, to which he devoted three years. The young man sighed, placing the box of things at his feet and putting the phone in his pocket. It all seemed like some kind of strange, crazy dream: rich psychopath Yang Seung, who doesn’t understand how the real world works, and doesn’t even know what the difference is between a barista and a waiter, this strange guy in a hoodie... it’s also completely unclear what happened with the boss he had before! What happened to Seungmin? Also not without interest. But first, of course, he need to call his boss. Minho bit his lip, taking out his phone and finding the number he wanted in his contacts. Right before “Racha” it was too loud to make a phone call, so he took the box and walked between two houses into a quiet narrow alley, dialing a number as he went and putting the receiver to his ear. Beeps. Long beeps that meant only one thing: no one wouldn’t answer him. In any case, no one won’t answer today. But he needed to get at least some explanation for what was happening! So Minho called again and again, each time getting only one result. After about ten attempts, a quiet cough was heard behind the young man’s back, clearly hinting that someone wanted to talk to Minho. He turned around. It was a man who looked like a homeless person, in shabby, unremarkable clothes and with some kind of strange beard. “Hello, Mister,” he muttered, approaching Minho, “do you have any change?” Minho automatically felt his jacket pocket, but didn’t feel his wallet. It became noticeably colder inside. He forgot his wallet there at work... at a job he no longer has. “Sorry, Mister,” he answered in a trembling voice, shrugging his shoulders, “I think I forgot my wallet.” “What a pity,” the homeless man muttered, but did not leave, but only took a step closer, “is there really no money?” Not at all? Just a pity for some homeless person? Minho looked at him in fear and took a couple of steps back towards the wall. Damn it, no one will even see him here unless they specifically look for him. Who is this homeless guy? “I really don’t have any money with me,” he exhaled hoarsely, “sorry.” "Yes? Or maybe..." the homeless man stuck his hand into the inner pocket of his clothes, "something like a knife will help you remember where you put your wallet?" But before he had time to pull anything out of his pocket, an uncertain but rather loud voice came from the direction of the coffee shop: "Excuse me, sir... could you please move away from my friend?" Minho quickly turned around. The guy in the sweatshirt stood five meters away from them. He seemed quite harmless, and Lee even felt somewhat awkward. It seems that the boy is finished because of his courage... and in general, the situation seemed terribly ridiculous. It was difficult to take both the homeless man and the newly minted defender seriously, but nevertheless, Minho sharply sensed the danger, strangely in harmony with the comedy of the situation. But, honestly, Minho was a little flattered that, despite a little rudeness on his part, the guy still... came for some reason. However, the homeless man actually shrugged and said: “Yes, you’re welcome, sir,” he chuckled, “I won’t bother you.” He retreated towards the courtyards and gateways, making the situation completely absurd. Didn't he have a knife? Or did he simply decide not to risk it, since there were three of them? The guy in the sweatshirt immediately exhaled with a wheeze, leaning against the wall and swallowing in fear: "I understood correctly that he threatened you, right?" There was genuine panic in his voice, making it clear that he took the situation much more seriously than Lee. Minho blinked his eyes, looking first at the guy and then at the retreating homeless man, unable to say a word. The guy approached him, holding out Minho’s forgotten wallet: "You left it. I thought you wouldn’t want to go back there,” he muttered, looking down and pursing his lip. Minho took his wallet and put it in his pocket. "Thank you... I'm sorry, I think I was a little rude to you." “It’s okay,” the guy waved his hands, “I understand everything, you’re having a disgusting day today! Like... you have every right to be in a bad mood, don't you?" he smiled awkwardly, raising his eyes and extending his hand, "My name is Han Jisung." Minho shook his hand and also smiled awkwardly, looking away: "Well, you already know my name... thanks again." Jisung looked away, patted the guy on the shoulder and quickly turned around, walking towards the coffee shop. And Minho was left alone ─ alone with his dismissal, an unsuccessful robbery and a complete lack of understanding of what was happening.