Chapter Text
Seokjin barely has his foot in the door when the chaos begins.
“Hyung! Save me!” Is shouted from the other side of the room, a mop of black hair poking through the pink curtain that separates the kitchen from the rest of the store. When Seokjin makes the mistake of looking over, he’s met with a pair of desperate eyes and pouty lips.
“Brat, does it look like I’m in position to help you right now?” Seokjin holds up the drink holder that he supports with both hands, shaking it gently so that the sound of liquid sloshing around in the cups can be heard. It’s tempting to see how loud he can get, but Seokjin knows from past attempts that it only leads to coffee spilled on the kitchen floor.
“But hyung, ” Jungkook tries again, allowing the curtains to support his weight as he falls forward, using his grip on the fabric to keep him from falling all the way. “They’re scary!”
Seokjin wants to scold Jungkook for calling customers names when they could potentially hear him, but it’s hard to argue with Jungkook. Seokjin is blessed that Jungkook works six days a week even though he still has his senior year of high school to complete. Not that Seokjin necessarily hates working up front with the customers (some days, it’s his favorite thing to do) but he’s certainly glad he has Jungkook to sacrifice to the crowd of customers gathered at the counter on days like this.
Saturdays are easily the busiest day out of the week for SUGA Cakes, the small cupcake bakery that Kim Seokjin claims he gave birth to over five years ago (quite loudly, when Yoongi begs him to stop calling the store his ‘baby’ in public), only a few months after graduating high school. Sometimes, when Seokjin looks at the line that even goes out the door occasionally, customers impatiently waiting at a chance to get their hands on his creations, he can’t believe how far he’s made it.
He knows what makes Jungkook so anxious about working the register on Saturdays, and the reasoning why only makes him laugh. Saturdays are obviously busy because of the fact that it’s the weekend, but from 2-4 almost every week for the past year, the neighboring college’s clubs ended their weekend meetings and liked to celebrate at SUGA Cakes. It started with the girls’ volleyball club finding the small cupcake store, but apparently word spread like a wildfire at the college, and sooner than later it felt like almost every club used SUGA Cakes as their after-club chillout place. Seokjin doesn't mind; the more customers that walk in the door, the more money walks into the store.
However, Jungkook feels different about the situation.
“Kook,” Seokjin says, eyes darting down to the watch on his wrist; it’s only half past one, and while there are definitely customers rushing into the store, it’s not until the college students arrive that Jungkook gets antsy. “It’ll be fine. You ask them what they want, and they’ll point. What’s so hard about it?” He bites back his smile.
“Because they point at me !”
As the older between the two of them by six years, Seokjin knows it’s not appropriate to laugh; Jungkook’s feared-filled eyes are beyond serious, cheeks puffed out and looking five seconds away from resorting to begging.
Seokjin laughs.
“Tell ‘em you’re not on the menu,” Seokjin manages between his fits of laughter, a sound akin to a windshield wiper filling the kitchen. It’s enough to get the other man in the kitchen to stop what he’s doing and join the conversation.
“Unless they’re millionaires with generous wallets. Then tell one of us, so we can come up front and handle negotiations,” Min Yoongi says, and smirks.
Seokjin likes Yoongi for reasons like this. The attraction never reaches past anything platonic, but he really does like Yoongi. Yoongi tends to deny feeling the same way towards Seokjin, but what his words don’t say, his actions do. Like the way there was no questioning living arrangements when they graduated from high school; they were roommates without discussion, an arrangement that hasn’t changed in the past six years. Or it’s like how Yoongi volunteers to come in earlier in morning to help prep, even when Seokjin knows he’s been up all night because that’s just what Yoongi does.
Currently, Seokjin’s favorite display of affection from Yoongi is the soft pink hair he sports, a color that’s been there ever since Seokjin mentioned he’d like the color on Yoongi a few months ago.
“I’ll take over for you in ten, just give me a moment,” Seokjin finally says, watching Jungkook’s face of worry melt away, ignoring Yoongi’s snort in the background. He knows it’d be better to make Jungkook get used to the college crowd, but he likes the feeling of Jungkook telling him he’s the best when he relieves him.
Satisfied with Seokjin’s answer, Jungkook’s disappears to the other side of the curtain, and his voice taking the next customer in line’s order can be faintly heard from inside the kitchen, but it’s mostly covered by the sound of conversing customers and the playlist that Yoongi set up that plays in the store front.
“You’re too sweet on him,” Yoongi says once Jungkook leaves. It’s not a judgemental comment, the words almost void of emotion. If anything, it’s a simple observation.
“Of course I am,” Seokjin says, not interested in denying the fact. Instead, he walks up behind Yoongi, who’s in the middle of prepping the coffee frosting for the catering order tonight. Usually, Seokjin prefers to have catering orders done the morning of, but the event he’s dropping the cupcakes off at isn’t until eight, and they’ve only ordered two types of cupcakes: fifty mocha, fifty red velvet.
Seokjin looks at the cream cheese frosting before glancing at Yoongi, who’s already glaring.
“Hyung, don’t you dare even think about-”
Seokjin sticks his finger in the bowl, grinning widely at the younger before sticking his finger in his mouth, tasting the frosting. Not that he has any doubt that Yoongi makes anything but perfection, but he missed his own lunch period in exchange for grabbing coffee for Yoongi and himself, so his empty stomach craves anything, including a fingerful of frosting.
“God, you’re disgusting,” Yoongi groans, smacking Seokjin’s other hand away before he has the chance to strike again; at least he has the courtesy to not double dip. “What’s gonna happen when a customer one day sees you?”
“Then they’ll know where I get all my sweetness from,” Seokjin says, giving Yoongi his space and heading towards the sink. He sets down the drink holder on the counter next to the sink, which Yoongi and him have dubbed ‘the coffee counter’ because no matter how many time Seokjin washes it, it smells like coffee every time, thanks to all the spills that have happened on the counter. “I mean, haven’t you heard the saying, ‘you are what you eat’? Maybe you should try eating some more frosting.”
“I’m plenty sweet without the extra dose of diabetes,” Yoongi says, grabbing a tasting spoon and testing the frosting himself. He nods, content, and takes the paddle off the KitchenAid and removes the bowl, reaching for the plastic wrap before throwing it in the fridge to cool.
Once Yoongi puts everything away, he turns back to Seokjin, throwing up a peace sign right in front of his face, just below his eyes, wearing a gummy smile.
“I’m a sweet guy, a honey boy, really,” he says, eyes crinkling. They’re both laughing when Seokjin hands Yoongi his coffee, taking his own out of the carrier and throwing the last drink in the fridge so Jungkook can grab it for his lunch.
Ten minutes later, Seokjin’s coffee cup is thrown sadly into the trash, and he knows he’s going to have to go pee sooner than later after downing the drink so quickly, but he can basically smell Jungkook’s anxiety from the store, and knows it’s the smarter call to relieve his subordinate than himself, and he heads towards the front.
The line is long, and the few tables that SUGA Cakes has available to customers are full. It’s days like this that Seokjin considers investing in some more tables, but he’s also not ready to promote the store image as anything more than a place to buy and go, the existing tables only being there to fill up some of the empty space Seokjin couldn’t figure what to fill with.
The store hasn’t changed much from the day they opened. Seokjin was ready to open with a concrete floor, a homemade menu board with pictures printed off and a shelving system to store the cupcakes, but Yoongi refused to open the doors until he was able to call the insides perfection.
Which is the reasoning behind the layout. Seokjin remembers fighting Yoongi over the design; Yoongi wanted something more modern looking, and Seokjin insisted that pastels were the only way he could ever envision the shop. In the end, it resulted in a mix of the two, sleek designs, the color palette mostly black and white, but with light pink accents spread throughout the space. Even the design of the boxes the cupcakes are packed in reflects the theme that the two had decided on.
It’s the reason why, Jungkook, looking ready to run from behind the display cases and counter, is wearing a light pink T-shirt with SUGA Cakes written in black, cursive font across the front. The aprons that Seokjin and Yoongi wear in the back and sometimes come out front wearing have similar writing on the front, but the apron is black and consequently the writing is pink.
“‘Kay, brat, you’re good to go,” Seokjin says, patting Jungkook on the back. The younger, who just finished boxing up a customer’s order, looks Seokjin with the biggest of smiles before putting the box down, nodding to the customer he was dealing with, and runs to the back.
Seokjin faces the woman at the counter: not a regular, but it’s not her first time in the store if Seokjin’s memory is serving him right. She’s probably in her mid-thirties, and has a baby strapped to her chest.
“And is this going to be all for today?” Seokjin asks, gesturing to the box of cupcakes. There’s six, a variety of the regular-sized cupcake, and her total comes out to 23.50.
“God, why is everything so expensive? Hey, also, why isn’t there a bigger selection for sugar-free options? And it’s ridiculous that you don’t have any vegan options.”
Seokjin tries not to slam his face into the register.
***
It’s only 9:54 when Seokjin rushes to the front doors and locks them, flipping the open sign around. Technically, the store doesn’t close until ten on Saturdays, the latest out of the week, but Seokjin is beyond exhausted and Jungkook is practically sleeping against the wall. Yoongi is sleeping, but he’s done so in a better location on the chair that he’s pulled from the store front to back in the kitchen.
Jungkook and Seokjin rock-paper-scissors to see who has to wake Yoongi up, and while Jungkook is the one the loses, Seokjin’s loud shouts are what wakes the sleeping man.
“Is it time to go home?” Yoongi mumbles, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Out of the three of them, he’s been here the longest, showing up before noon when the store opens to help with preparing the catering order. His shift ended almost three hours ago, but he’s Jungkook’s ride home.
“See, hyung, you should’ve just gone home,” Jungkook says, offering a hand out to pull Yoongi up from the chair. “You know, I can always just bike home.”
This wakes Yoongi, and his expression matches Seokjin’s stern one, and Jungkook groans when he realizes he’s activated the older pair’s parental mode.
“You know how we feel about you going home alone in the dark,” Yoongi says, ruffling Jungkook’s hair when he sees how tense the younger boy’s expression is. “Especially with all that’s been going on recently.”
Jungkook’s annoyed expression reverts to something more sollem, shoulders drooping. No one in the community has been talking about it too much, but everyone is showing signs of being more wary, even in the most minor of aspects.
“Guys, I don’t even fit the profile,” Jungkook weakly protests, but he’s already thrown his bike helmet in his backpack, knowing it’s a lost battle.
Jungkook is right though; he doesn’t fit the profile. But Seokjin can’t help but worry.
The first girl went missing less than two weeks ago, on the fourth of the month. There was almost no fuss about her; a college girl going missing right after Spring break seemed more like a runaway than anything else. People dismissed her case.
Until a week later, another girl went missing, from the same college. And suddenly every news station out there was eating it up, blasting on the TV that the roads weren’t safe anymore. No ransom note ever showed up, but no bodies do either, and it’s the only solace in the whole situation.
Admittedly, Jungkook is no college girl, and there’s no real reason to be concerned over his safety when he’s been biking home in the dark for years now. But Seokjin figures there’s no good reason to risk Jungkook’s safety when both Seokjin and Yoongi are capable of transporting him places.
“Oh, don’t forget your cupcakes before you leave!” Seokjin suddenly remembers, breaking the tense mood and running back to the kitchen, which is now clean thanks to Yoongi, and grabs the box from the fridge and rushes back out.
“Again? Are you sure you’re not just going home and eating them all yourself?” Yoongi teases, but he looks genuinely curious.
This is the fifth week that Jungkook has requested the ‘throwaways’ at the end of the week. The throwaways are usually cupcakes that got frosted but didn’t get sold in their two-day sell period, or ones that got smudged and don’t look good enough for selling. Either way, Seokjin usually gathers those cupcakes up and either an employee takes them, or he donates them to the food pantry a block down. This happens about three times a week, depending on if there’s leftovers or not. If there’s only one or two, they more likely end up in Seokjin’s stomach than anywhere else. It’s not like they tasted bad, in fact, they tasted delicious, but not delicious enough to blend in with the rest of the freshly made cupcakes being sold.
“They’re not for me, I swear!” Jungkook whines, holding the box close to his chest. “It’s for Monday!”
Jungkook doesn’t work Sundays, so it makes sense to Seokjin that the youngest would grab whatever he needs for Monday tonight, but it doesn’t solve the mystery of what he’s doing with the cupcakes on Monday.
“Jungkook, you can’t bribe the teachers to give you better grades with my cupcakes,” Seokjin says. Mostly because he’s tried giving the teachers cupcakes in attempts to get them to raise Jungkook’s grades, but apparently teachers are stricter than when Seokjin was in high school, because his baked goods are certainly the only reason he was able to graduate.
“It’s not for the teachers either,” Jungkook says. His nose is scrunched, and Seokjin knows the youngest wants the conversation to end already, but where Yoongi is one not to push Jungkook too hard on things like this, Jungkook’s reluctance only makes Seokjin more curious. Jungkook knows this, and a moment later defeat plays across his face, and he sighs.
“It’s for my Japanese tutor,” Jungkook finally says, lips pouted. “Remember, hyung, you made me sign up for tutoring when you saw my grades?” Seokjin nods, vaguely remembering dragging Jungkook by the ear to talk to the Japanese teacher about ways to raise Jungkook’s grades before the quarter came to an end as Jungkook’s D in the class went onto his permanent record. “Anyway, I went the first week just because I half expected you to be there waiting for me-yes, hyung, you really are that extra-” Seokjin can’t argue because he remembers wanting to skip work to go check on Jungkook- “but when I got there, you weren’t, so I tried to skip, but the tutor caught me. Like, I’m fast, but he had long legs, and admittedly that had me a little distracted-”
“-God, Jungkook, please tell me you’re not using my cupcakes in attempts to seduce your fucking tutor.”
Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he shakes his head fervently. “Not like that! But hyung, Namjoon-hyung is so cool. Like, he just explains everything so well, and when I try to tell him that, he just gets all humble and says it’s nothing, like, isn’t that so cool?” Jungkook takes a deep breath, collecting himself.
Seokjin doesn’t dare look over at Yoongi, who’s smug energy is drowning the oldest without him even seeing Yoongi smirk.
“Really, Kook? Out of all the people you know, and you think this Namjoon guy is cool?” Seokjin asks nonchalantly.
“Not just cool! God, hyung, I think he’s the coolest person I’ve ever met!”
Yoongi’s hunched over laughing, while Jungkook blinks blankly, looking between the Yoongi and Seokjin, the prior a laughing mess and the latter pale faced.
“C’mon kid, let’s get out of here before you break hyung’s heart any further,” Yoongi says when manages to catch a breath of air, obviously biting back his smile when he pats Jungkook on the back roughly.
Jungkook looks confused, but doesn’t question Yoongi, and they both wave and say goodnight before leaving the store through the back entrance, leaving Seokjin alone to mope as he finishes cleaning for the night.
Ideally, Jungkook stays back to help clean so Seokjin can move straight to the end of the night paperwork, but Seokjin already feels guilty enough for how many hours he keeps Jungkook in the store, even if he knows the boy wouldn’t have it any other way.
Jeon Jungkook is Seokjin’s ex… brother. Step-brother, to be specific, though the two have similar enough facial structure that people easily believe they're biologically related. In middle school when Seokjin’s mom first told him that she was getting remarried and that he’d have a new little brother, little Seokjin was appalled by the idea, because why did his mom need another son when she already had a perfect one?
In the end, it only took about five seconds of elementary school Jungkook looking up at Seokjin with his big, round eyes and fluttering lashes, for Seokjin to fall in love with the idea of being a big brother. In specific, being Jungkook’s big brother, because Seokjin loves doting on Jungkook, and loves having Jungkook look back at him like he’s the coolest person in the universe.
Except, apparently, now he isn’t. Which is fine, Seokjin tells himself. Jungkook’s eighteen years old now, and it’s fine that he doesn’t idolize his (sorta) older brother anymore. When their parents had gotten divorced Seokjin’s second year of high school, he had expected him and Jungkook’s relationship to fall apart, and experienced a similar feeling to the one he’s feeling now. Not heartbreak, but almost like he’s trained all his life just to lose in a tennis game against someone who’s never even picked up a racket.
Namjoon, huh?
If Seokjin is grumbling out the name while he aggressively wipes tables and sweeps the floor, no one has to know.
***
Seokjin has what he calls a love-hate relationship with Sundays.
On one hand, it’s Sunday. It means they might open a little earlier, but they do a lot of prep on Saturday for the very reason so they don’t have to come in until they’re about ready to open. More importantly, it means that Seokjin gets to kick (not literally, though he’s had wet dreams about it) customers out at 7:30, which is the most beautiful feeling in the world, especially when he knows he won’t have to come back to the store until 4:00 PM the next day, and it’s the closest thing he gets to a day off. For awhile, Yoongi and him debated closing the store completely on Sunday, or at least some other day of the week. But a day they’re not open is money lost, and the sad reality of the situation is both of them have forgotten what one even does with a day off besides sleep or get completely wasted, Seokjin being slightly more guilty of the second activity, but Yoongi has never left him without a drinking buddy.
The bad part of Sundays is that Seokjin actually forces Jungkook to take a day off. Partly because labor laws would have him paying Jungkook overtime that he can’t afford, but mostly because Seokjin agrees that it’d be nonsensical to yell at Jungkook for never doing his homework if he didn’t give him the time to do it. Not that he thinks Jungkook does his homework on Sundays; in fact, he’s almost one-hundred percent sure the younger spends his day off playing Overwatch for as many hours as his eyes can take it and then some. The point is that Jungkook’s not in the store, and because Yoongi tries (and occasionally succeeds, curse his small frame) to hide in the fridge every time Seokjin tries to make him work the counter, it means Seokjin is up front with customers all day.
It’s not so bad, he tells himself. Despite his love for baking, his hands get tired of being covered in sticky batter all the time, so working up front is a nice break. At least, it would be if the customers were decent, and a lot of them are, laughing along with Seokjin’s bad jokes that he’s admittedly just reading from a mental script at this point, and he’s sure some of the regulars have noticed.
But then later on a lady comes in claiming she bought a dozen cupcakes from the store a week ago and apparently didn’t like them, which is bad enough as it is, but she doesn’t even bother bringing a receipt and Seokjin barely can bite back his frustration when she starts demanding to be reimbursed. He’s about ready to grab a carrot cupcake, shout, “I couldn’t carrot all about your stupid reimbursement,” and shove it right in her face, but bless, Yoongi comes at the exact moment like he can sense Seokjin’s anger about to boil over, and before Seokjin can even recognize the fact that Yoongi’s voluntarily working the front counter outside of the time when Seokjin takes his break, he’s being shoved back into the kitchen.
A soft smile worms itself onto his face when he does realize, and it’s just one more reason to add to his list of why he really likes Min Yoongi.
Seokjin’s in the middle of filling piping bags with an irish buttercream frosting when Yoongi joins him in the kitchen, alerting him that the store is empty for now. There’s no reason to watch the front when there’s no one there, a bell attached to the door always ready to alert one of the two if a customer does show up, and Yoongi practically collapses in the chair that’s reserved for while they’re taking breaks. Or at least, that’s what Yoongi and Seokjin tell Jungkook when he’s around, but if he’s not around to see, Seokjin and Yoongi have fought to the brink of death over the one chair they have to rest on.
“I think we should switch to online ordering only,” Yoongi groans, leaning back, melting into the chair. “Like, seriously, how many people need to point at my hair? Yes, it’s pink. Yes, I’m cute, and unlike what the dumb fuckin’ hag who came in earlier said, it totally goes with my completely youthful and adorable face. And God, hyung, why does every customer want to question my authority?” He scrunches his face, and mocks what surely is a compilation of customers, “ I’d like to talk to the manager please .” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Like, who do these idiots think this store is named after? Certainly not your dumb ass.”
Seokjin can’t help but smile as his friend rants, and chooses to add, “That’s only because you said Lejindary Cakes didn’t look as good.”
“Is that what I told you back then? Shit, I just really wanted the store to be named after me. Lejindary Cakes sounds fine.”
Seokjin doesn’t talk to Yoongi for a whole hour, mumbling about how he can’t believe he bought Yoongi’s lies when he said Lejindary Cakes would be a lame name all those years ago, because Seokjin knows it would’ve been a great name, just like he knew back then. When he does get around to speaking to Yoongi, who’s automatically sent into giggles every time Seokjin glares at him, it’s to discuss the word document he has pulled up on his laptop.
“‘Help Wanted’, huh? Sorry hyung, I don’t think all the help in the world could save you from the mess you are-” A (light) slap to Yoongi’s shoulder shushes him, and Seokjin faces Yoongi with a serious expression.
“It’s been almost six years since we opened the shop. We got Jungkook our third year, so don’t you think it’s about time to hire another employee?” Seokjin says, gesturing to both of them. “Look at us, we’re exhausted. And the shop’s doing well enough to afford someone new, so working to the bone like this at this point in time is just a strange display of masochism.”
“I thought you were into that kind of shit.”
Seokjin narrows his eyes. “First of all, this is kink-shaming free zone, and I’ll have no tolerance for it. Second of all, c’mon, what do you think?”
“Do we really need-”
The bells attached to the front door ring, and Seokjin can hear the small family that comes through the doors, the small children yelling and the mother begging them to be quiet for just a second.
“Rock-paper-scissors!”
There’s no warning of the game, and Seokjin’s not even sure which of them started it, but he does know that Yoongi’s hand is held out flat and Seokjin’s made the shape for scissors, and he smiles victoriously at the disappointed face of his roommate.
Yoongi grumbles, “Print that paper off tonight, and I’ll hang it up first thing when I show up Monday morning. But you have to be the one to reassure Jungkook that we’re not replacing him when he sees it.”
***
Without Jungkook in the store, when Yoongi goes home, it leaves Seokjin alone in the store. He doesn’t mind it at all; he sees Jungkook almost every day, and living with Yoongi means he’s never missing his presence too much. Being alone in the store means Seokjin sings loudly, belting out whatever tune is stuck in his head. Sometimes customers hear him singing, and it prompts them to throw extra bills in the tip jar Seokjin has set up next to the register after Jungkook’s relentless begging, as he had to admit, it’s nice to have a few extra dollars to pay for coffee.
They are allowed to close early on Sundays for a reason, and it shows by how slow business is, which only makes the day go by slower. When 7:29 finally rolls around, Seokjin is so excited he practically sprints to the door to lock it when he realizes he’s not alone in the store.
He’s not sure how he missed them, but in his defense, they are sitting in the furthest table from the front counter, and both of them have their backs facing Seokjin. They’re huddled over some paper on the table, and Seokjin catches sight of one of them scribbling randomness onto the paper.
Occasionally, there’s customers like them, that like to linger at the store much longer than necessary. Seokjin’s flips the open sign loudly, hoping that it’ll catch their attention and they’ll realize that it’s time to go, but it’s of no luck, both of them too focused on whatever they’re looking at. Maybe they’re students, and part of Seokjin wants to take pity on them if they’re studying and hates the idea of disrupting them, but Seokjin’s in much more of a mood to pity himself tonight, and he’s tired.
So he walks over to the table, gently resting his hand on the table and clearing his throat. One of the men looks up, and the moment he catches sight of Seokjin, his eyes widen. His jaw drops a little, leaving his mouth agape, like he didn’t expect Seokjin to be there. Which is strange, Seokjin thinks, because it’s his shop after all.
The panicking man kicks the other man under the table, and Seokjin admits to being caught off guard when the second man turns around.
“Kim Seokjin, right?” The second man says, voice deep. He takes his hood off, revealing long, silver bangs that go past his eyebrows and would cover his eyes if it weren’t for the way they’re slightly parted on the side. He’s undeniably handsome, like something that stepped out of the shoujo manga Seokjin’s seen Jungkook read before, his whole presence surrounded by sparkles.
“That’d be me,” Seokjin answers, hesitantly in his mind, but confidently to the two men in front of him. “Can I help you two with something?” He really hopes they respond with something about needing help leaving the store.
“I’m V from Vante Investigations,” The man (who is apparently a letter from the alphabet) says, and he points to the still-gaping man next to him, “and this is my partner, J-Hope. Would you mind if we asked you some questions?”
Seokjin doesn’t know why anyone would be investigating him, except maybe investigating if he puts crack in his cupcakes and that’s why they taste so good (he made the mistake of making this joke once, and a customer really did report him to the cops. To say the least, he doesn’t make that joke anymore).
V pulls out his phone, a moment later shoving it in Seokjin’s face. Seokjin looks at the screen, and squints at the picture displayed to him: a picture of a young woman, probably around college age. Her hair is long, black, and thrown back in a ponytail, and minimal makeup has been applied to her face. Something about her looks familiar, but Seokjin can’t pinpoint it.
Once Seokjin gets a good look at the picture, V swipes to the next picture. Another college-aged girl, though that’s where the similarities stop. Her hair is dyed a neon blue, paired with enough eyeliner to last an entire middle-school emo phase, and purple lipstick that Seokjin thinks actually is pretty cute. Again, she looks familiar, but it’s nothing that he can pass past the tip of his tongue.
There’s one more picture V shows him, and at this point, Seokjin is a little concerned why the silver-haired man has so many pictures of random college girls on his phone, but he figures that V can’t be any older than them, but he really doesn’t know what it would have to do with investigations, and he really doesn’t know what it has to do with him.
“Do you recognize any of these girls?” V asks, putting his phone away into his pocket, raising a single brow at Seokjin.
Seokjin frowns. “Now, look, I don’t know what you’re up to, and I really hate to be the one to lecture, but you really shouldn’t be bothering girls like this. Can’t you, like, I don’t know, just go talk to them normally?”
The other man, J-Hope, flushes bright red, pulling his cap tighter over his head, so only a few strands of light brown hair are visible. “Look, we’re not creepers, I promise.” He offers a smile, and Seokjin swears his mouth forms a small heart.
V sighs dramatically, throwing an arm around J-Hope. When Seokjin thinks about it harder, he can’t see any reason why the two of them would need to be creeping on girls; in fact, it feels like it would be the other way around, if anything. So he decides sharing information for whatever they’re investigating, whether its some scam, they are actually stalkers, or if they’re just messing around, won’t cause any harm.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them all around,” Seokjin admits. He’s actually sure the girl in the second picture is a regular at the shop, though he doesn’t recognize the brightly colored hair, her facial structure and taste in makeup remind him of a girl he’s seen around a good amount. “I mean, it’d be better to ask my cashier, he sees the customer's more than I do, but I like to think I know who I sell to.”
Suddenly, V stands up, and the stern expression Seokjin had witnessed only seconds earlier morphs into a broad smile, V’s eyes lit with excitement. He puts his hand on J-Hope’s shoulder, squeezing with more force than wanted judging by J-Hope’s sudden pained expression.
“I knew it!” V points at Seokjin. “I knew you would be the link I was looking for!”
Seokjin can’t help but put his hands in front of himself defensively, feeling under the spotlight with V’s finger pointed at him. “Okay?”
“The pictures I just showed you,” V explains, lowering his pointed hand to gesture to his phone in his pocket, “were of the three girls from the missing persons case. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
Seokjin frowns. “Three? There’s only two though.”
V shakes his head, still grinning, and he holding up a fist, ticking off fingers as he lists them out. “Missing as of April 4th, Kwak Heiran. Missing as of April 13th, Song Jaehwa.” When he ticks off the third finger, his expression turns grim. “And reported missing this morning, Jang Soojin.”
J-Hope adds to V’s words. “All three girls are from the same college, but besides that, there’s nothing to tie them together. Not the same grades, not the same friend groups, not the same majors. Nothing to hint at why they were targeted.”
V nods and tilts his head, gaze boring into Seokjin as if he’s hiding all the answers within his soul.
“Except now we have a hint. They were all customers here. I don’t know why yet, but Kim Seokjin, your shop is the key to solving this case.”