chicken noodle soup || sope

two

Hoseok didn't have very many clothes and the ones he did own were old and worn out. His dark shirts had faded to gray, and the white shirts had been stained ivory. He had one pair of ripped jeans that he wore almost everyday and a chef's uniform that he had to buy for culinary school. Having fancy clothes wasn't so important to the young chef. His clothes served their purpose and he didn't have the luxury of caring about aesthetics or style. That was the reality of being broke.

There was one more outfit that Hoseok kept in the very back of the closet. It was a brand new bright white button-up shirt and tailored black slacks, gifted to him by Seokjin on his last birthday. Hoseok had a hard time imagining how much the suit had cost, but based off of the light silky materials, it was probably more than all the rest of his clothes combined. Other than trying it on once on his birthday, he had never worn it. He wouldn't dare risk ruining the most expensive thing that he owned.

Yet today Hoseok pulled the neatly folded suit out of the back of his closet and laid it out on his bed. He would finally have the opportunity to wear it to his first interview at Suga's. In the culinary world, it was normal for employers to give two interviews. The first- what Hoseok was preparing for- was the regular sit-down interview. If he passed that, he would go on to the second interview, which was a cooking test and the part that terrified him the most. Hoseok had been jittery all morning even though he was pretty confident in first interviews. Everyone always told him that he was impossible to hate, due to his kind-heartedness and infectious smile.

Hoseok pulled on the suit pants and shirt, buttoning the shirt to the second last button. He looked himself up-and-down in the mirror. Not too shabby. The suit was well tailored, making him look a bit taller than he actually was. He slicked his light brown hair back behind his ears and smiled at himself in the mirror. Perfect. Hoseok grabbed the travel mug full of coffee off his kitchen counter and left his drab apartment fully prepared to rock his interview.

 When the city bus pulled up to the stop closest to Suga's, Hoseok stepped out onto the busy street with a grin. Wow, this place must be really fancy, it's in the dead center of the city. The bustling roads around him were packed with traffic and rushed pedestrians, most of them businesspeople scuttling to and from work. Hoseok decided that the street had a good atmosphere. He would like to work here.

He stood aimlessly on the sidewalk, trying to finish his coffee before he went into his interview, but was interrupted when his phone vibrated in his front pocket. He pulled the device out, pressing the home button to check the notification.

WorldwideShoulders: Good luck on your interview Hobi, you're going to do great! 😊

Hoseok grinned. What had made him even happier than getting an interview was that Seokjin had gotten one as well. Seokjin's was scheduled for later that same day. Hoseok loved the idea of them working together. Since his cooking skills weren't quite up to snuff, he was comforted by having Seokjin there to help him or answer his questions like they did in culinary school.

As Hoseok went to respond to the text, a random pedestrian, who was also staring down at his phone screen, walked straight into Hoseok, knocking his arm. Hoseok gasped as he stumbled backwards, losing his grip on his coffee cup. The cup fell against his chest spilling the remainder of the dark liquid straight onto his shirt and his travel mug clattered onto the sidewalk.

"Watch where you're going asshole," The stranger grumbled at him before stalking off.

"Sorry!" Hobi called after him, feeling at fault despite the fact that he had been standing perfectly still at the edge of the sidewalk. He sighed looking down at his shirt. His crisp white shirt now soaked down the front with brown liquid, making the material stick against his skin. He checked his phone screen frantically and realized he didn't have time to go try to wash it out and dry his shirt- his interview was in ten minutes. The red head's heart dropped in his chest. All he could do was hope that the interviewer was an understanding person.

-

Suga's was cool. Like, really fucking cool. Hoseok stood outside the jet-black brick building, staring in awe of the chic metal detailing and natural ivy the climbed up the walls. The restaurant was pretty small, tucked away between a large office building and a luxury department store. Hoseok climbed up the stone stairs to the front door, quickly forgetting about his stained shirt.

As he walked in he was met by a small blonde man who must have been a little bit younger than Hoseok. Instead of greeting Hoseok properly, the blonde stared down at his stained shirt and grimaced.

"Yikes."

Hoseok didn't really know how to respond to that. He looked around awkwardly, hoping there was someone a little more professional to talk to somewhere in the restaurant. Luckily, another worker walked up to them, frowning down at the blonde waiter in disapproval.

"Jimin, how many times do I have to tell you to greet guests properly?" He chastised the blonde, before turning to Hoseok and bowing apologetically. "Sorry about that. My name is Taehyung, what can I help you with today, sir?"

"Actually, I'm here to interview for the chef position," Hoseok explained politely, "My interview's scheduled for 1:45pm."

"Oh-" Taehyung shared a concerned look with Jimin before turning back to Hoseok. "Um, just follow me then. I'll take you to see Chef Min in the office."

"Okay thank you," Hoseok beamed.

Taehyung led him to the back of the restaurant, to what Hoseok assumed was the head chef's office.

"He's just in there. Just knock first to make sure he isn't busy," Taehyung explained. Hoseok nodded and smiled at the kind man. It was that smile that worried Taehyung. He hesitated, then placed his hand reassuringly on Hoseok's shoulder and added, "Good luck... you're going to need it."

Taehyung left Hoseok at the office and returned to Jimin, shaking his head as he walked.

"That poor guy's gonna get eaten alive," He sighed.

-

A/N:

If these two were my waiters at a restaurant, I would respectfully pass away.