Polaroid // PJM

XIII

It was one of those days the boys had actually planned to treat themselves with something nice, celebrating their 6 year old friendship and wasting a little money.

Their first destination was a fancy restaurant in a new city they came across on the map. The city was less crowded, no street vendors and the  citizens were dressed in brands. The cleanliness of the streets and construction of the buildings portrayed the social level of the society within.

The four men walked around, snapping pictures every now and then on their way to the said restaurant, not escaping the judging looks of the passerby's for they were dressed in casual clothing that somewhat resembled their not-so-rich status.

Walking in, the atmosphere changed drastically as the hot stinging air was replaced with the cool breeze of the air conditioner.

The receptionist glanced at them, already judgmental, he put on his best fake smile that he usually gave to the whiny customers.

"How may I help you, sir?"

Namjoon went first, his friendly and leading demeanor showing while on the other hand, Jungkook ensured to be the last to walk in, his shyness didn't help him as he stood at the back, eyes wide open, glaring at the man behind the tall mahogany desk.

"Is there a reservation for Mr. Kim?"

The man looked down at the names laying in front of him, his eyes quickly finding the name called but he intended to take a second or two fake scanning the paper to think about "Mr. Kim" and where he was, it couldn't be that man standing tall ahead of him, could it?

The receptionist eyed Namjoon again, his ripped jeans, loose 14 dollar print shirt and his beanie.

A beanie? In this weather and this place? It definitely isn't Mr. Kim.

He put on a smile again.

"Yes, there is a reservation for Mr. Kim. Is he perhaps not attending?"

Hoseok frowned, he knew what the man meant by his words and he knew that Namjoon did too, maybe they all did expect for Jungkook, he probably has his eyes still wide open at the situation unwrapping ahead of him.

Despite the words said, Namjoon grinned at the man, his teeth showing and in a confident tone, he said:

"I am Mr. Kim"

The receptionist was taken aback for a second.

"Sure, sir. Your table of four awaits you."

He flicked his hands at a woman, dressed in a short black dress that stood a few feet behind him.

"Take.... Mr. Kim and his-"

He looked at them again.

"- friends to table number 8."

The woman took four menus in one hand and held out the other, pointing into the insides.

"Please, follow me."

She gestured them towards their table as they followed her in a beeline and laid down the menus in front of them once they were seated. She had a genuine smile on her face.

Sitting down, Jimin looked across the restaurant that wasn't too crowded neither too empty. People were dressed in fancy clothes, most wore formal attire and he wondered if they came for meetings or if that was how they dressed everyday. He found the latter idea tiring.

Jimin's head stopped moving as he saw a familiar short jet black haired woman standing but he couldn't pinpoint where he saw her. She looked at his direction and in an instant, he remembered that glare and how could he forget it for it bore right through his skin.