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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 5 months ago

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Daddy Issues - Johnny Seo x Reader

Now Playing: » Daddy Issues « The Neighbourhood 3:27 ─────〇─ 4:16 ⇄ ◃◃ II ▹▹ ↻

Pairing: Johnny x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 17,656 Total Word Count: 49,636 Part 1 of 3 - (Part 2) (Part 3)

Playlist Masterlist NCT Masterlist

Warnings: Eventual SMUT, Age Gap, minor angst, not bad but not great relationship with dad

Summary: 🎵 Go ahead and cry, little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you I know that you got daddy issues 🎵 or No one makes Y/n feel more rejected that her father. That's what leads her to seek friendship with a bartender

A/N: Waa Waa Wee Waa! Part two of the NCT playlist series out! Yay! We got this daddy of a man, Johnny! Let's be real, we all got daddy fantasies about this man.

Imma hit it off the bat, a lot of this fic ended up being mAD personal and stuff (with situations with dad and older friends), so it might not seem like that big of a deal, the situations, but...it's my experience, so yeah!

(I have a very good relationship with my dad, do not worry)

sorry it took so long to get this fic out, I've been mAD busy for no bloody reason, lol

Anyways! I hope you enjoy this fic :) 💚

The rain clung to Y/n’s skin, cold and relentless, as if the sky reflected her despair. Her breath came in shaky bursts, mingling with the misty air as she hurried down the dimly lit street.

By the time she reached the bar, her heart was heavy, and her tears, though mostly wiped away, still lingered on her cheeks, though the rain washed away whatever evidence was left.

Pushing open the door, she was met with the warm glow of dim lights and the soft hum of music playing from various speakers around the bar.

The space was nearly empty, save for a couple of patrons nursing their drinks at the far end. Perfect. She didn’t need an audience tonight.

Y/n slipped onto a stool at the bar, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of the counter. She tried to compose herself, brushing stray hairs out of her face and pressing her lips together to stop them from quivering.

“What can I get you?” a deep voice asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

She glanced up, meeting the kind eyes of the bartender. His name tag read “Johnny”, and he looked effortlessly composed, a stark contrast to her disheveled state. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, a flicker of concern passing over his features as if he could sense the storm brewing within her.

Y/n’s eyes flickered over the drink menu in front of her, the weird, random names of shots and jugs blurring together in her mind.

Normally, she might’ve smirked at the creativity, or rolled her eyes, but tonight, she didn’t have the energy to care. It wasn’t about the taste or the experience. She just needed something to dull the ache clawing at her chest.

“I’ll have, uh…” She hesitated, scanning the list without really reading it. “Cowboy shot, green apple shot, red light shot, and…I don’t know. Just pick another one for me.” Her voice was flat, tinged with exhaustion, as she rested her elbows on the bar.

Johnny raised an eyebrow at her order but didn’t comment. Instead, he gave a small nod and turned to grab the required bottles.

“Coming right up,” he said, his tone calm but edged with quiet curiosity. “Rough night?” he asked casually, his tone warm but not prying.

Y/n hesitated, unsure how to respond. She wasn’t used to people asking, and the kindness in his voice felt foreign.

“Something like that,” she finally murmured, her fingers tracing the rim of the first glass he placed in front of her.

Johnny moved onto making the second shot, his movements smooth and deliberate. “Well, take it slow,” he said, his voice carrying a faint note of concern. “No rush on a quiet night like this.”

Y/n gave a faint nod, her gaze fixed on the first shot placed in front of her. It was a creamy looking shot that smelled of some kind of coffee liqueur. She wasn’t sure what to make of his attention. It wasn’t overbearing or judgmental, just…there. A steady presence that felt oddly comforting.

She downed the first shot quickly, wincing at the burn as it slid down her throat. The heat spread through her chest, momentarily distracting her from the cold knot of emotions she had carried in with her.

Johnny placed the next glass in front of her, leaning slightly on the counter. “So, what brings you out here tonight? Or is that too much to ask?”

Y/n glanced up at him, her lips tugging into a faint, humorless smile. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said, her voice low. “I’m here to dull the emotions.”

He nodded, as if he understood more than she was willing to share. “Fair enough,” he replied, sliding the next drink toward her. “Just promise me you won’t try to forget too much at once.”

Her fingers hovered over the glass for a moment, his words lingering longer than she expected. There was something about him, his calm, steady presence, that felt safe, even in her vulnerable state.

She shook her head lightly, breaking the moment. “No promises,” she muttered before taking the next shot.

Johnny didn’t press further. He simply stood nearby, his quiet watchfulness making it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

Y/n blinked slowly as the warmth of the alcohol settled into her limbs, her mind still sharp but her body beginning to feel weightless, almost disconnected. When Johnny set the third drink in front of her, she didn’t hesitate. Gripping the glass, she downed the shot quickly, her lips pulling into a slight grimace at its syrupy, thick texture.

Johnny watched her closely, his brow furrowing as she set the empty glass down with a dull clink. He leaned forward on the counter, resting his arms there as his gaze lingered on her.

“You sure about that fourth one?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern.

Y/n’s hand reached for the final shot almost instinctively, her fingers brushing the cool glass. “Yes,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for debate.

Johnny didn’t move the glass away, but he hesitated, studying her for a moment. “It’s gonna hit you all at once if you’re not careful,” he warned gently.

She lifted her gaze to meet his, her expression stubborn. “That’s the idea,” she replied quietly, her voice tinged with an edge of pain.

Johnny exhaled through his nose, clearly uneasy, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as he kept an eye on her.

“Alright,” he said, a note of resignation in his tone. “But maybe slow down after this one, yeah?”

Y/n didn’t respond, her eyes fixed ahead, deliberately avoiding his gaze. Johnny sighed softly, shaking his head as he turned to prepare the fourth shot.

He moved quickly, grabbing a clean glass and the ingredients with practiced precision, but his eyes flicked back to her every few seconds. The way she sat there, silent and withdrawn, made his concern deepen.

“You know,” he began, his tone casual but laced with a subtle seriousness as he measured out the liquor, “most people who drink like this have a real problem…and need to talk.”

She still didn’t answer, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the bar. Her silence felt heavier now, like a shield she was using to keep him at arm’s length.

Johnny finished mixing the drink and set it down in front of her with a quiet thud. He didn’t say anything this time, just leaned on the counter, his steady gaze meeting hers as if waiting for her to break the silence.

Not even six minutes later, the weight of the alcohol hit Y/n like a tidal wave. Her light, weightless feeling gave way to a suffocating heaviness as her emotions surged to the surface.

Silent tears rolled down her face, her shoulders trembling as she rested her head in her hands, trying to muffle the quiet sobs that escaped her.

Johnny remained where he was, leaning against the bar across from her. He’d been watching her closely, noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor. The way her breathing had deepened, the tremor in her hands. Now, as her tears fell, his expression softened further, concern etched into his features.

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice low and steady, careful not to startle her. “You wanna talk about it, now?”

Y/n didn’t look up, her fingers tangling in her hair as she shook her head slightly. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered, her voice breaking.

Johnny stayed silent for a moment, letting her words hang in the air before responding. “Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he said, leaning forward a bit. “Sometimes it helps, getting it out. Even to a stranger.”

She sniffled, her hands slowly sliding down to the bar as she wiped at her cheeks. Her eyes, red-rimmed and glassy, finally lifted to meet his. “What do you even care?” she asked, her voice cracking with frustration, though it lacked any real malice.

Johnny tilted his head, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Because I’ve been where you are,” he said simply. “And trust me, it’s a lot harder when you’re keeping it all bottled up.”

His sincerity seemed to disarm her. She looked away, biting her lip as fresh tears welled up, spilling over once again.

Y/n lifted her gaze back to him, her teary eyes shimmering under the dim bar lights. For a moment, her lips parted as if she were about to speak, but the weight of her emotions held her back. Finally, the dam broke.

“Why doesn’t my dad care about me?” she blurted, her voice shaky and raw. “He’s always ignoring me, like I don’t even exist. And when I try to talk to him, just to have a normal conversation with your dad, he gets all pissy, like I’m bothering him or something.”

Her hands curled into fists on the bar, her frustration spilling out in waves. “It’s like…I’m his daughter, but I feel like a stranger when I’m with him. I’ve done everything to make him proud, school, awards, everything! And it’s never enough. He just…” Her voice cracked, tears streaming down her face again. “He doesn’t care.”

Johnny stayed silent, leaning on the bar with his arms folded, his expression calm but deeply empathetic. He didn’t interrupt or offer hollow reassurances. He simply listened, his steady presence grounding her as she poured her heart out.

“I don’t get it,” Y/n continued, her voice trembling with anger and sadness. “What did I do to make him hate me? Why is it so hard for him to just…see me?”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with years of pain and neglect. Johnny let the moment breathe before speaking, his tone low and deliberate. “It’s not you,” he said softly, his eyes locking with hers. “It’s never been you.”

She looked at him, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. The sincerity in his voice and the steadiness in his gaze caught her off guard.

“I don’t know what’s going on with your dad,” Johnny continued, “but you don’t deserve to feel like this. No one does. And for what it’s worth, it says more about him than it ever will about you.”

His words hung in the air, a strange comfort in the midst of her pain. For the first time, Y/n felt like someone was truly hearing her, understanding her, without judgment or dismissal.

“You’re better than this,” Johnny added gently, his tone firm yet kind. “And you deserve better than what he’s giving you.”

Y/n sniffled, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, a small, fragile smile tugging at her lips.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but grateful.

Johnny leaned against the bar, his expression soft and reassuring as he grabbed a clean glass, filling it with water.

Setting it down in front of Y/n, he said, “Here. Drink this. It’ll help take the edge off.”

Y/n hesitated before taking the glass, her fingers brushing against his briefly. That small, unintentional touch felt warmer than she expected, grounding her amidst the chaos in her head.

Johnny opened his mouth to say more, but the faint sound of footsteps interrupted him. His coworker emerged from the back, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Hey, Johnny, take your ten. I’ll handle the bar,” he said with an easygoing nod toward the clock.

Johnny frowned, glancing from Y/n to his coworker. “I can take it later. It’s fine–”

“Nah, man, I got this,” his coworker insisted, stepping closer. “You look like you need the break more than I do.” His voice was light, but there was no mistaking the underlying encouragement.

Reluctantly, Johnny straightened, his gaze lingering on Y/n. “I’ll be back in a few,” he said softly, his tone laced with hesitation.

He didn’t want to leave her like this, not when she was so vulnerable, but there wasn’t much of a choice. Y/n gave him a faint nod, her fingers still wrapped around the glass of water. She watched as he moved to the back, his steps slow and deliberate, as if he were reluctant to put any distance between them.

As the door swung shut behind him, the bar felt emptier despite the presence of a few other patrons. Y/n stared at the water in front of her, Johnny’s kindness still lingering like an echo in her mind.

For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel entirely invisible. And though he was gone for now, she had a feeling he’d come back. Something about the way he looked at her, listened to her, it felt different. Genuine.

She took a sip of the water, the cold refreshing her throat and steadying her breaths.

Even though Johnny had made her feel seen, appreciated, even, she still felt the heavy weight of years of emotional neglect pressing down on her chest. One conversation wasn’t going to fix that.

She looked up at the new bartender, her voice quiet but resolute. “Just…give me some random shots. I don’t care what they are.”

Johnny stepped back into the bar after his ten-minute break, running a hand through his hair as he scanned the room. His eyes landed on the girl, slumped over the counter with tear-streaked cheeks, her head cradled in her hands. Surrounding her were a cluster of empty shot glasses, ones he didn’t serve her.

His jaw tightened, and a wave of frustration surged through him. Striding over to his coworker, who was wiping down glasses behind the bar, Johnny’s voice was low but laced with anger.

“What the fuck, man?” Johnny hissed, gesturing toward Y/n. “What are you doing serving her more drinks, she’s wasted!”

The coworker shrugged, looking unbothered. “She asked for them. Didn’t seem like that big of a deal. She’s sitting down, not causing any trouble.”

Johnny’s glare sharpened. “It’s not about trouble. It’s about responsibility. You don’t just keep pouring for someone clearly out of it.”

Without waiting for a response, Johnny stepped away, grabbing a glass of water and heading straight for Y/n, his frustration giving way to concern as he bent slightly to meet her gaze.

"Hey, uh…girl," Johnny said softly, placing his hands gently on her shoulders in an attempt to steady her. "Look at me for a second."

Y/n slowly lifted her head, her eyes red and glassy, streaked with tears that refused to stop. Seeing the pain etched across her face, Johnny's heart sank. He wasn’t sure entirely what she had been through, but it was written all over her.

"Here, drink some water," Johnny urged, placing a glass in her trembling hand. She tried to grip it, but her fingers were unsteady, barely able to hold it without spilling.

Johnny sighed, his frustration fading into pure concern. He reached behind the counter and grabbed a bottle of water and a box of tissues, setting them down beside her.

"Alright," he said gently but firmly, standing up straight. "We’re getting you out of here. I’m ordering you an Uber."

As he helped her to her feet, she stumbled, her legs shaky beneath her. Tears continued to spill down her face, her sobs audible now.

"Here, hold these," Johnny said, handing her the water bottle and tissues.

He steadied her with a firm grip on her hips, guiding her toward the door. She leaned heavily against him, her body uncooperative as he carefully walked her outside.

Johnny settled her onto the edge of a low brick wall, ensuring she wouldn’t fall over anytime soon. Pulling out his phone, he opened the uber app and glanced back at her. "Okay, where do you live?"

"61…Thomson Cres…" Y/n slurred, her words barely coherent.

Johnny quickly entered the address and confirmed the ride. "Alright, it’ll be here in ten minutes," he said, turning back to her.

But before he could say more, Y/n suddenly pushed herself up from the wall, the water bottle and tissues slipping from her grasp. She stumbled toward the gutter and vomited.

"Shit," Johnny muttered, rushing to her side. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her securely to prevent her from falling forward.

"It’s okay," he said softly, keeping her upright while she continued. "Just get it out. I’ve got you."

When she finally stopped, Johnny grabbed the tissues from the ground, offering them to her with a steady hand. "Here. Clean yourself up a bit," he said, his voice calm despite the situation.

Y/n took the tissues weakly, her gaze unfocused but grateful. Her throat burned from the stomach acid and alcohol that made it’s way back up. Johnny stayed close, his presence a quiet reassurance as he looked over her.

Johnny sighed deeply, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down at the girl leaning heavily against him. Her face was etched with exhaustion and sadness, and her trembling body felt so fragile in his arms. He couldn't shake the thought of her alone in an Uber, her head slumped against the window, or worse, passing out as she tried to stumble out of the car. The idea made his chest tighten.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenching.

Pulling out his phone, Johnny canceled the Uber with a few quick taps. He glanced down at her, her glazed-over eyes barely registering her surroundings. "I’m driving you home, okay?" he said firmly.

She gave the faintest nod, but he wasn’t sure she even understood. Still, it was enough for him.

"Alright, come on," he said softly, steadying her as he guided her toward the employee parking lot. She leaned against him, her steps uneven and sluggish.

Johnny unlocked his car, the soft beep echoing in the quiet night. He opened the passenger door and carefully helped her inside, easing her into the seat and buckling the seatbelt securely over her.

"Stay still," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of her face before shutting the door.

Rushing around to the driver’s side, he slid into the seat and pulled up his phone’s GPS, quickly entering her address. With a deep breath, he started the engine and eased out of the parking lot.

The road stretched out in front of them, the steady rhythm of the rain tapping against the windshield. Johnny stole a glance at the girl slumped in the passenger seat, her head resting against the window, her tears streaked down her face.

What the hell was he doing? He was supposed to call an Uber, let someone else take responsibility, and get back to work. But here he was, driving a stranger home in the middle of his shift.

He sighed again, his grip tightening on the wheel. She looked so young, so vulnerable, and so damn broken. He couldn’t just leave her like that. Not when she needed someone to look out for her.

“I’ll get you home safe,” he muttered quietly, more to himself than her, as the dim glow of streetlights passed by.

He didn’t know this girl, didn’t even know her name, but in this moment, it didn’t matter. She was in his care now, and he wasn’t about to let her down.

About ten minutes into the drive, Y/n started to stir, her body shifting slightly as she sat up straighter in the passenger seat. Her eyes blinked a few times, as if trying to adjust to her surroundings. She glanced out the window, taking in the passing streetlights and the quiet night air.

Johnny noticed the change immediately. He slowed the car slightly and reached into the cup holder, grabbing the bottle of water he had set there earlier.

“Here,” he said gently, offering it to her. “Drink some water.”

Y/n’s hands were still a little shaky, but she took the bottle, unscrewing the cap and drinking slowly, as though it was the first time in years that she’d had anything to hydrate her.

As she lowered the bottle, Johnny glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “We’re about eight minutes out from your place. How you feeling?”

She paused for a moment, the words seeming to process slowly. “Uh…a bit better,” she replied, her voice hoarse but softer now. “Letting it out helped.”

A small, quiet smile tugged at the corner of Johnny’s mouth, though it was fleeting. "That’s good to hear," he said, his tone warm but steady.

He kept his eyes on the road, but the sound of her voice, less distant than before, felt like a small victory. There was something in the way she spoke now, a slight shift from the wall of emotion she’d been wrapped in earlier.

Johnny didn’t know how much of it was the alcohol wearing off or just her finally starting to feel a little less like she was drowning in her own thoughts. But whatever it was, it was a good sign. He would get her home, get her somewhere safe, and maybe, just maybe, help her piece a little of this night back together.

The drive continued in a silence that wasn’t as heavy as before. Y/n still seemed distant, her eyes lost in thought, but there was a slight relaxation in her posture now.

Johnny’s eyes kept flickering to her, though he tried to keep his focus on the road. So broken yet somehow still here, he couldn’t help but feel responsible for getting her through this night.

The streetlights flickered as they drove through quieter parts of town, and Johnny’s fingers tapped absently on the steering wheel. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, whether she even wanted to talk more, or if she just needed the space.

He tried to gauge her mood, but her silence wasn’t closed off like before. It felt more like a pause, as though she was gathering her thoughts.

After a few moments, Y/n finally spoke again, her voice softer than before. “I don’t know what to say to him anymore.” Her words were almost a whisper, but Johnny could hear the weight of them in the quiet of the car.

“Your dad?” Johnny asked, glancing over at her quickly.

She nodded, her hand resting limply on her lap. “Yeah. He…he just doesn’t care. Every time I try to talk to him, it’s like I’m invisible to him. Or worse, I’m a nuisance.”

She let out a shaky sigh, her eyes drifting down to the seatbelt over her lap. “I don’t know what else to do. I don’t even know if I want to anymore.”

Johnny’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his thoughts swirling. The frustration was clear in her voice, the hurt that had built up over years of being ignored. It hit him harder than he expected. Too close to home.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, more to himself than her. “That’s…that’s really tough.”

Y/n’s head drooped slightly, but she let out a small laugh, more of a bitter chuckle. “Tough? Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Johnny didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t need to say anything else. The moment was heavy with her pain, and she didn’t need empty reassurances.

She needed someone who was there, who would listen, who wouldn’t leave when it got too much.

As the car pulled closer to her place, the street signs growing familiar to her, Johnny glanced at her once more, catching her tired eyes.

“I’m still here, kinda..” He chuckled. “You don’t have to be alone right now.”

Y/n didn’t respond right away, but her lips trembled as though she was fighting another wave of emotion. Her eyes stayed on him for a moment before she glanced out the window again.

The car came to a stop as they neared her apartment complex, and Johnny turned off the engine, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

“Alright,” he said, turning to face her. “We’re here. I’ll walk you up.”

She didn’t protest, just nodded faintly, and Johnny got out, coming around to open her door. He helped her out gently, careful not to jar her.

With the night still heavy around them, they made their way to her front door in silence. When they reached the door, Johnny stood back a little, giving her space.

Johnny watched as Y/n stepped up to her door, her movements slow but steady, a quiet strength in her despite the rawness of everything she’d just shared.

He stood there, waiting for her to turn back or say something more, but she simply gave him a faint nod. The weight of the night was still heavy on both of them, but there was an unspoken understanding between them now.

“Well, this is it,” Johnny said, his voice soft but clear.

Y/n turned to face him, her eyes still a little red, but there was something different there, a quiet gratitude, perhaps.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice shaky but sincere. “For everything. Really.”

Johnny gave a small nod, unsure of what else to say. “You’re welcome. Just…take care of yourself, alright?”

“I will,” she promised, the words hanging in the air between them for a moment.

Without another word, Y/n stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her. Johnny stood there for a moment longer, his eyes on the door, his thoughts a swirl of uncertainty.

He’d done what he could, even though he hadn’t known her, even though she probably wouldn’t remember him tomorrow. But for tonight, he had been there when she needed someone, and that was enough.

With a sigh, Johnny turned and made his way back to his car, the night settling in around him as he drove off into the quiet of the city, the weight of the evening slowly fading.

Waking up was pure agony. Y/n cracked her eyes open, only to groan and squeeze them shut again as the light streaming through her curtains sent a sharp throb through her skull. She felt like her brain was trying to jump out of her head, and her stomach rolled uneasily in protest.

“How much did I even drink?” she mumbled, her voice hoarse. She pressed the heels of her hands against her temples, as if that might somehow stop the pounding.

The idea of moving seemed impossible, but the gurgling emptiness in her stomach reminded her she needed something to keep from feeling like complete death. She reached blindly for her phone on the bedside table, her fingers fumbling before finally grabbing hold of it.

With a deep sigh, Y/n pressed her best friend's contact. The line barely rang before Yangyang's cheerful voice answered, far too bright for her current state.

“Hi hi!” he chirped, oblivious to her suffering.

“Yangyang,” Y/n groaned, her face half-buried in her pillow. “Can you pick me up some chicken and chips or something?”

“Lazy ass,” he teased, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Hungover, actually,” she muttered, her words muffled by the pillow.

There was a dramatic gasp on the other end of the line. “What!? You went drinking without me? How dare you!”

“Yangyang,” she said, her tone deadpan. “We’ll talk about it when you get here.”

“Who said I’m even coming?” he shot back indignantly. “I didn’t agree to–”

“Thanks, bye,” Y/n cut him off, hanging up before he could finish.

Dropping the phone back onto the table, she let out a heavy sigh. Yangyang would come. He always did, no matter how much he pretended to complain. For now, all she had to do was survive until he showed up with her greasy hangover cure.

It wasn’t long before Y/n’s phone buzzed with a text from Yangyang, "I’m at the door."

She groaned, typing back, "Use the spare key."

A moment later, she heard the familiar click of her door unlocking and footsteps echoing through the apartment.

“Can’t even open a door for me!” Yangyang shouted sarcastically from downstairs, his voice dripping with mock offence.

A faint smirk tugged at Y/n’s lips, but she didn’t bother to respond. Moments later, Yangyang appeared in her doorway, shaking his head when he saw her sprawled face-down on the bed.

“Hell, not taking the hangover well, I see,” he said, dropping his bag onto the floor and walking over.

“Did you bring my food?” Y/n mumbled, her voice muffled against the mattress.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yangyang said with a roll of his eyes. He sat on the other side of her bed, setting the plastic bag beside her.

Summoning whatever energy she had left, Y/n uncomfortably shifted to sit up, her hair a mess and her face still etched with exhaustion. She reached for the bag, pulling out the box of chicken and chips like it was gold.

“God fucking bless you,” she muttered, grabbing a chip and popping it into her mouth.

Yangyang smirked, leaning back against the headboard. “So…what happened?” he asked casually, but his tone was tinged with concern.

Y/n paused, her hand hovering over the box for another chip. “Dad and I went out for dinner last night,” she started, her voice bitter. “But he was being a dick the whole time, saying how I should be grateful and how he didn’t even want to be there.”

Yangyang’s expression darkened. “Your dad’s an asshole. Seriously, fuck him,” he said, reaching over to steal a chip from her box. “Is he at work?”

“Yeah…” Y/n said softly, chewing on another fry. “So, after that disaster of a dinner, I went out.”

Yangyang raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Out where?”

“A bar. Just…needed to forget about it, I guess,” Y/n admitted, shrugging as if it was no big deal, though the memory made her chest tighten.

“That’s why you shouldn’t be doing that shit without me, anything could happen,” Yangyang said.

“Yeah, like making a complete fool of myself.” Y/n said.

“Oh no, what happened?” Yangyang asked.

“The poor bartender. I had a bunch of shots and started crying. Then he asked me if I wanted to talk about it, and I blurted out my daddy issues to him. And then vomited…” Y/n said.

Yangyang couldn't help but snicker a little.

“Shut up,” Y/n kicked him.

“Man, what a bad bartender though, serving you to the point of vomiting.” Yangyang said.

“No, no,” Y/n said, waving a hand. “It wasn’t him. It was the other bartender. Kept serving me when I clearly shouldn’t have been drinking anymore. He was really cool actually.”

“Cause he listened?” Yangyang Asked.

“Yeah, but…he also said a lot of encouraging things and…fuck, he drove me home,” Y/n just recalled.

“...Are you serious?” Yangyang asked.

“Yeah…oh my god, that poor man,” Y/n couldn't believe herself.

“He wasn't weird, was he?” Yangyang asked.

“No…he was an absolute fucking gentleman.” Y/n was looking into space.

Yangyang leaned back, crossing his arms. “Damn. Well, that’s good then. You’re lucky you had someone.”

“Maybe,” Y/n muttered, looking down at her food. “But I’m never going back to that bar again.”

Yangyang chuckled, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Probably a good idea. But hey, look at the bright side! At least you’ve got me to cure your hangover with food and moral support.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her face. “Thanks, Yangyang. You’re alright.”

“Alright? Excuse me, I’m amazing,” he said with mock indignation, reaching over to steal another chip. “And don’t you forget it.”

Y/n shook her head, popping another chip into her mouth.

“Just make sure not to drink without me next time, okay? You won’t always have a super nice bartender like that again,” Yangyang said, pointing at her with a chip.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” Y/n replied, waving her hand dismissively. “I still can’t believe how incredibly nice that man was…”

Yangyang tilted his head, urging her to keep talking.

“He…he actually listened to me. Like, all of it. And then he told me I deserved better,” Y/n said, her voice softening as she recalled the memory.

“He even held me so I didn’t fall in my own vomit–Oh my god!” Her eyes widened in horror. “I vomited in front of him! I can never go back there again!” She buried her face in her hands, groaning in embarrassment.

Yangyang burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “He deserves a damn trophy for that, not just tips!”

Y/n peeked out from behind her hands, her cheeks still flushed. “Seriously, though. Who does that? Like, he didn’t have to care that much.”

“He sounds like some kind of bartender superhero,” Yangyang teased, nudging her with his elbow. “Are you sure you didn’t dream the whole thing?”

Y/n ignored him, her gaze drifting as she stared into space. The events of the night before replayed in her mind. The way the bartender, Johnny, was it? had gone out of his way to keep her safe, listening to her as she cried like a broken record. And he wasn’t just nice, he was handsome. So incredibly handsome, even in her drunken haze, she’d noticed.

“Don’t start going loopy on me!” Yangyang said, snapping his fingers in front of her face and giving her a light shake.

“I’m not going loopy!” Y/n snapped back, shoving him playfully. “I just…I guess I didn’t expect someone to be that kind, you know?”

“Well, enjoy the memory,” Yangyang said with a grin. “But remember, the next time you cry to a stranger, I’m the one who’s supposed to be there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/n muttered, but a small smile tugged at her lips. Even though she’d sworn never to return to that bar, part of her couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever see the kind stranger again.

Not even a week later, Y/n found herself back at the same bar she had sworn to avoid. After the humiliation of that night, she never intended to return, but life had other plans. A heated argument with her dad over something stupid, like not remembering the shit-ass instructions he’d given her for a chore, had driven her out of the house. She couldn’t bear to stay under the same roof with him, not while his anger still hung in the air like a storm cloud.

The bar was busier this time, which made sense, it was a Friday night, and the place was alive with chatter and the clinking of glasses. Y/n weaved through the crowd, her emotions raw and unfiltered. Reaching the bar, she didn’t bother to check the menu.

“Two jugs of whatever you’ve got,” she told the bartender, her voice clipped.

The man behind the bar was the other bartender from the previous night, the one who had let her spiral. Y/n recognized him immediately. Despite her mixed feelings, she knew he’d get the job done, and tonight she didn’t care about much else.

She grabbed her drinks and a clean shot glass and headed for a secluded booth in the corner, where she could wallow in peace.

Sliding into the seat, she set the jugs down and poured herself a shot. The amber liquid gleamed under the dim lights as she stared at it for a moment, her thoughts swirling. With a sigh, she downed the shot in one go, wincing as it burned its way down her throat.

Y/n poured another, her hands steady despite the whirlwind in her chest. She didn’t want to think about her dad, about his sharp words and how they always seemed to cut deeper than she’d like to admit. She didn’t want to think about anything at all.

Instead, she focused on the shot glass, the way the liquid filled it perfectly, the way it gleamed, though she knew better than to expect anything good from alcohol. As she tipped back her second shot.

Johnny showed up to work at 7, exactly on the dot. His shift had started, and he wasted no time getting behind the bar, washing his hands and preparing for the night ahead. The sound of glasses and hum of conversation filled the air, but his focus was on the routine, until his coworker spoke up.

“Hey, the girl from the other night’s back…”

Johnny froze for a split second. “What?” His voice was low, and though he shouldn’t have reacted so quickly, he knew exactly who his coworker was talking about.

“In the corner,” his coworker nodded toward the far side of the bar, where the booths sat in shadow. “Looks like she's having another go at it.”

Johnny wiped his hands on a towel and stepped out from behind the bar. He didn’t have a plan as he made his way across the room, weaving through the patrons. All he knew was that he needed to check on her.

The girl was there, just as his coworker had said, slumped forward, her elbows resting on the table, her face barely visible in the dim light. She looked the same, but something in the way she sat, so still and alone, hit Johnny harder than he expected.

He hesitated for a moment, standing in the middle of the bar, but then he exhaled, bracing himself. There was no going back now. Without another glance toward the counter, he walked over to her, his mind torn between wanting to offer help and not overstepping the boundaries of a stranger’s night.

When he finally reached her table, he paused, just for a second, before speaking.

"You back again?" His voice was softer than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. There was something about her that made him feel protective, even though he barely knew her.

The look she gave him nearly shattered Johnny’s heart. Her red, watery eyes and the quiet sorrow etched into her face were too much to ignore.

“Mind if I sit?” Johnny asked gently, keeping his voice low to avoid adding to her obvious discomfort.

She sniffled, her gaze falling back to the table. After a moment, she gave a small nod. “Go for it.”

Sliding into the booth across from her, Johnny rested his arms on the table and leaned in slightly. “Want to talk about it?” he asked, his tone hesitant but genuine.

Y/n shook her head, barely meeting his gaze. “I shouldn’t bother you.”

Johnny sighed, leaning back in his seat. “You’re not a bother. You shouldn’t have to feel that way.”

“But I do,” Y/n admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“And drinking’s not going to fix it,” Johnny said, his tone firm. “We both know how that turned out the other night.”

Her lips twitched into a fleeting, humorless smile as she glanced at him, but the weight of her emotions quickly pulled her gaze away. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him for long, especially not with her tear-streaked face. It was humiliating enough to be caught in this state, let alone by someone as handsome as him.

Johnny leaned forward again, his elbows resting on the table as he studied her. “Look, I’m not here to lecture you. I just...I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Y/n swallowed hard, still avoiding his eyes. “Why do you care?”

He hesitated, then answered honestly, “Because someone should. And it seems like not enough people do.”

Those words caught her off guard, and for a moment, the tightness in her chest loosened. She risked another glance at him, and the sincerity in his eyes almost made her cry all over again.

“You clearly need someone,” Johnny said, his voice steady yet compassionate. “I don’t doubt you have friends, but it feels like there’s something missing in your life right now. I’m guessing it has something to do with your dad.”

Y/n blinked, startled by how bluntly he’d addressed the issue. She wasn’t sure if it was his confidence or his calm demeanor, but his directness didn’t feel invasive, it felt...honest.

“I’m not asking for your life story,” Johnny continued, leaning back slightly to give her space. “But if you’re comfortable, I’m here. Whatever you need to get off your chest, I’m willing to listen.”

His words hung in the air, offering an openness she wasn’t used to. Y/n hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the napkin in front of her. “Why would you even want to listen to me? I’m just some random drunk girl who ruined your night the other day.”

Johnny chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You didn’t ruin anything. And you’re not just some random girl. You’re a person who’s clearly going through a lot. If I can help, even just by listening, then why wouldn’t I?”

Y/n stared at the napkin for a moment longer before taking a deep breath. “Yeah…It’s my dad,” she admitted quietly. “He’s...impossible to please. No matter what I do, it’s not enough. And he doesn’t even try to hide how much he resents me.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she clenched her jaw, trying to keep the tears at bay. Johnny’s expression softened, his eyes filled with an empathy that made her chest ache.

“You don’t deserve that,” Johnny said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You deserve a parent that cares about you.”

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not,” Johnny admitted. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true. And it doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.”

For the first time in a long while, Y/n felt a small flicker of hope. It wasn’t much, but sitting across from someone who seemed to care, even a little, made her feel less like she was drowning.

Johnny leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his gaze steady. “So...what brought you here tonight?”

Y/n let out a dry, bitter laugh. “It’s so stupid.”

“Doesn’t seem stupid if it’s got you feeling this way,” Johnny replied, his tone gentle but firm.

She sighed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “He asked me to clean the bathroom if I had time, so I did. I was almost finished when he got home…I thought maybe he’d say thank you or something...but instead, he yelled at me for using the wrong disinfectant.”

Her voice wavered as her eyes filled with tears, the memory cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. “I didn’t think it would be a problem. I used the one I always used…the one I would see my Mum use.” Her voice cracked, and she quickly looked down, embarrassed by the emotion bubbling up.

Johnny shook his head, his expression darkening with quiet disapproval. “That’s not on you. You did what he asked, and he shouldn’t be yelling at you over something so small.”

Y/n already knew that, but hearing it from someone else, a stranger, even, felt oddly validating. “I guess,” she murmured, wiping at her eyes. “But it’s just...always like this. No matter what I do, it’s never right.”

Johnny tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing in concern. “That’s not fair to you. You don’t deserve to feel like this. Like nothing you do matters.”

She bit her lip, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “It’s hard to explain. I just…I feel like I’m always walking on eggshells with him. Trying not to mess up. And when I do, it’s like...it’s the end of the world to him.”

Johnny’s voice softened, a warmth in his tone that caught her off guard. “That’s not your burden to carry, Y/n. Parents are supposed to guide you, not tear you down over things that don’t even matter.”

His words struck a chord deep within her, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a small sense of relief. Yeah, she told this kind of thing to Yangyang all the time, but it was just different this time.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I’m dumping all of this on you.”

“Because you needed to,” Johnny said simply, offering her a small smile. “And honestly? I’m glad you did. You deserve to be heard.”

Y/n met his gaze, and for a moment, the weight of her father’s criticism felt just a little lighter. “You’re a lot nicer than you need to be, you know that?”

Johnny chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Maybe. But sometimes, people just need someone to remind them that they matter.”

Y/n leaned back in her seat, trying to take a deep breath and compose herself. She sniffled lightly and rubbed her hands over her cheeks, as if wiping away the lingering traces of her tears could also erase the heaviness in her chest.

“God, I must look like such a mess right now,” she muttered with a weak laugh.

Johnny leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he chuckled softly. “You’re fine. Trust me, I’ve seen much worse at this bar. You’re nowhere near the top of the ‘messiest customer’ list.”

Y/n gave him a small smile, letting out a soft laugh. “Gee, that makes me feel better.”

“I’m just saying,” Johnny said, a teasing grin playing on his lips. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

The corners of her mouth lifted just a little more, and she sighed, a faint air of relief settling over her. “I guess I should try to, like...relax or something. Let the night go.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Johnny said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re here now, may as well try to enjoy the moment.”

They fell into an easier rhythm, Johnny steering the conversation to lighter topics, a funny story about a drunken regular, a joke about the bar’s overly long drink names. Y/n found herself laughing despite everything, the tension in her shoulders easing bit by bit.

As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, Y/n glanced at the clock, realising how late it had gotten. She let out a small sigh, the weight of the day finally starting to catch up to her.

“Guess I should head off,” she murmured, standing up and gathering her things.

Johnny noticed and immediately stood up as well. “Need a ride?” he asked, his tone casual.

Y/n shook her head with a smile. “Nah, I’m good tonight. I’m gonna message my friend to pick me up.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Alright. Well, I’ll wait with you until they get here.”

She looked at him, surprised by his willingness to stay. “You don’t have to, but thanks. I really appreciate it.”

“Anything for you,” Johnny said with a grin, before he leaned back against the booth and folded his arms casually. “Besides, you’re not alone here anymore. I’m happy to keep you company for a bit longer.”

Y/n smiled, feeling a warm gratitude welling up inside her. “Thanks, Johnny. I really do appreciate everything you did for me the other night. I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly, and I...I just wanted to make sure you know that.”

Johnny chuckled softly. “No need to thank me. It’s just what anyone would do.”

“But still,” Y/n insisted, her voice quieter now. “You went out of your way to make sure I was okay. That’s more than just being a ‘good bartender.’”

She paused, suddenly realising something. “Wait a minute...I never even told you my name.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Shit!” Y/n gave a sheepish laugh. “Guess I got caught up in everything...I’m Y/n, by the way.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Y/n,” Johnny said with a friendly grin, then gestured to the name tag on his chest. “I’m guessing that makes me Johnny.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Y/n said with a soft laugh, feeling the tension in her chest ease just a little more. She paused, then looked up at him. “Hey, I just...I really want to thank you for being there for me, Johnny. For listening. For everything.”

Johnny’s smile softened as he leaned forward slightly. “You don’t have to keep thanking me. But, listen, if you ever need someone to talk to again, I’m here every Monday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Same hours. Same bar. You’ve got someone to listen, anytime.”

Y/n studied him, her brow furrowing slightly. There was something about the way he said it, so easy, so genuine, that made her pause. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was a depth in his words that felt like he was offering more than just a listening ear. It wasn’t the first time she’d sensed something in his tone, a quiet kind of care he didn’t seem to show to just anyone.

But she chose not to ask. Instead, she gave him a soft, grateful smile. “Thanks, Johnny. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He nodded, his grin returning. “Anytime, Y/n. Seriously. Don’t hesitate, alright?”

As Johnny stood with her, she couldn’t help but feel a small sense of comfort. She wasn’t entirely sure why Johnny cared so much, but for tonight, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel completely alone.

And that was enough.

The moment the door to the bar swung open, Y/n looked up and saw Yangyang storming in, his expression a mix of concern and irritation. He was exactly on time.

Yangyang’s eyes scanned the room, locking onto her in the corner. His brows furrowed when he saw her, still standing with Johnny. Without another word, he made a beeline for her, pushing through the crowd of people as if they were obstacles in his way.

“Let’s go,” Yangyang said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument as he reached the booth.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t even had time to properly say goodbye to Johnny before Yangyang was already tugging at her arm, pulling her to her feet. Johnny looked up at the sudden movement, his smile still soft, but there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as Y/n scrambled to gather her things.

“Yangyang!” she started, turning back to Johnny with a quick wave. “Thanks again, really...I’ll–”

“Come on, Y/n,” Yangyang interrupted, his grip tightening on her arm as he pulled her toward the door. His tone softened slightly, but his worry was still evident. “Let’s go. I’m not leaving you here with...whoever,” he added, glancing at Johnny.

Y/n barely had time to give Johnny another smile, her mind too scrambled to say much more than, “Sorry, I...I’ll see you later.”

Before Johnny could respond, Yangyang was already dragging her outside, his steps quick and forceful as he moved toward the car parked at the curb. Y/n could barely keep up, still lost in the warm afterglow of the conversation with Johnny. She felt guilty, but Yangyang wasn’t giving her a moment to explain herself.

“Seriously, what were you thinking?” Yangyang huffed as they reached the car. “You said you’d never go back or drink without me, and you’re just sitting there with some random guy?”

Y/n let out a deep sigh as the car hummed steadily down the street. She glanced over at Yangyang, trying to gather her thoughts after the whirlwind of emotions she’d just experienced at the bar.

Y/n winced, “The guy I was talking to at the bar the other night...that was him. The bartender, Johnny.”

Yangyang’s grip on the steering wheel tightened ever so slightly, and Y/n noticed the way his jaw clenched.

“You were talking to him again?” His voice was tight, his concern clear but mixed with a hint of frustration.

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, looking out the window. “He’s...he’s actually really nice. I don’t know, I just...I needed someone to listen to me, Yangyang. And he did. It was good.”

Yangyang shook his head, his tone firm. “Y/n, you can’t just be confiding in some random man like that. I don’t care how nice he seems, he’s still a strange man. You can’t trust him so easily, no matter how much he listens.”

Y/n frowned, her thoughts spinning. “But...I don’t think he’s like that. He’s not just some random guy. He’s a very nice man.”

Yangyang glanced at her, his eyes narrowed with skepticism. “Very nice man? Y/n, older guys like that don’t just give a shit about you. They have their own reasons for pretending to care. It’s not like he’s gonna take on the role of some personal therapist just for fun. You can’t let that happen.”

Y/n felt a chill run down her spine at his words, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She hadn’t considered it that way, but Yangyang’s perspective was making her second-guess her own. Was she being naive? Was she trusting him too easily?

Before she could voice her doubts, Yangyang spoke again, his voice lower, more intense. “And you weren’t supposed to be drinking without me either. You know that’s dangerous. I told you I’d be there if you needed to talk, if you needed to unwind, but not like this. You could have really hurt yourself, Y/n.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and Y/n could feel the sting of guilt creeping in. She hadn’t thought about how reckless she’d been, too caught up in the moment and the comfort Johnny had provided. Yangyang was right, he had warned her, and she had ignored it.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her voice small. “I didn’t mean to make you worry like that.”

Yangyang softened, glancing at her with a hint of exasperation but also something else, care. “I’m not mad, Y/n. I just want you to be safe. You don’t need to be doing stuff like that, especially not when you’ve got people who care about you, people like me.”

Y/n didn’t respond immediately, her mind still processing everything. She didn’t want to admit it, but Yangyang’s words made sense. She couldn’t just go around opening up to every man who listened. Not all of them had good intentions.

“I know, Yangyang,” she said finally, her voice more resigned now. “I’ll be more careful next time. I just...I don’t know. Sometimes, it feels like I’m drowning, and when someone actually listens, it’s...it’s a relief.”

Yangyang exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. I really do. But you don’t have to be drowning, Y/n. Come to me, yeah?”

Y/n nodded, feeling a little lighter but still conflicted. She appreciated Yangyang’s concern, but part of her couldn’t shake the connection she’d felt with Johnny, the way he had listened without judgment.

But for now, all she could do was trust Yangyang.

As the car rolled through the quiet streets, Y/n sat in silence for a few moments, her thoughts swirling around like a storm in her mind. The weight of the night was still pressing down on her, and the thought of returning to the tenseness of her house felt unbearable. She couldn't go back to that place, not tonight, not after everything that had happened.

Finally, she spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yangyang...can I come to your place tonight?”

Yangyang glanced at her, surprise flickering in his eyes before it softened. “You don’t want to go home?” he asked gently.

Y/n shook her head, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “No. I...I can’t go back there. It feels like everything’s just too much.”

He nodded, his expression softening as he slowed the car down. “Of course, you can stay with me. I’m not going to let you be go there if you’re not ready for that.”

Y/n let out a sigh of relief, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease a little. “Thank you, Yangyang,” she said, her voice quiet but filled with gratitude. “I just...I don’t want to deal with it right now. I just want to be somewhere I feel safe.”

“You’re always safe with me,” Yangyang replied, his voice steady and reassuring. He reached over and squeezed her hand for a moment before turning his focus back to the road. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

Y/n nodded, her chest tightening but also loosening at the same time. She was grateful for him, for his care, for being someone she could lean on when everything felt like too much. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The drive felt shorter than it was, and soon enough they were pulling up to his place. Yangyang’s place was a two-story flat he shared with a couple of other people, though Y/n only really hung out with them at parties. Never had time to talk with them properly, usually heading straight to Yangyang’s room, just like now.

As Yangyang parked the car, he turned to her with a small smile. “Come on. Let’s get you inside. You can rest, and we’ll figure everything out tomorrow, alright?”

Y/n gave him a soft smile back, as they made their way to his room.

As Y/n lay on the bed at Yangyang's place later that night, her mind wandered back to the bar. She knew she shouldn't have gone back. There was something about the bartender, Johnny, that had pulled her in. It was almost magnetic, like an invisible thread tying her to him, and no matter how hard she tried to deny it, she couldn’t escape it.

What made it even more complicated was how he made her feel. He didn’t look at her like she was a burden, like she was just another person to deal with. Johnny treated her with a kind of maturity, respect, and care that she hadn’t known in a long time.

It was in the way he listened without judgment, how he noticed the small things that everyone else overlooked, like the subtle tremor in her voice or the way her eyes would wander when the silence stretched too long. He didn’t rush her, didn’t push her to talk, but when she did, he made her feel like her words mattered.

It stood in such sharp contrast to the way her father treated her, the way he always seemed so distant, so preoccupied, never really seeing her, never really hearing her. Y/n had spent so much time trying to please him, trying to earn a sliver of his attention, but nothing ever worked. No matter how hard she tried, there was always something wrong.

Tonight, after the argument, she'd felt it again, the suffocating loneliness of it, the emptiness that came with his neglect. But Johnny...Johnny made her feel seen in a way she hadn't in years. It was as if he could sense the pain beneath her exterior, and instead of turning away, he leaned in, offering her a space to just be. No one had done that for her, not in a long time.

And she knew it was dangerous to let herself get attached to that. She barely knew him. Their interactions were brief, and yet there was something about the way he carried himself, the way his smile reached his eyes, that made her heart do strange things.

He wasn’t just some random guy, but a man who had his own life, his own set of experiences. He wasn’t supposed to be her safe space, not really. But in those moments they shared, when he looked at her with that quiet understanding, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

Y/n closed her eyes, her thoughts swirling with conflicting emotions. She shouldn't let herself get too caught up in this. She couldn’t. But the way he listened, the way he cared, it made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she was worthy of being seen. It was something she didn’t even know she craved until it was given to her.

The feelings she had were complicated, tangled with guilt and hope, but in that moment, with the soft hum of Yangyang’s home around her, Y/n allowed herself to believe for a second that she might deserve this kind of kindness. Just for tonight, she could rest in the warmth of it, before the world outside reminded her of everything else she had to face.

The next day, Y/n found herself standing in front of the bar once again. It was a little after 7, and the familiar sound of activity inside felt different this time. Her heart was racing a little, nerves creeping up in the back of her mind. She had told herself that she shouldn’t come back, that it was probably a bad idea to get involved in something she didn’t fully understand.

But something about it, about him, kept pulling her in.

With a deep breath, she pushed open the door. The bar was just as lively as it had been the night before, but this time, Y/n’s focus was entirely on the bartender. She could see Johnny behind the counter, effortlessly moving between serving customers, his posture relaxed but efficient. She took a moment to watch him as he worked, the way he interacted with people, his warm smile never faltering.

A little self-conscious, Y/n made her way up to the bar, her footsteps steady but uncertain. She took a seat on one of the stools, smoothing down the hem of her jacket as she settled in, trying to calm the fluttering in her chest.

Johnny’s gaze lifted from the drink he was preparing, his eyes locking with hers for just a moment before he gave her a small, surprised smile. His expression softened, and he wiped his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder before walking over to her.

“Hey, you’re back,” he greeted her, his voice warm and genuine.

Y/n gave a slight nod, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, sorry. I figured I’d come by again.”

Johnny chuckled lightly, leaning against the bar with an easy familiarity. “You don’t have to apologize for showing up, you know. You’re welcome here anytime.”

Y/n’s nerves eased a little at his words, and she tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling the weight of her decision settle in. “Thanks,” she said, her voice quieter this time.

“So,” Johnny began, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her. “What can I get you tonight? Hopefully not the usual?”

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. “Actually, I think I’ll just have fizzy tonight.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow, amused. “Soda? Wow, a change of pace.” He paused, giving her a knowing smile. “I guess I’ll take that as a sign you’re taking it easy tonight.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh softly, her tension slowly melting away as she felt more at ease. “Yeah, probably for the best.”

Johnny nodded and grabbed a clean glass, filling it with water before sliding it in front of her. "So, what brings you back this time? Everything okay?"

Y/n looked up at him, the faintest hint of hesitation in her gaze before she spoke. "I just wanted to thank you properly...for last night…and Monday night. I didn’t really get the chance to, and I felt like I should."

Johnny's smile softened, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice quieter now. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you had someone to talk to. Sometimes that’s all we really need.”

For a moment, the noise of the bar seemed to fade away, and Y/n felt a brief but genuine connection with him. It was strange, how in just a few brief conversations, he had become someone she could turn to when everything else felt uncertain.

"Well," Y/n said, feeling a little bolder, "I’m glad I came back."

Johnny met her eyes, his gaze steady and warm. “Me too.”

Johnny returned to the bar, grabbing a dry lemonade from the shelf before placing it in front of Y/n with a smile. "Here you go. Something a little sweeter this time, right?" he said, his tone light and friendly.

Y/n took the glass, offering him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Johnny."

He nodded, his eyes briefly meeting hers before turning his attention to another customer at the end of the bar.

"I’ll be right with you," he said before walking off to take their order, leaving Y/n to relax with her drink.

The moment was short-lived, however. As she sipped the lemonade, she felt someone standing beside her at the bar. She looked up to see a man, probably in his late twenties, leaning against the counter, an easy smile on his face.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice smooth but with an edge that made Y/n feel uneasy. "I saw you take a seat here just now. Mind if I ask your name?"

Y/n's smile faltered, a slight unease creeping up her spine. She didn't feel comfortable with this sudden attention, especially from someone she didn't know.

She quickly tried to deflect, tapping her fingers nervously against her glass. "Uh, I’m just here to relax. I’m not really looking to talk."

The man didn't seem to take the hint, though, stepping closer and continuing, “Oh come on, just a name? You from ‘round here?”

Y/n’s discomfort deepened as he pressed, crossing a line she wasn't ready to let him cross. She opened her mouth to decline again, but before she could say anything, a familiar voice cut through the conversation.

Johnny returned, wiping his hands on a rag and noticing the man standing too close to Y/n. Without missing a beat, he placed a hand on the counter, leaning in toward the guy.

“The little lady doesn’t want to talk to you,” Johnny said, his tone calm but firm, eyes cool as he sized up the man.

The stranger seemed to hesitate, taken aback by Johnny's sudden intervention. He gave Y/n a lingering look before backing off, muttering something under his breath as he walked away.

Y/n glanced at Johnny, her relief clear in her expression. "Thanks," she said softly, her voice still a little shaky.

Johnny gave her a small, reassuring smile, his posture relaxed. "No problem. You shouldn’t have to deal with people like that," he said, before turning to handle another customer.

As Johnny walked away, Y/n found her gaze lingering on him, her thoughts a jumble of confusion and warmth. She’d never had a guy, other than Yangyang, stand up for her like that. There was something so effortless about the way Johnny had handled the situation, like it wasn’t even a question that he’d step in to help her.

Her heart fluttered unexpectedly. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Feeling this way over something so simple, a few words, a protective gesture. But it wasn’t just the act itself, it was the way he’d done it. Calm, confident, and with an underlying care that felt genuine.

For a moment, she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to have someone like Johnny in her corner, someone who didn’t just look out for her because they felt obligated, but because they wanted to.

Y/n shook her head slightly, trying to push the thought away, but the faint warmth in her chest remained.

Her heart shouldn’t be reacting like this, not to someone she barely knew. Yet there it was, betraying her with every quickened beat.

Johnny returned a few moments later, leaning casually against the bar. His easy smile was back, directed right at her, making her heart flutter.

“So,” he began, his tone light and conversational, “get up to much today?”

The question caught Y/n off guard. It had been a while since someone had shown genuine interest in her day.

“Nah, not much,” she replied with a small shrug. “Just lectures and stuff.”

“Oh, studying, are you? What courses?” Johnny asked, his eyebrows lifting slightly in interest.

“Biochem and Stats,” Y/n said, a hint of pride in her tone.

Johnny let out a low whistle. “Impressive. And you actually enjoy that?”

Y/n laughed, the sound breaking through the tension she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying. “Not always,” she admitted, “but I’m pretty good at it.”

Johnny chuckled, a deep, warm sound that seemed to fill the space between them. “Being good at something doesn’t mean you have to like it, huh? I get that. But hey, Biochem and Stats? Sounds like you’ve got some serious brains.”

Y/n felt her cheeks flush slightly at the compliment, her smile turning shy. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Johnny tilted his head, giving her a playful, skeptical look. “Oh, I don’t know. I have a feeling you’re selling yourself short.”

Their conversation was interrupted briefly as Johnny reached over to grab a glass, ready to serve another customer. But even as he worked, Y/n noticed how his attention never fully left her, as if he was genuinely invested in their small talk. For the first time in a long while, she felt seen, and it was both unsettling and comforting all at once.

The night had quieted, the earlier buzz fading into a mellow hum. The bar was never completely still, but this was as close to peace as it got. Johnny leaned against the counter, his arms crossed casually as he listened to Y/n talk about one of her professors and other people with her lectures. She animated her stories with gestures, her earlier shyness fading as the minutes passed.

Johnny couldn’t help but smile as he watched her. He knew why she’d come back tonight. She hadn’t said it outright, but it was written all over her. She needed someone to talk to.

Someone who wouldn’t dismiss her feelings or turn her vulnerability into a weapon. Johnny was more than okay with being that person.

She was young, still figuring out who she was and how to navigate the parts of life that felt heavier than they should. Her strained relationship with her dad had left a gap in her life, the kind that only someone older, someone steady, could help fill.

She wasn’t looking for pity or solutions, she just needed someone to listen. Someone to treat her like her thoughts mattered.

He glanced at her as she laughed softly at something she’d said, her guard down in a way that felt rare. Johnny’s chest tightened with a protective instinct he hadn’t expected.

He’d seen people like her before, people who carried too much for their age, who needed a safe place to land, even if just for a moment.

He didn’t see her as a problem to solve or a burden to bear. She was just...someone who needed a little light, and he didn’t mind being that for her.

Johnny glanced at the clock on the wall, noting how the hours had slipped by. The bar had quieted even further, and the streetlights outside cast soft halos against the darkened windows. He turned back to Y/n, his expression softer now.

“It’s getting late,” he said gently. “You should think about heading home.”

Y/n blinked, the words pulling her out of their conversation. She glanced down at her phone, realizing how much time had passed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said, slipping her bag over her shoulder as she stood up.

As she pushed her stool back, Johnny’s voice stopped her. “You gonna call your friend again to come pick you up?”

She hesitated, her hand tightening slightly on the strap of her bag. “Um, no...not this time,” she admitted, her tone quieter now. “Yangyang didn’t really want me coming back here, so it’s probably best if I just walk home.”

Johnny frowned at that, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the bar. “Walk? At this hour?” He shook his head. “Mhmm, I don’t know, it’s a bit too late, don’t you think?”

Y/n shrugged, offering him a small, half-hearted smile. “It’s not a long walk, I’ll be fine.”

Johnny didn’t budge. “How about this…you hang out here for another hour while I finish up, and I’ll drive you home.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “You’d...drive me home?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s late, and I’d rather know you got home safe.”

Y/n stood there, her mind racing. She barely knew him, they’d talked a lot in the hours which she was in the bar, but this was...unexpected. Still, the thought of walking home alone in the dark didn’t seem so appealing now, and something about the sincerity in his voice made her feel like she could trust him, especially considering how he drove her home the other night.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice almost cautious. “I don’t want to be a pain or anything.”

Johnny waved a hand dismissively. “It’s no trouble. Besides, I’m not letting you walk home this late. So, sit back down and relax for a bit.”

She hesitated for a moment longer before nodding, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay...thank you, Johnny. Really.”

He returned her smile with an easy one of his own, nodding toward the stool she’d just left. “No problem.”

Y/n slid back onto the stool, her heart racing for reasons she didn’t entirely understand. Johnny turned back to the bar, tending to the few remaining customers, but she couldn’t stop glancing at him, still stunned by his offer. It wasn’t every day someone went out of their way for her like this, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. But for now, she was grateful.

As the hour ticked by, the bar emptied out, leaving only a couple of stragglers with their drinks in quiet corners. Johnny moved with practiced ease, wiping down the counter, stacking glasses, and tidying up behind the bar. His movements were efficient, but he didn’t rush, taking the time to nod politely to the last few patrons as they gathered their things and headed out into the night.

Y/n stayed seated, watching him work. The way he moved, so steady and calm, made her feel oddly at ease despite the situation. He caught her looking a couple of times and threw her a casual grin, making her cheeks warm as she glanced away.

Finally, Johnny flipped the sign on the door to ‘Closed’, locking it behind the last customer. He turned back to Y/n, brushing his hands off on a bar towel as he approached.

“Well, that’s it for tonight,” he said, setting the towel down. “You ready to go?”

She nodded, standing and adjusting her bag. “Yeah, thanks for taking me.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the hook behind the counter. “Let me just grab my keys, and we’ll head out.”

Y/n waited by the bar as Johnny disappeared into the back for a moment. When he returned, keys jingling in his hand, he gestured toward the door.

“Alright, let’s get you home,” he said, his tone warm but firm.

Y/n followed him out, stepping into the cool night air. The streets were quiet now, and the soft hum of the city lights felt almost serene. Johnny walked beside her to the small parking lot behind the bar, where an old but well-kept honda civic waited.

“Not exactly a luxury ride,” he joked as he unlocked the passenger door, holding it open for her. “But it’ll get you there.”

Y/n slid into the seat, her heart fluttering slightly at his gesture. “It got me home last time, I’m sure it’s perfect this time. Thank you.”

Johnny rounded the car and got in, starting the engine with a low rumble. As they pulled out onto the empty street, a sense of comfort ran through her.

“I’m surprised you remembered anything from last time. You were wasted!” Johnny said with a laugh, his voice light and teasing.

Y/n groaned, immediately covering her face with her hands. “God, don’t remind me! That was so embarrassing! I’m so sorry you had to deal with me while I was drunk.”

Johnny leaned back slightly, crossing his arms with an amused grin. “Ah, don’t feel too bad. At least you had the decency to vomit in a gutter instead of the bar floor.”

“Mortifying,” Y/n muttered, peeking at him through her fingers. “But sure, go ahead, keep laughing at my misery.”

“Oh, I will,” Johnny replied, his laughter bubbling up again.

Y/n couldn’t help but glance at him as he laughed, the sound warm and genuine. The way his cheeks lifted, the faint lines around his eyes deepening as they crinkled with amusement, it was mesmerizing. Johnny was beautiful, in a way she hadn’t fully registered until now.

His laughter softened, and he tilted his head slightly as he looked at her. “You know, you don’t have to be embarrassed. Everyone’s had a rough night now and then. You handled it better than most.”

“Better than most?” Y/n asked skeptically, lowering her hands.

“Trust me,” Johnny said, his grin widening, “I’ve seen it all. You’re far from the worst.”

She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “Well, that’s...somewhat comforting.”

“Glad to help,” Johnny said with a mock bow of his head, making her laugh this time.

Y/n tilted her head, as she leaned slightly towards Johnny. “Do you often drive patrons home…like you did with me?”

Johnny smirked, shaking his head. “Not a chance.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wait, really? You drove me home.”

Johnny shrugged casually, his hands on the wheel. “Let’s just say you didn’t strike me as someone who’d regularly find themselves in that kind of situation. And you looked...lost. Like you needed someone to step in.”

Y/n blinked, his words catching her off guard. “Oh. Well, I guess you were right,” she admitted quietly, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve.

Johnny looked over to her briefly before looking back on the road. “I’ve been bartending long enough to know the difference between someone who’s just drinking for the fuck of it and someone who’s looking for escape. You seemed like the latter.”

Her throat tightened slightly, and she gave a small nod. “Yeah...I guess I was.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Johnny added, his tone lightening. “Most of the time, my job ends at making drinks and cutting people off when they’ve had enough. But with you? I don’t know. I just felt you needed the help.”

Y/n bit her lip, unsure how to respond to that. She glanced at him, searching his expression for any hint of an ulterior motive, but all she saw was sincerity.

“That’s...really kind of you,” she said softly, offering him a faint smile.

Johnny chuckled. “Don’t give me too much credit. It’s not like I’m some saint. I just figured someone should make sure you got home safe.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at his humility, shaking her head. “Well, thanks. I guess I’m lucky you were the one working that night.”

Johnny tilted his head with a smirk. “Yeah, you are. And don’t forget it.”

Johnny's car came to a smooth stop outside Y/n’s house, the soft hum of the engine fading as he shifted into park. She stared out the window at the familiar house, her heart sinking slightly. She didn’t want to leave, not yet.

The warmth of Johnny’s presence beside her in the car, the comfort of his easy conversation, and the strange sense of safety she felt, it was all so different from what was inside the house, waiting for her.

She sighed, her hand hesitating on the door handle. “Well...thanks for the ride,” she murmured, her voice quieter than she intended.

“Anytime,” Johnny replied.

Y/n was just about to push the door open when Johnny’s voice stopped her. “Hold on a second.”

She turned back to him, surprised, as he reached up and pulled a pen from the overhead sunshade. Her heart skipped as he gently took her hand in his, his touch warm.

Johnny didn’t say anything as he leaned over slightly, his focus entirely on her hand as he wrote something carefully on her skin. Y/n’s mind blanked, her senses overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers lightly brushing against her palm.

It wasn’t until he let her go and she glanced down that she realized what he had done. His number was scrawled neatly across her hand, the ink stark against her skin.

Her eyes darted back to him, wide with surprise.

Johnny leaned back, his expression calm but unreadable. “If you ever need to talk…or a ride! Just call. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

Y/n’s lips parted, but no words came out. The gesture was so unexpected, so simple, yet it felt like the most special thing anyone had done for her in a long time.

“Thanks,” she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Johnny gave her a small smile, his hand resting casually on the steering wheel. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

She nodded, still stunned by the action. “I will. Thanks again, Johnny.”

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he said, his voice low.

With that, Y/n pushed the door open and stepped out, the cool night air brushing against her skin. She glanced back once as Johnny gave her a small wave before driving off, the tail lights of his car disappearing into the distance.

Y/n had been replaying that interaction with Johnny in her mind for a week now, yet the thought of actually using his number still made her stomach twist in knots.

The very night she got home, she had saved his number to her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed it in. But every time she thought about texting him, her nerves got the better of her.

Would she come across as pushy? Annoying? What if he regretted giving her his number?

But, God, did she want to message him.

Her thoughts distracted her as she walked down the street. She was on her way to a café where her dad had promised to meet her. She adjusted the strap of her bag, trying to push Johnny out of her mind.

Entering the café, she offered a polite smile to the staff behind the counter before finding a small table near the window. Sliding into the chair, she leaned back, checking the time. She was about three minutes early, but that was fine. Her dad would probably walk through the door any second now.

At least, that’s what she thought.

Ten minutes passed. Y/n’s gaze flicked back to her phone. No texts. No calls. Nothing. She sighed, her fingers drumming on the table as frustration and disappointment started to bubble up.

Finally, she decided to call him. She stared at her screen for a moment before hitting the button, holding the phone to her ear as the line rang.

“Hey, Bub,” her dad answered, his tone casual.

“Where are you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Oh, fuck!” her dad cursed on the other end of the line. “I completely forgot. I’m so sorry, Bub. I can’t make it today.”

Her heart sank, though she couldn’t say she was surprised. Disappointed? Always. But surprised? Never.

“Oh, okay,” she said softly, gripping her phone a little tighter.

“I can send you some money to get yourself something if you’d like,” he offered, as if that could somehow make up for standing her up.

“No, it’s okay,” she said, her voice quieter now. “See you at home.”

“Alright, see ya. Bye.”

And just like that, the call ended.

Y/n lowered her phone slowly, staring at the screen as if it might somehow offer her the explanation or comfort her dad couldn’t. She sat there for a moment, her appetite gone and her mood sinking further.

Her fingers hovered over her contacts list. For a fleeting moment, she thought about calling Johnny. She hadn’t used his number yet, but maybe now was the time.

What if he was busy? What if he didn’t really mean for her to call?

The anxiety crept in again, but so did the urge to feel even a fraction of the comfort he’d given her that night in the car.

She stared at his name on the screen, her finger hesitating over the call button. Should I?

Fuck it.

With a deep breath, Y/n hit the call button on Johnny's contact and held the phone to her ear. Her heart raced with every passing second, her pulse thudding louder as the ringing began.

“Hello?” Johnny's familiar voice came through, smooth and warm.

“Hey, it’s Y/n,” she said, her voice tinged with nervousness.

“Y/n!” His tone instantly brightened, cheerful and welcoming. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you. What’s up?”

“I was supposed to have lunch with my dad, but...he kinda stood me up,” she admitted softly.

She wasn’t sure what she expected, maybe reassurance, maybe just someone to make her feel like she mattered, but she knew Johnny’s words would be the comfort she needed.

“Shit,” Johnny said, his voice filled with concern. “Where are you right now?”

“Bristo,” Y/n replied, glancing at the bustling street outside the cafe.

“Alright, give me a minute. I’ll come to you,” Johnny said without hesitation.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” she said quickly, guilt creeping in. “I don’t even know why I called you...”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll be there in five,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Before she could protest again, she heard the soft click of the line disconnecting. Y/n stared at her phone, equal parts relieved and surprised. She couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips, Johnny always seemed to know exactly what she needed, even when she didn’t.

True to his word, Johnny arrived. Y/n spotted him the moment he stepped into the café, his tall frame impossible to miss. He paused just inside the door, scanning the room until his eyes landed on her. A smile immediately lit up his face, one that sent a wave of warmth washing over her.

He strode over, pulling out the chair across from her and settling into it. “Hey,” he said, his tone light, as if he’d been meeting her here all along. “You okay?”

Y/n gave him a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for coming. You really didn’t have to.”

Johnny leaned back, giving her a look. “What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t show up when someone needed me?” He glanced around the café briefly. “So, what’s good here?”

She smiled softly, relaxing a little. “I didn’t really look...I guess I wasn’t in the mood to eat by myself.”

“Well, lucky for you, you’re not alone anymore.” Johnny picked up the menu, scanning it. “What do you think? Should we split something? Or are you more possessive over your food?”

Y/n laughed, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. “Depends on how good the food,” she teased.

Johnny smirked. “Fair enough. We’ll test that theory. Two coffees and an order of fries to share sound good?”

She nodded, feeling a little lighter already. “Can I have an iced chocolate?”

“Of course, you can,” Johnny said with a warm smile, standing up and heading toward the counter to place their order.

Y/n watched him as he walked away, she couldn’t help but marvel at how effortlessly he managed to brighten her day, how his presence seemed to fill the space around him with a quiet kind of assurance.

It wasn’t just the fact that he showed up, it was the way he made her feel seen, like her bad day truly mattered to him. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt like someone was actually in her corner.

Johnny returned to the table with a numbered stand, setting it down in the center before settling back into his chair. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table as his gaze softened.

“So,” he started, his tone gentle, “how’re you feeling? I mean…about your dad and all.”

Y/n let out a small sigh, her fingers tracing patterns on the edge of the table as she avoided his eyes. “I don’t know… It’s not the first time he’s bailed on me. I guess I wasn’t really surprised.”

Johnny nodded, his expression empathetic. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck, though.”

“Yeah,” Y/n murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just…I keep hoping, you know? Like maybe one day he’ll actually show up, maybe he’ll prove me wrong. But he never does.”

Johnny’s jaw tightened for a moment, the flicker of frustration on her behalf evident. “You deserve better than that,” he said firmly. “You shouldn’t have to keep waiting for scraps of attention.”

His words hit her harder than she expected. She glanced up at him, her throat tightening. “It’s just…hard to give up on him. He’s my dad.”

“I get that,” Johnny replied, his voice steady. “But sometimes, people don’t give you what you need. Not because you’re asking for too much, but because they can’t. And that’s on them, not you.”

Y/n blinked, her chest tightening at the honesty in his tone. “You’re really good at this, you know,” she said softly, managing a small smile.

Johnny chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know about that. I just know what it’s like to need someone to show up when it matters. And if he won’t, then I guess it’s a good thing you called me.”

Her smile grew just a little as warmth spread through her chest.

The server arrived with their food, setting down a plate of crispy fries in the center of the table, followed by Johnny’s coffee and Y/n’s iced chocolate. The clink of the cup meeting the table seemed to break the tension, and for a moment, the two simply dug into the fries, letting the silence settle before continuing their conversation.

Johnny nodded slowly, letting the silence stretch between them for a moment before he spoke again. "When did this all start, then? I mean, the whole thing with your dad."

Y/n sighed, picking up another fry and slowly chewing it, trying to find the right words. "It started when I moved in with him," she said quietly, her voice quieter than usual. "Before that, I used to live with my mom, and I’d just visit my dad on weekends or holidays. I didn’t think much of it. He was always...distant, but I thought it was because of the distance. But even after moving in, it was always off."

Johnny’s eyes softened as he listened, understanding in his gaze. He stayed quiet, letting her continue at her own pace.

"But when my mom passed, I didn’t have a choice. I had to move in with him." She paused, running a finger along the edge of her iced chocolate cup. "I thought it would be fine. I figured, hey, he’s my dad. He’ll step up. But...the more time I spent with him, the more I realized how much...it wasn’t fine."

She swallowed hard, her chest tight at the memory. "I didn’t notice how strained our relationship was when I only saw him for a couple of days at a time. But living with him...living with him made me see everything I missed. I thought maybe it would change, you know? But it feels like he doesn’t care enough to try."

Johnny’s gaze was steady, his voice gentle. "I’m sorry, Y/n. That’s a heavy thing to go through, especially at your age. Losing your mom, then having to face a whole new kind of relationship with your dad."

"Yeah," she whispered, her fingers trembling slightly as she wrapped them around her cup. "I didn’t expect it to be this hard. I used to just brush it off, tell myself it was fine because I had my mom, and I only saw him for short periods of time. But now...I don’t know. It’s like everything’s coming down on me all at once. I thought maybe he’d change, but he never does."

Johnny leaned forward slightly, his tone soft but firm. "He should’ve stepped up when you needed him, but that’s on him, not you. You’re not the one at fault here, Y/n. You’re doing your best to deal with everything that’s been thrown at you."

Y/n looked up, meeting his gaze. There was a warmth there, a quiet reassurance that made her feel a little lighter. She took a deep breath, her chest aching, but somehow not as tightly as before.

"Thanks, Johnny. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this. You probably didn’t want to hear about my messed-up family problems when we first met–outside the bar, I mean."

Johnny chuckled softly, the sound like a breath of fresh air in the midst of the heaviness. "Hey, everyone has their stuff, right? We all have our problems. But I’m glad you feel comfortable talking to me about it. And don’t worry, it’s not a burden. If anything, it’s good to get it off your chest."

Y/n felt a little smile tug at the corners of her mouth, the weight in her chest easing just a bit more. "I appreciate it. Really."

Johnny smiled back, his eyes kind but steady. "Anytime, Y/n. Anytime."

After they finished their meal, Y/n and Johnny stood up from the table, ready to leave. Johnny paid for their food, even when Y/n tried to insist she could cover it. He just waved her off with a smile, saying it was his treat and that she could get the next one.

"You're stubborn," Y/n teased as they walked out of the cafe, the door chiming softly behind them.

Johnny just grinned, giving a shrug. "I know, but just means you’ll have to pay next time." He threw her a playful look.

Her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest. He wanted to hang out with her again. Y/n had to look down to hide the blush creeping up her face.

They walked side by side down the sidewalk for a moment, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows. Johnny’s voice broke the comfortable silence.

"So, what are you up to now?" he asked, glancing over at her with curiosity.

Y/n sighed, the events of the day weighing on her a little. "I’m just gonna head home. I only planned to have lunch with dad, nothing else."

Johnny nodded in understanding, his eyes softening slightly. "Yeah, that didn’t go as planned."

Y/n gave a small, wry smile. "That’s one way to put it."

After a beat, Johnny looked over at her with a suggestion. "Well, I don’t have any plans, and if you’re up for it, you could come hang out at my place for a bit. It’s probably better than sitting alone, right?"

There he goes again, making her heart beat like crazy.

Y/n looked at him, surprised by the offer but a little relieved. "You sure?" she asked, hesitant at first.

"Yeah," Johnny said with a reassuring smile. "I mean, I’ve got nothing to do, and if you’re feeling like talking or just...you know, distracting yourself, my place is open. Plus, I can drive you home later, whenever you're ready."

Y/n didn’t even have to think about it for long. She felt surprisingly comfortable with Johnny, and after the weird day she’d had, spending some time with him felt like a good way to unwind.

"Okay," she said, her smile soft but grateful.

They made their way to Johnny’s car, the drive going by smoothly. As Y/n leaned back in the passenger seat, Johnny glanced at her a few times, but didn’t say much, content to let the silence settle between them, only broken by the occasional hum of the car or the soft sound of the radio playing in the background.

When they pulled into the parking lot of Johnny’s apartment building, Y/n glanced up at the modest complex. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple, window-fronted building with a few balconies and potted plants by the entrance. Despite its plain exterior, there was something inviting about it, maybe it was Johnny’s presence, maybe it was his smile.

Getting in the building, they took the elevator up. She was half-expecting Johnny to give her a formal, awkward tour of the place, but instead, he just nodded toward the door, indicating for her to enter.

The inside was just as she imagined, simple, a little cluttered but warm, with a lived-in vibe that made it feel instantly comfortable. A worn leather couch sat against the far wall, by a low coffee table tv remotes and a half-empty cup of coffee.

"Home sweet home," Johnny said with a small grin as he locked the door behind them. "Make yourself comfortable."

Y/n smiled as she slipped off her shoes, glancing around. "It’s nice. I like it."

"Well, my apartment is like any other," Johnny chuckled. "Not much, but it works for me."

He walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of glasses. "You want something to drink? Water? Juice?"

"Water please," Y/n said, taking a seat on the couch.

She looked around, taking in the personal touches scattered throughout the apartment, a few framed photos on the shelves, some cds and records in the corner, and a couple of potted plants by the window.

A few moments later, Johnny handed her a glass of water before settling down on the side table beside her, a comfortable silence hanging between them.

"You know," Y/n said, breaking the quiet as she swirled her glass, "I really wasn’t expecting my day to end like this."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Hanging out in some guy’s apartment after your dad ditched lunch?"

Y/n laughed softly, nodding. "Yeah."

"Well, if it helps, you’ve made my day more interesting," Johnny said, leaning back against the cushions. "I was just gonna spend the afternoon binge-watching something stupid."

"I mean, you can still do that, you just have company now," Y/n said, smiling a little as she relaxed into the couch. "I don’t mind watching something stupid with you."

Johnny leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Alright then, but you can pick."

Y/n thought for a moment, then grinned. "SpongeBob?"

Johnny blinked, caught off guard by her choice before a slow smile spread across his face. "Spongebob it is. A real big girl pick."

He grabbed the remote, flicking through streaming options until he found the show. As the theme song blared from the TV, Y/n couldn’t help but smile a little, already feeling lighter. Johnny sat back, his arm draped casually over the back of the couch, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence as they watched the ridiculous antics of a yellow sponge unfold.

It was halfway through an episode, some scene involving jellyfishing, when Johnny glanced over at her, noticing the way her expression had grown more subdued, as if her mind was elsewhere. He didn’t say anything at first, waiting until the end of the episode before speaking.

"You okay?" he asked gently, his voice low.

Y/n hesitated, keeping her eyes on the screen for a moment before sighing. "I guess…I don’t know. It just hit me again, how weird things are with my dad."

Johnny didn’t interrupt, letting her find the right words.

"It’s just…frustating," Y/n continued, playing with the hem of her sleeve. "Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad. But he’s just so infuriating. Like I barely get to hang out with him, as you can tell, but even when I used to try hang out with him at home, he’s brush me off and get annoyed, so I stopped. I don’t doubt that he loves me, but he makes it so difficult. He’s not at all abusive, but he makes me feel so ignored."

Johnny frowned slightly, his gaze thoughtful. "So he’s just really distant…doesn’t give you the time of day?"

"Exactly," Y/n said quietly. "I’m just a constant bother to him."

Johnny nodded, leaning forward slightly. "You want him to show up for you, but it feels like he won’t."

Y/n swallowed hard, the truth of his words striking her. "Yeah. And I don’t know how to deal with that anymore. I keep trying, but…it’s exhausting."

They sat in silence for a beat, the sound of the next episode playing in the background.

"You ever feel like...things are just never gonna get better with someone?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Johnny was quiet for a moment before answering. "Yeah. I think everyone feels that way at some point. But it doesn’t always mean things are stuck forever. Sometimes, you’ve gotta figure out what you need first, and if you can’t get it from that person, you might need to find it elsewhere."

Y/n looked over at him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "I don’t know if he’ll ever be the dad I need him to be."

Johnny turned toward her, his expression serious but warm. "Sometimes people can’t be what we want them to be. That’s not on you. But it’s okay to take care of yourself. You don’t have to keep putting yourself through it if it’s just hurting you."

For a moment, Y/n didn’t say anything, letting his words sink in. It was hard to accept, but hearing it from Johnny felt...freeing, like he understood in a way not many people did.

"Thanks, Johnny," she said softly, offering a small, sincere smile. "Really."

He smiled back, nudging her lightly with his shoulder. "Anytime. Back to Spongebob?"

Y/n chuckled and nodded as she turned her attention back to the screen. It wasn’t the day she planned, but sitting there, watching cartoons with Johnny, she realized it was exactly what she needed.

Johnny leaned back into the couch, pretending to focus on the show playing in front of them. But his eyes drifted, almost involuntarily, to Y/n. She was sitting quietly, her gaze fixed on the screen, but he could tell her mind was still elsewhere, probably circling back to her dad. He had seen that look before, in the mirror of all places.

It wasn’t the first time he found himself just...watching her. Not in a creepy way, but in those moments where he couldn’t help but notice little things, like how the corners of her lips twitched up slightly when something made her smile, even if it was brief. Or how she played with her fingers at random times. It was those small details that caught his attention, and sometimes, if he wasn’t careful, it caught too much of his attention.

You need to stop looking at her like that, Johnny.

The thought hit him hard, like a warning he had to keep reminding himself of. She was younger than him, too young for him to be having moments like this. But no matter how many times he told himself that, there was something about her that made it difficult to look away.

Her dad clearly didn’t see it. Didn’t see how much she needed someone to be there for her, to just show up. And Johnny…well, he clearly wasn’t her dad, wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a bartender, but damn it, he could be there.

If no one else was going to step up, he was willing to. He couldn’t stand the thought of her sitting alone, waiting for someone who wasn’t coming.

He hated that she felt this way, that someone so vibrant, who could light up a room with her laugh, was carrying this weight around like it was hers alone to bear.

And as much as he knew he shouldn’t get too involved, there was a part of him that didn’t care. If she needed someone, he was more than ready to fill that role, even if it meant risking a little heartache of his own.

Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Y/n turned toward him, catching his eye with a soft smile that made something stir in his chest.

"You okay over there?" she asked, her voice light, but her gaze curious.

Johnny smirked, pushing aside his deeper thoughts for now. "Yeah. Just thinking about your choice of entertainment."

Y/n laughed quietly. "It’s silly and doesn’t take itself too seriously. Always brings me comfort."

He smiled back. Johnny realized he didn’t mind spending the rest of his day like this, just sitting beside her, watching silly cartoons, and being exactly where he wanted to be.

A/N: BAM! Part one out the gate Again, these fics ended up wAY too long for no reason, so I had to seperate them into different parts, but shouldn't be a big deal, lol I hope you enjoyed this part and read the next two :) Thank you for reading 💚

#fanfic #nct #nct 127 #nct johnny #nct fanfic #johnny seo #daddy johnny #johnny seo x reader #johnny suh #johnny suh x reader #johnny nct #nct johnny x reader #nct 127 johnny x reader #nct johnny suh x reader #nct johnny seo x reader #johnny suh imagine #johnny suh fanfic #johnny seo fanfic #johnny seo imagine

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slutsareteacherstoo · 5 months ago

Text

I Hope Part 4 - Terry Richmond x Black OC

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)

Summary: Savannah works an (unplanned) Saturday shift and has to cover a program unexpectedly! (Terry not in here....til the very end)

Warnings/Things of Note: Mentions/glimpses of disability, medications, shoutout to Black lesbians, divorce, disordered eating, ARFID, libraries (you should have a card if you don't), shoutout to library workers, masks, pandemic mention, brief medical trauma

Word Count: 6K+ (6,667)

Author’s Note: Hi y'all. Thank you for your patience. I decided to just post everything together like it was originally supposed to be but omfg. I think I overdid the exposition and description. I kinda don’t like it but thats okay cuz as i write more I’ll improve my style and be ok with it

So glad I got this part done. I told my therapist these characters are haunting me and doing shit behind my back like yall better slow down. 🤣 i might go back and fix the tags and warnings probably so if there's something I missed lmk. It was also kinda not proofread, so lmk if I missed anything. I hate that this is soo long mostly cuz Terry didnt get his depth in part 3 but Imma work on it.

I don't give my consent for my work to be copied, reposted, translated or used to train AI.

If you wanna be tagged or removed let me know.

Okay🧍🏾‍♀️ gonna go now 🏃🏿‍♀️

The trilling of a phone alarm rang through Savannah’s bedroom, startling her awake. Pillows and blankets were thrown askew, some falling to the floor. She reached toward the nightstand to silence her phone. With weary eyes, she looked at the blazing screen with the time of 6:30am on display. This was too early for a Saturday morning. She put on her glasses and swung her body to the side of the bed, counting mentally for 30 seconds before rising with a groan.

Savannah made her way to the bathroom, wincing as she turned on the light and at the overwhelming urge to pee. After flushing and washing her hands, she began her morning routine: water flossing, electric toothbrush, mouthwash. Wiping her mouth with a towel, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was NOT supposed to be up this early for a Saturday. Savannah had volunteered to cover for her coworker, Desiree, whose child had an important meet today. This was the sixth day of the week she was going to be working at the library, and right now she resolved to never volunteer herself again. Even if it was time and a half.

Reminding herself of her bonnet and the hair she needed to take care of underneath it, she grabbed her plush, forest green rolling chair and sat. Savannah pulled off the bonnet and felt her hair with two hands. She softly stretched it and wondered how she’d do it today. Saturdays were normally wash days but Savannah didn’t have time for that. The reminder ping to take her medicine only emphasized that. The mirror cabinet swung open to reveal prescription medications, supplements, painkillers, a first aid kit, alcohol, hydrogen peroxide and 2 mini water bottles specifically to ensure she wouldn’t dry swallow. It was hard not to. Savannah downed her meds and supplements. She didn’t touch the painkillers, resolving that maybe her liver deserved a break.

Savannah closed the mirror and stared at herself again. Deep brown skin with hints of gold was looking a bit paler and the under eye circles, courtesy of her glasses and general fatigue were looking a bit more prominent than usual. Who would ever choose to be up at this god awful time on a Saturday morning? The answer to her mental thought was answered by Hip Hop Harry’s, “I Love to Learn”, the signature ringtone from none other than her best friend, Marisol. Grad school classmates turned librarian coworkers, the two had been inseparable since. Savannah glanced at the phone and saw it was a video call of all things. Savannah rolled her eyes and accepted it.

“Why are you calling my phone this early in the morning?” Savannah grumbled and absentmindedly adjusted her glasses.

“Well, good morning to you, Miss Sunshine. You can’t greet?” Marisol said in a mocking tone, a thick eyebrow raised and fully lashed eye moving closer to the screen.

Savannah was fighting the urge to smile and laugh. Seeing Marisol’s face —round, dark brown with cool red undertones, and never without pink blush always made her smile. Her deep red hair was braided down in two plaits with pink bows at the ends and her silver septum ring glinting in the light.

Savannah responded with an eyeroll and Marisol smacked her lips, glossy lined in black, “Tuh. Don’t be mad at me for trying to make sure you got up early this morning and make it to work on time.” Marisol was being playful.

“I’m up aren’t I?” Savannah retorted, “How are you already ready this early? It’s not even 7 yet!”

“Well, I had a bit of an early start,” Marisol said with the bite of her lip and looking across her shoulder. Savannah couldn’t see more than her friend’s face in the frame but the low, morning voice that followed was hint enough at what gave her best friend that morning espresso.

“Good morning, Savannah,” Demi, Marisol’s partner, responded before coming into view. Her dark brown locs were up in a bun and sweatband covered her tapered hairline. It looked like she was heading out for her morning run. Demi gave Marisol a quick kiss on the cheek, joining Marisol in the frame; her brown skin was beaming at the sight of Savannah’s best friend.

“Eww,” Savannah responded, eyes wide with fake disgust and but also genuine awe. She didn’t know how they had the energy and so early in the morning. Now it was Demi and Marisol’s turn to roll their eyes and scoff. The three of them let out a laugh. Savannah went back to observing herself in the mirror. She didn’t know what she was going to do with her hair.

“Put it in a puff,” Demi said, catching Savannah off guard. Savannah looked back at the screen again. “Put in a puff and slap on a bandanna,” Demi repeated with the sip of her coffee mug.

Savannah liked Demi a lot. She was the favorite of Marisol’s partners over the years. And while Savannah hated unsolicited advice, Demi’s was never wrong and always gave it at the right time.

“Yeah. I agree. Just get a big scrunchie or an old headband and tie that thing back. You won't have to worry about it the whole day.” Marisol added.

Savannah nodded in agreement. She’d just deal with it tomorrow. She reached under the sink for one of her organizers. It had the detangling spray, wide tooth comb, clips, gel, brush and scrunchie she needed. Savannah began the puff process while responding to the lovely couple: light spray, section, clip, comb, clip again.

“Thank you for calling me though. I was so close to giving Blue Monday on a Saturday,” Savannah said while shaking her head.

“I know! That’s why I did. I don’t know why you agreed to cover for Desiree anyways.”

“It’s time and a half.”

“So?”

”So?! Being disabled is expensive and I got bills to pay.”

“Say less,” Marisol agreed, letting it go.

Demi, however, decided to butt in, “But I thought the money from—”

That gave Savannah pause. Stunned at Demi’s almost question, she put the comb down on the sink counter. The sound echoed in the morning quiet. She took a breath to still herself before glancing at the phone screen again.

“Oop!” Marisol scurried out the frame with her hands raised and backed away from the camera, leaving her partner to fend for herself. Marisol had already tried to have this conversation with Savannah many times before. It seemed that Demi’s unfinished question was another one of Marisol’s sly attempts. Demi reluctantly inched forward as Savannah stared daggers through the screen.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Demi exclaimed. “I just meant that you’ve been working so hard. I just wish that you let yourself rest a bit more and take it easy, well in that regard. I just—”

Savannah cut in right there. “Now, I’m gonna stop you before you go any further. I’m gonna give you grace because I know that your girl put you up to it.”

Demi’s eyes moved slowly over to look at said girl out of frame and back at Savannah.

“But that money,” even saying the word made Savannah’s mouth sour, “wasn’t free. It still isn’t.”

She understood what they were trying to do. To express their concerns about her pushing herself. But they didn’t get it. The money she got out of the divorce was secured out of necessity not greed. And it would never be enough to pay for the long-term damage her ex’s betrayal had done.

“Well,” Demi began “…it definitely was not but,” she was finding her footing again, in spite of Savannah’s Scorpio stare, “you ARE free from that nigga.” Demi was preaching now, the spirit of encouragement influencing her oration. Marisol ad-libbed a churchy “Thank you, Lord” from the background. Oh great, Savannah thought as her steel started to crack.

“And the State of California, declared that in addition to that freedom,” Demi continued, while Marisol hummed in the background to goad her partner on, “he has no choice but to pay for his lies.” Demi declared with a pointed finger, as Marisol shouted, “Come on.” Wait, was that organ keyboard music Savannah heard coming from their end? Her anger was dissipating into chuckles of amusement.

“So all I’m saying, Sister Savannah,” Demi said softly with preacher’s cadence still in effect, “and I hold your hand when I say this,” she held her own two hands for Savannah’s emphasis, “you should hold no guilt when it comes to using it. No shame for using it when you need it. Exactly like you said, it wasn’t free. But in this new life, you deserve to give yourself the ease you desire. You can do that now.” Demi ended, punctuated by Marisol’s soft hallelujah and towel-clad hand on her forehead. The music faded out and the space was silent for a beat. Savannah’s eyes circled upward for a bit, trying to hold in tears because it was too early for all this. When she looked down again, two pairs of eyes were staring back at her. Savannah’s moved pursed lips from side-to-side, mulling over what to say. In a low tone, “You two…” a snort is what actually came out and then a chorus of laughter and chuckles. “Y’all are something else,” she said with the shake of her head.

Savannah went back to finishing up her hair and her favorite couple watched.

“So, does that mean you won’t beat my ass?” Demi asked.

“I guess,” Savannah deadpanned.

“And does that mean we’re still splitting Ms. Taylor’s leftovers at lunch?” Marisol added.

“Hmm, I’ll have to think about it,” Savannah said with a smirk. Of course she would. She always did.

“Well, at least I’m in the clear.” Demi said, preparing to head out. Marisol scoffed in time with the kiss she left on her cheek. “I’ll catch you later, Sister Savannah.”

Savannah put her hands together and bowed her head slightly, “Thank you, Pastor Demi.” With the grab of her keys and wink, Demi was gone now leaving the best friends to themselves.

Marisol watched as Savannah put the finishing touches on her hair, smoothing and pinning it. It was a simple and classic style. She admired her friend’s handiwork. Especially because Savannah was getting back into it again. And was actually able to. Savannah was proud of the fact that she could do her hair…when her body would cooperate with her. It was always touch and go but the last few months were a lot for her, especially with fully sitting and internalizing the aftermath of the divorce. So, Marisol was soaking in her friend’s born-again pride with a smile.

Savannah’s voice floated in, interrupting Marisol’s thoughts.

“You know you not slick right?,” an eyebrow of Savannah’s own arching.

“I’ve never claimed to be,” Marisol replied

“‘You deserve to give yourself the ease you desire’. Your girl is good with her words. I got the message,” Savannah nodded in acceptance.

“Hey, as long as it got through, that’s all that matters.” Marisol said with hands up. “And she really is,” a smile growing at her lips. She loved the woman badly.

“Also, why do I get the feeling that preaching routine I got a glimpse of is something that you do on the regular? Y’all don’t even go to church,” pressed Savannah with a knowing look. Marisol smirked in a response.

“Anyways, I’m glad that you’re almost ready and that I get to work a Saturday shift with you.” Marisol smiled

Almost was the operative word. For all the time she spent on her hair and being on the phone, she was still in her pajamas! Hadn’t picked her outfit, ate her breakfast, gave herself time to lollygag or pack her lunch.

“Yeah, almost. Girl, I love you but I gotta go,” the words came out hurriedly, as she was about to hang up.

“Don’t forget that food, Savannah,” Marisol reminded her. “You know she gon ask me,” continued with a pointed look. Savannah nodded in reply. “I love you too. See you soon.” Marisol blew a kiss through the phone that Savannah dramatically caught and held to her chest.

When the call ended, Savannah scrambled into action to find her clothes for the day. The plan was shades of brown. There was a chocolate brown pullover in the car she planned to wear after letting Mari borrow it. For now she’d go for the white collared shirt, tan khakis and multicolored sneakers in shades of brown and white. So followed the routine of bra, ribbed high neck tank top, compression socks (that were easy to slide on thank god). She padded to the closet to get her shirt and pants but they were nowhere to be found. Sliding hanger after hanger, forwards and backwards but neither of them were there. Savannah knew she wasn’t tripping. Where were her clothes? When she made a slight turn around, she came to face with her dirty laundry basket and peeking out the top were the desired shirt and khakis. Savannah groaned remembering that today was Saturday. That was the outfit she planned for yesterday, which she wore…yesterday. It was also washday in every sense of the word. Savannah didn’t have any other clothes that she deemed work appropriate. She needed to throw together something, because if she wasn’t ready to go in the next 10 mins she was going to be late! Fuck it, she whispered.

She went through her closet again and found some black yoga pants. This would do, she guessed. At least she had the pullover in car to cover her upper half. Despite the fall heat, the building’s air conditioning made the circulation desk, especially, a freezer; whoever decided to place the desk directly under that vent was incompetent in their design of the building. Savannah’s phone rang, which told her she was definitely going to be late for work. She walked back to the bathroom to silence it and grab her makeup bag. So much for shades of brown, she grumbled as she lifted her glasses, applying black liner to her lash and water lines. The light turned off when she headed toward the exit of her room and grabbed two thin, oversized gold hoops on her way out. In the kitchen, she grabbed a lunch tote, the two Tupperware dishes Ms. Taylor had given her, some chips, applesauce and two bottles of water. She decided to throw in a protein shake as the breakfast she didn’t plan to have. Savannah was close to making her way out the house. Her lunch tote and bag were already set by the entryway table, all she needed to do was put her shoes on, grab her keys and hit the road. When she looked up after tying her shoes, the mirror in the entryway revealed that with all the running around she was in earlier, she’d forgotten to tie her hair down–which was now frizzy and white? Oh hell no!

- - - - - -

When Savannah pulled up to her place of work she was already annoyed for a variety of reasons. For one, the front of her hair decided to build a white cast due to the detangling spray and gel she used not mixing well! Because of that, she had to go back in her house and find something to cover the mess. It was a magenta bandana she grabbed at random, which was fucking with the color scheme. Second, the coveted pullover that Savannah thought was in her vehicle was nowhere to be found. She saw Marisol give it back to her and Savannah placed it in her own car, or so she thought. So it meant that she’d be out of her self-prescribed uniform and cold as hell. Arms and chest out, Savannah looked she was going to the gym NOT her library workplace. Luckily, she had the foresight to leave an extra cardigan in her workspace. But the look and vibe she wanted for the day all went to hell. And now, third, she had to cover a program she had NOT planned to and had to figure out what to cobble together. It was too early for all of this!

“What do you mean I have to cover for Amir’s program?! Can’t you just cancel it?” Savannah was in the face of her boss, Dante, who was mirroring her similar exasperation, but with eyes had a hint of fear. He was trying to keep himself together. Dante wasn’t scared of Savannah. He quite liked her a lot as an employee. She was a great librarian to the patrons, warm and inviting. Always willing to answer any question and help troubleshoot anything the patrons were struggling with. She also wasn’t afraid to break up the occasional teen fight or kick someone out of the library for doing wild behavior, like searching for or watching certain things on public library computers. Or some people thinking they could talk to her interns and volunteers any kind of way. Believing that if they threw a tantrum, they’d give in to whatever ridiculous demand they had or could solve whatever issue they deemed to be the fault of library staff and not their own inability to follow basic and clear instructions. Savannah was not the one, or the two. She seemed to have a sense that things were amiss, even if she was all the way in storage. With just a look and/or a fire tongue, she could put anyone in their place and make them reevaluate their life choices. Right now, Dante was on the receiving end of one of those looks. And he was definitely a bit unsettled. Adjusting his blue tie and white button-up, he tried to continue with his request.

“Well, Amir’s program brings in a lot of traffic for the library. That you know we need, especially since we're expanding our services again. You know, opening up.”

Savannah stared at him, not understanding how that was her problem, clearly annoyed.

Dante cleared his throat, his skin reddening at the intensity of her annoyance. “And well…I think it’d be a, um–good opportunity for you, for, for the community, to listen to what you have to say. You are a wealth of knowledge—”

“We all are, that’s why we work here,” Savannah cut him off.

“Well, yes. But the rotation was already set for today and I believe that you can come up with something great, that’ll keep the patrons here, maintain the traffic and inspire them with something new?” There was a squeak at the end of that. A fucking squeak. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Savannah. The smirk he couldn’t see was slowly beginning to take shape on her face. Her intense stare of irritation turned into one of satisfaction, like watching prey fall right into a trap. She considered her words before she spoke, rolling around ideas to see what she could get out of this.

“Ok. I’ll do it,” Savannah said, crossing her arms.

“Oh thank you so much. I—”

“On two conditions.” Savannah interrupted, holding up a long, manicured nail.

“Sure,” Dante quickly nodded. He’d agree with whatever she asked for, before she changed her mind.

“One, you write Casey their letter of recommendation for the Junior Fellows Program.”

Dante considered it. He hated writing letters of recommendations, even though it was part of his job, given they had volunteers year after year who yearned for them for one program or another. He was also really great at them and Dante knew that too. Dante did like Casey, the young college student. And if Savannah vouched for them, why not?

“Done.”

“Two, you get someone else to represent our branch at the next two county meetings.”

At that though, Dante grimaced. Savannah saw his lips and face contorting in annoyance and hesitation.

Savannah hated those meetings. They were mostly people up at the bureaucratic top talking down to the “lowly” library workers who would make decisions not based in the reality of being on the ground. Savannah had gone to the last 3. The first 2 were luckily on Zoom, so she didn’t have to hop in her car and drive all the way over to meet up with all the other representatives of their respective branches and be bored out of her mind. The 3rd one was in-person, which Savannah was apprehensive about. Yes, she wore a mask and worked in such a public facing role, that she probably came into contact with people who were experiencing acute infections that she didn’t want to think about. But this had been jarring for her. Before the pandemic actually and even earlier when she started out, she didn’t mind going to the meetings, wanting the opportunity get to know other librarians and be in the know about being with her supposed colleagues, who she used to commiserate with especially in regards to the changes happening in the library system because of the pandemic; how being chronically understaffed and overworked was the norm now because people were out sick so much and people at the top weren’t getting it. Since it began, Savannah had probably covered at least 10 other branches as a one time thing or on a certain recurring basis, give or take. Everyone talked about how taxing it had been and scary and frustrating dealing with the arrival of this new thing. Because of these shared feelings, she thought she was on the same page as a lot of her colleagues. Not all of them, but at least a good number as the time kept moving forward. So when she walked into that last meeting and saw only 5 other people masked in a room of 40 people, it irritated her. She didn’t know these people intimately. And could understand why so many of them weren’t masked. Frequently given responses played in her head:

It’s not so bad anymore.

We have vaccines now.

I don’t want people to think I’m sick.

I don’t want to attract attention.

My friend wore one and still got sick.

It’s too expensive now.

I had it twice and I’m fine.

But memories began to flash in her mind: laying down in bed struggling to breathe; the fuzziness of paramedics rolling her out the house, Damian at her side; grogginess in hospital bed but total awareness of pain; months of fatigue like she never felt before; scorn and fury toward husband turned ex-husband; scorn and fury towards family and friends who no longer had the privilege of speaking to Savannah; depression like a weighted blanket—

And she couldn't, she just couldn’t.

Savannah maintained her steel. Not wanting to give her boss insight. She wasn’t begging or pleading. And she wasn’t asking him either, these were just her conditions. And if he wanted that program covered for real, he would say yes. She didn’t have to explain anything to him! But Dante’s face softened and Savannah feared she let something show that she shouldn’t have. Even though half her face was covered, Savannah’s eyes were always one of her most expressive features, even when she didn’t mean them to be.

“Fine,” Dante sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll get someone else to do it.”

Savannah gave Dante a nod in appreciation, “Thank you,” and turned to her workspace

—---------

The sound of a fast swinging door interrupted a conversation between the pair in the shared workspace. The two turned around to see why Savannah of all people was opening doors that hard in the morning.

“Damn, what’s got you in a mood?” Marisol interrogated looking Savannah up and down.

Casey chuckled and answered for Savannah, “Dante voluntold her to cover Amir’s parent program.” They pulled down their Black surgical mask, smirking and taking a sip from their water bottle. Casey was dressed in a black button up, blue jeans and white sneakers with a grey zip hoodie, and black durag still on their head.

“What? Why didn’t he just cancel?” Marisol asked

“That’s what I said!” Savannah retorted

Casey was twisting in their rolling chair, “You know them thirsty ass parents gon be disappointed and mad as hell.” They arched an eyebrow in amusement. And the three of them laughed because yes, Amir was widely regarded as attractive with a full beard, cheekbones to die for and smooth, velvety voice that could pause most children and adults. For the last 2 years, he had been one of the main facilitators for a virtual storytime program, catapulting him to larger audience of parents that have followed him back to the libraries. It was kind of wild.

“I still can't believe that he drew all them parents from Zoom. They can‘t even see his full face now but they STILL be coming in here.” Savannah said

“That face card never declines.” Casey said.

Mari hummed in agreement, while Savannah was trying to figure out what she was meant to put together for these parents.

—

Her 2 hour shift at the front/circulation desk was spent searching up ideas for this program. It was for parents of different age groups. So a varied range in audience. A patron’s return of a cookbook sparked the idea of knowledge sharing: cooking for your family in simple ways and still getting in the nutrients with less stress. Savannah typed in a doc some of her points and searched the catalog for relevant titles that patrons might be interested in checking out.

On her break, she went outside, took her medicine and some sips of water, pacing around a bit to improve her circulation. Savannah’s phone vibrated and she checked her phone. It was from her neighbor across the street, Ms. Taylor Richmond.

My nephew Terry is coming today. So I’ll drop something off a bit after he’s settled in and you get off work.

It made Savanah smile. Ms. Taylor was absolutely wonderful to her, as a welcoming neighbor and good friend. A few more texts from her came through.

Enjoy your lunch :)

And you better give me my containers back. That’s my good Tupperware Savannah!🤨

Thank you 😊

I’ll make sure. Marisol will too.😌

Savannah rolled her eyes in amusement. She couldn’t wait to be done with this program and eat her lunch. Ms. Taylor had told her what it was when she dropped it off, but Savannah had been tired when she picked it up and wanted to go lay down. Savannah would welcome this surprise though.

Back inside and now free from the circulation desk, Savannah was in her workspace editing her mini slideshow. The info was good and the visuals were everything, even with adults. Shoutout to the templates of the internet. She pulled her books and other materials they might need. Not too much though, Savannah wasn’t going to stress. Even though Amir did bring in a lot of patrons and helped with the engagement of the library, a lot of parents would probably turn the other way and not show up. That was one of the first things she learned: you can put all your effort into a program and sometimes people wont show up. Savannah’d learned that it was never anything personal. Well, maybe except for this case.

——

Casey was helping Savannah bring out the A-frame for the program, letters drawn expertly in marker by their calligraphic hand. Savannah was at the reserved area, waiting for participants to arrive.

“Yeah, this shit look fire,” Casey crossed their arms and nodded at their handiwork.

“It really is. Thank you for your help,” Savannah said with a smile that reached her eyes. Savannah knew that she wasn’t supposed to have favorites but Casey was her favorite intern by far. Well, Casey did work at the library now but they’d be gone next academic year and it kind of made her sad. She’d seen Casey grow so much over the last 2 and half years, even though half of it was in a virtual way. From getting more clarity about their future, their confidence in their abilities as an up and coming professional, their values and ways of being, pronouns going from he/him, he/they, they/he, and finally they/them, hell even being the one of the social media managers of the TikTok for their branch; which inspired them to create their own— be more visible, unafraid to take up space and indulge in the little things. Savannah wished she was like Casey when she was that age.

“Of course. And don’t worry, if any of these parents start talking to you with some bass in they voice wondering where they man at, I’ll be right across,” Casey pointed to the circulation desk, “and ready to set somebody straight.” Casey began to mimic what Savannah believed to be the yellow emoji of steam coming out the nose, and flexed their arms downward. Savannah laughed and shooed Casey to their post at the circulation desk. Once seated, Casey pointed their first two fingers from their eyes to Savannah; to which Savannah gave a mock salute.

And so the patrons began to enter, some earlier than expected. Savannah answered the question of where Amir was about 100 times, it felt like. Some parents and kids she knew from during the week, surprised to see her on a Saturday and were excited to see her. Some parents walked in the direction of the group and seemingly went the other direction, when they saw the man they were expecting wasn’t there. Some gave pause, leeriness aside, they still signed in and took their kids to a different part of the library before returning up front with Savannah. She took a breath. It’s all going to be fine.

And it was.

The hour and half had flown by faster than she’d expected. The group of parents and caregivers were a mix. Some were new, had been at it for a while, had kids who were all grown up now or were raising their own grandkids and wanted a different perspective than they had before, some caregivers were siblings raising siblings, new caregivers raising new teens. And she was surprised about their general engagement and their participation and suggestions.

Sheet pan this. Air fryer that. Blending up veggies and hiding it in pasta sauce. Bulk buying. The freezer is your best friend. Topping off water with a hint of juice and kids would be none the wiser. Frozen fruits and veggies were just as good as fresh ones (that one she got from a TikTok, and it was working for Savannah! No more wilting or spoiled produce). Vegetables need to be seasoned for kids to eat them or a nice sauce on the side. Safe foods for kids were a thing, and no sometimes they didn’t grow out of it at their big ages. Any food is better than no food. There’s nothing wrong with a lot of traditional foods. A lot of it tastes good for a reason. Sweets were okay after dinner. If you don’t restrict the sweets so much, they're bound to choose other options anyway. Your child is your child, which may even be different from your other children. They’re habits are not all the same. If your child won’t eat something that’s not your fault. And it’s not theirs either. Any food is better than no food. You can buy protein shakes with EBT. Eating out isn’t the end of the world. Let them be engaged with the process of cooking and putting their food together.

For the most part, it seemed that everyone took away something important for them. People shared recipes they’d seen on Facebook, on Instagram, on TikTok. In fact, a good 20 minutes was spent on Savannah pulling up said recipes on the computer, so she could project them on the TV. And they all watched, bringing other curious onlookers to their area and see what was going on.

When her lunchtime came, Savannah shared more of the details with Marisol as the two ate outside.

“Wow, I’m surprised no one came for your head,” Marisol said

“Listen! I was shocked too. Although I feel that Casey may have also played a role in that. They were telling me how some guy was staring me down and—”

“What?! Wait staring you down because he was looking for his mans too or…”

“No, I don’t think so. Casey never saw him before. I just brought it up because they were lowkey doing crowd control. There was this one lady though—”

“Before you continue that thought,” Marisol gestured to the containers in front of them. Right. It was lunch time. As hungry as Savannah was, she could talk about anything long enough and forget to eat. Savannah followed suit and opened the containers. Chicken and mushroom pasta. A mini platter of sliced fruits and veggies. A large slice of pound cake. Seeing it all made her mouth water and definitely made her stop talking quickly. Savannah took her fork and got to work. In all her excitement, she hadn’t noticed Marisol taking a picture. It was as off-guard as a picture could get. Marisol sent it off to Ms. Taylor, who sent a prompt text back.

Now you know she’s gonna be mad at you for this one.😂😂

She’ll forgive me 🤷🏿‍♀️

Marisol put her phone away, tossed her two red braids behind her and dug into her food. She was happy that Ms. Taylor had split everything in separate containers for the two of them. Neither her nor Savannah were above licking the container because that’s how good the pasta was. After some time had passed, Marisol decided to go 2 for 2 in talking about something Savannah didn’t not want to hear.

“So…have you given any thoughts on what you’d want to do for your birthday?,” Marisol questioned. The look Savannah gave her should’ve made her nervous but the sight of her with food all over her mouth made her want to laugh.

“And sorry to break it to you, but your powers hold no effect on me.” Marisol fake huffed and Savannah rolled her eyes. One day they’d fall right out of her head.

“No, I haven’t. I just want to be at home,” the word home came out of Savannah’s mouth with a hint of sadness and grief.

Marisol tried to lighten the mood with some suggestions, “We can do things at home. Karaoke. Dinner and a movie marathon. Pinterest vision board. Ooh, maybe I can ask Demi if she can do like spa day massage for you.” That quirked a small smile on her lips

“Ooh maybe. I gotta see about those oh so talented hands you talk about.” Savannah said playfully and Marisol gave her a deadpan stare.

Savannah chuckled and continued, “Look, the tension all over my body has been ridiculous. It’s got me pulling out old PT exercises. And Demi got that knot out your shoulder that’d been there for like ever, so I trust her.” She shrugged her shoulders and took a bite of a carrot.

Marisol smiled at Savannah and to herself. Savannah was grasping onto an idea, one that gave her a small hope about the future. Which is what Marisol wanted for her friend, especially after the last year she had. This was a start and she was ready to put the plans in motion.

—

It was after 5:30 when Savannah pulled into her driveway. Her lunch tote, her bag and chocolate pullover (which she’d actually left at the circulation desk of all places) were in her left arm as she wrestled to open the door. She was beyond exhausted and needed to lay down.

Savannah closed her door and placed her items on the counter. Piece by piece, she began to strip in the entryway and put those clothes in the other hamper she had. It didn’t matter how tired Savannah was. Outside clothes were never touching her furniture. She padded her way toward her room to use the restroom and find a shirt and some shorts. After she was done, Savannah took her medicine and resolved to take a nap on the couch. She laid down and placed the weighted blanket over her. She’d wake up in the middle of the night and make her way to the shower or her bed. For now she’d take her rest and wait for Ms. Taylor to drop off her Saturday and Sunday dinner. The three knocks at the door made her wince, because damn she thought she had more time before she had to get up.

Savannah groaned lowly and announced she was coming. Bumbling her way to the front door and picking a random mask off the hook, she was so ready to greet her neighbor and then bid her adieu. She was NEVER volunteering herself ever again. Savannah opened her door and went to greet Ms. Taylor but the person in front of her was someone different altogether. And it left her in shock. Because who was this man? Showing up in a mask? With her food? With this presence?

“Hi,” Savannah’s brain spoke for her, “You must be Terry?” because she was noticing too much about him.

He nodded, “Yes, how’d you know that?”

“Your aunt. She said a nephew was staying over, that and your eyes. You two are definitely the same. Thank you for bringing this over.” Savannah had replied. “And my name is Savannah,” she added, holding her hand out for a handshake. She hoped her hand wasn’t sweating. Outside of her job she wasn’t good with new people. And well, she hadn’t had a man so close to her threshold in damn near a year. And he smelled really good too. She kind of wished she’d worn her robe out because she felt so aware of everything, including her chest she hoped he wasn’t staring at. But it was hard not to, she guessed. She was staring right past him though, not making eye contact with him for real.

But then he touched her hand. His large palm covered her own, their calluses complementing each other; the backs of their hands so smooth. And Savannah felt something stir in her like recognition, like memory. Which would be absolutely impossible because she’d never met this man in her life. Maybe it just felt that way since Ms, Taylor did bring him up from time to time and there were pictures of the child turned man in her house. The touch made her look at him, fully.

“Savannah,” Terry said her name as if trying to memorize it and savor it. The smile that formed on her lips when he said it. Thank goodness he couldn’t see it because she liked the way he said her name. She hoped he’d say it again.

“Savannah?” Terry asked. She must have zoned out.

“Sorry about that,” Savannah blinked herself back to reality. “Um, well yes thank you for bringing this over. And it’s nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” She was fumbling her words. Badly. And trying to act normal. Horribly! Why was she acting weird? He’s literally just a man! And she can’t even see his face! And did she just snatch the container from this man?

He looked just as stunned as she was at herself. He blinked a few times before responding back, while rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I’ll see you around.” He gave her a short wave which Savannah returned and she watched as he made way back to the other side of the street. He reached his front door and stepped inside. When he surprisingly turned her way again, the mask was off. And her stomach dropped at the sight of him. Savannah was fucked. She was absolutely fucked.

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#slutsareteacherstoo #atiya writes #terry x savannah #terry richmond #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond fic #terry richmond fanfiction #Spotify

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