Chapter Text
Minho enjoys working at the café.
It’s the one place where everything makes sense, unlike the noise and chaos waiting outside. It’s warm and modern, plants in every corner, and music humming in the background.
The café is small but inviting, with warm light spilling from hanging bulbs and the faint smell of roasted coffee beans in the air. Pale wood tables and cushioned chairs fill the space without feeling crowded, and potted plants soften the corners. A low, modern playlist drifts through speakers tucked behind shelves, giving the place a relaxed, lived-in warmth that customers sink into without thinking.
The rush had already died down by the time Minho wiped the counter for the third time, letting habit fill the spaces his mind couldn’t. Working here might be boring sometimes, but it’s strangely comforting. The café often hums with 3RACHA music-Minho’s favorite group-so he always switches to their playlist when he can.
He hums along to one of his favorite 3RACHA songs.
He’s loved listening to them since they debuted a few years ago. They’re pretty popular now, and he definitely understands why-they’re insanely talented. He especially loves Han’s voice. It helps him relax even though their music is more noisy than soft.
Minho likes listening to music and low conversation while he works, the kind of background noise that makes the world feel far away. He likes it that way.
Simple. Predictable. No surprises.
“I need to leave a little earlier today. Can you handle everything or do you need more help before I go?” Hyunjin, his coworker, asks as he finishes wiping a table, hands on hips. He wipes sweat off his forehead. Minho almost feels bad when he sees the exhausted expression on his face after working all day.
“No, you can go. I can handle the rest alone,”
Hyunjin sighs with relief.
“Thank you, see you tomorrow,” he passes Minho and heads out.
Minho checks the clock. It’s 9 PM-one more hour of work. At this late hour, especially in the middle of the week, it’s already pretty calm. Right now only two customers sit at the far end of the café, sipping their drinks and chatting quietly. When he glances out through the big glass door in front of the counter, the world outside is pitch-black. It’s winter, and Minho really hates the cold.
As the clock inches closer to the end of his shift, he decides to slowly start cleaning the counter. He’s halfway through wiping it down when the door chimes and a blast of cold air rushes in. He instantly gets goosebumps. Minho doesn’t look up at first. Customers come and go, most without even making eye contact.
But then a low, strained voice says, “One iced americano and a slice of cheesecake, please," and something in Minho freezes-not just because of the cold. He straightens, heart stuttering, and finally looks up.
Cap, dark glasses, mask covering his mouth. Shoulders drawn tight, like someone trying to fold themselves smaller.
It takes Minho a single breath to recognize him anyway.
His favorite idol. Standing right in front of him, pretending to be no one at all.
Minho doesn’t know how to act, but he quickly mutters, “Sure. I’ll bring it to you when your order is ready,”
the idol nods and walks away, staring down at his feet.
As Minho prepares the order with shaky hands, he thinks. Should he ask for an autograph? But wouldn’t that be creepy, considering how many layers the idol is wearing, clearly trying to avoid attention? Minho didn’t think he was obsessed with 3RACHA, but considering how fast he recognized his idol, maybe he is.
He decides to act natural and professional. He doesn’t want to bother someone who clearly came here to relax with coffee and good cake.
Minho brings Han’s order over.
“There you go,” he sets down the coffee and cheesecake and smiles softly, waiting for at least a thank you from his idol-but to his disappointment Han doesn’t spare him a glance, still looking down at his food, face covered.
As Minho walks away, he hears a weak voice. At first he thinks he imagined it, but then he turns around and sees the idol looking in his direction-or at least Minho assumes so, since the dark glasses still hide his eyes.
“Sorry? I didn’t hear," Minho mutters, cursing at himself internally.
“I asked if you… could switch the playlist that’s playing right now? …Please," he mumbles nervously, unsure.
Fuck! The playlist!
Minho forgot he had 3RACHA songs blasting through the speakers. Now Han must feel uncomfortable. Imagine trying so hard to hide your identity but hearing yourself everywhere you go.
But Minho suddenly thinks of a stupid plan to make sure the idol doesn’t leave too quickly.
“Oh yeah, sure. I mean, I don’t really recognize this song and I’m not that into rap,” Minho almost facepalms. That is the biggest lie he’s ever told, especially because his favorite song is playing at this exact moment.
“So… you don’t know whose song this is?” Han asks, unsure. Minho can hear hope and relief in his voice, like he’s praying he didn’t just run into a crazy stalker fan.
“No idea," Minho’s eyes flick to the floor, then back up.
“Oh… that’s good,”
Minho isn’t prepared for what happens next: after checking the room, Han takes off his glasses and mask. Minho almost has a heart attack. He’s seen 3RACHA in person before at concerts, but never this close-and he definitely never talked to them.
“Thank you for the meal," Han says, a soft smile spreading across his face before he takes a bite of his cheesecake, murmuring about how good it tastes as his eyes go wide.
Minho stands there staring a second too long before quickly hurrying back behind the counter. Even faster, he switches the music to some soft pop.
While Minho wipes down the rest of the tables, he tries not to stare at Han, but he can’t help stealing glances. He’s been fanboying over him for years, and now that he’s finally met him face to face it feels unreal. But he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so Minho tries to treat him like any ordinary customer.
“Excuse me…”
Minho didn’t expect Han to suddenly be standing next to him. “I’d like to pay.”
“I’ve never seen you here before. Is it your first time at this café?” Minho asks out of curiosity. Why would his idol choose such a small café this late at night? Is it to avoid being seen?
“Um… yes. My friend recommended it to me. He said it’s quiet and cozy,” Han smiles shyly. God. Minho really adores that big smile.
“Then if you’re a new customer, you don’t have to pay," Minho says, and the idol’s eyes widen instantly.
“There’s no need. It’s really not a problem for me to pay,”
Minho knows that Han is obviously rich but he can see that Han is a little bit sad and exhausted. He wants to do something nice for him.
“I insist. It’s nice seeing new faces here. We mostly get regulars,”
he meets Han’s eyes. “And who knows, maybe we just got a new regular.” Minho scratches the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t just make a fool of himself.
“Okay… thank you,” Han looks at him, then glances down at his name tag. Minho prays his face isn’t bright red. “Lee Minho,” he reads quietly. He gives a small, hesitant smile that makes Minho’s heart stop. Han Jisung-his favorite idol just said his name. Now his face is definitely red.
“Uh… yes, that’s me," he clears his throat softly. “And you are…?”
he obviously knows, but he can’t just say he’s his biggest fan. He imagines Han running away in horror.
“I’m Jisung. Nice to meet you,” Han gives a small, almost imperceptible smile.