“You will be serving table one to four. Since it is your first day here, Seokjin will show you around before we get started,” The manager, Lee Hangyeol, rattles off as Jungkook nods. The man seems to have a sneer plastered on his face since Jungkook showed up.

“Yes, sir.”

“Is he always like this?” Jungkook asks once the man in question is out of earshot. His question has Seokjin snorting.

“He looks down on us, Jungkook,” Seokjin says. “We are the poor. We don’t belong here.” He gestures towards the grandeur of the high end restaurant.

The Gaon. A restaurant with marble walls and a carpeted floor, a low hanging empire chandelier in the middle of the floor just above the circular bar. They can see Namsan tower from where they are, the thirty fourth floor.

And really, they don’t belong here, among the rich.

Seokjin had informed him of the job vacancy just the day before. The popularity of the restaurant and the shortage of a waiter had Lee Hangyeol immediately hiring him.

“Thank you for this, hyung,” he adds despite the self-depreciating words. Seokjin pats his shoulder in return.

Jungkook heads off home at ten, a bag of food in his hands - borrowed leftovers. Thinks of how Jiwon will be happy after eating. And remembers how the boy had whined for chocolates last week.

The convenience store just along the rundown street is open.

Hangyeol had paid him half of his wage. Figures buying a bar of chocolate wouldn’t hurt. A toothless smile runs in his mind.

Just as he opens the door, a tiny body is hugging his legs. An equally tinier face looks up at him, doe eyes even wider than his own. The smile the little boy adorns always seems to tug at his heart.

“Hyungie,” Jiwon whispers. Jungkook really loves him.

He lifts up the bag and chocolate. Jiwon’s eyes get impossibly bigger.

“Hyung!” His right hand is already outstretched, eyes zeroed on the bar. Jungkook ruffles his hair with his free hand. “I also got food, Won.”

Jiwon lets go of his legs as he struggles to remove his shoes.

The lights in the living room are on, well, in the space they decided to put a table and small cushions to sit on in.

“Appa.”

The man is sitting on one of the cushions, papers strewn across the table. He looks up and smiles at the bag Jungkook holds.

Jungkook smiles too, albeit sadly. He had promised them to bring food and assured him not cook for them.

His father, Jeon Daewoo, clears the table and puts their dishes on it that he already had waiting by his side. Jungkook feels more guilty to keep them waiting.