CHAPTER SEVEN |Crass over class |PARK JIMIN

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Park Jimin chewed the life out of the burger (the third burger, at that) his canine flashed between slouchy tomato slice and freshly plucked spinach that insanely urged me to chomp down mine. I passed a surreptitious glance at my partner to walk the walk before the pile of dirty dishes began to drop off our table.

Uncle Mojo stared at him blankly until I tugged him close and whispered, "It's his third burger and second glass of mint cocktail. If you fail to take any action just because let-the-poor-boy-eat-first," I imitated the older's voice. "Then I'm booking a cab for myself."

My sheer determination was on the brink of exploding when he cleared his throat and did something to keep me glued to the seat.

"So, Mr. Park, how would you define a marriage?" the elder asked.

"Um, although I have taken this road of becoming a husband quite often." He drawled, "Buuuut it never really happened. Anyways, I picturize marriage like a train. The passengers sitting inside can't wait to deboard while the passengers out on the platform can't wait to get in."

Suddenly, Jimin laughed at his intelligence as no one entertained his joke.

Frenzied, Uncle Mojo pushed forward the black velvet folder on the tabletop ─── the cotton cover slightly shrunk in its whereabouts. I wondered what was inside. The restricted smile on his face suggested he was in two minds about the conviction.

At last Jimin's mouth stopped working, and he stared at us with huge orbs. "What's this? Don't tell me you are making me sign my death warrant?"

I replied with a hint of sarcasm, and finished my orange juice, "You don't seem like a manly lad to bear the responsibility of matrimony. If that thing is getting you scared." I directed at the untouched folder.

"Ah-Son. These are the pictures of Choi Molan. I didn't deem it necessary to bring her along since it's just our first meeting," Uncle Mojo reasoned like a salesman pimping a poor quality product to the customer to strike a sale. Here, Molan was not any cheap product but his precious niece for whom he could pluck the stars from the sky.

"That's indeed a better approach, Sir. One feels bad to reject someone on the face. Argh-- after all it's God's creation but we do want the best outta rest." He faked a hurtful expression, planting a hand on his chest.

I scoffed without giving him a moment to blink his eyes. "Hey, I bet your eyeballs will come out once you see her. She's not just any woman. She's my sister."

"Your sister. Exactly. Not you." The moment those words rolled out of his mouth, I felt a wrecking ball coming toward me at a tremendous speed and I couldn't figure out a way to dodge the attack. I tried to avoid his intense glare that instilled some sort of wrongful feeling in my gut. He then casually lifted the folder to get through its contents. I was super late to fathom he'd just insulted me and also led his liberal eyes to do the illegal talking.

Seconds flew by, and I asked, failing to wait for a second more, "So, you like what you see?"

He cleared his throat and minutely stared at one of the pictures he happened to take out from the plastic film. A frown creased his forehead as he was murmuring incoherent sentences, grazing his fingers at the photograph.

I dabbed on the table hardly. "What are looking at? Her shirt size?"

Uncle Mojo motioned a 'zip-it-up' action at me. "So, what's your decision, Son?" he asked softly, throwing his shoulder back as he rested his elbows on the table, fingers laced together in anticipation.

"Yep. She's kinda really-" He was literally looking a cat on hot bricks, struggling to get the right word for the mistress who had already won the hearts of millions.

The elder laughed and I had to join him cohesively and reluctantly.

Jimin finally put it down and confirmed, passing it across the table. "I'm ready to meet her. She has some kick-ass attitude."

Uncle Mojo's cheeks flushed and his eyes almost disappeared in a thin line. "That's my boy!"

I intervened to pull Uncle Mojo down from shooting up in the premature victory when he didn't even sputter the moot point behind Molan's axiom, "Basically, it's not a direct and simple man-meets-woman and fall in love story. The thing is we have to put up a little charade to grab her attention."

Jimin let out a single laugh and simultaneously snapped with all seriousness, another shock wave seemed to hit him hard, "Then what it is?"

"She doesn't like rich guys. So, we are gonna make you look like some poor stricken man temporarily." I snickered at the sight of how quickly his face turned to pale.

"Uh- okay. Only temporarily right?" he asked, extra cautious in hearing my next words as he leaned closer to me.

I nodded. "Only until she finds something admirable in you."

Uncle Mojo boasted about the man, "I knew early on that this boy has an extraordinary potential that is struggling to come out. You can easily pretend to do a meager job."

He hesitated at first and then just as I darted at him he asked, "What kinda meager job exactly?"

I drew in a harsh breath and closed my eyes while my fingers raised a steeple on the table. A good five minutes were spent on piffled talks and then suddenly words effortlessly ran out my mouth, "How are you with customers?"

"I mean I've never interacted with them. But, it's a simple thing─"

"Can you serve drinks?"

"Like what?"

"In a bartender's outfit?"

"It's kinda experimental and sexy, tho I've never tried a bunny outfit-"

"Mr. Park. I'm talking about a white tucked-in shirt, dark trousers, a bow tie, and a sash." I leaned back, rubbing my temples lightly. "Can you just for once ignore the images of girls popping like porn ads on fucking malicious websites!?"

Jimin shut his mouth dismissively. I think it is hard for him.

I did take a risk by not sparing a glance at Uncle Mojo who would drag me by my braid after Jimin's departure. What can I do after all? Park Jimin can't stop fantasizing about girls.

"At one of your clubs where you can easily tell the staff that you want to impress a woman. You will not feel guilty by doing this."

"But, how can you say that? When my staff will see me as bartender they are going to make me look inferior and-"

"How does tomorrow sound? I'll convince Molan to go clubbing," I asked Uncle Mojo, irrespective of Jimin wailing and flagging outright disapproval for sending him to an early grave.

Jimin's full lips made an O-ring as nobody chose to attend to him. He looked at our faces earnestly. "Hello!
But, someone should ask me-"

"Sounds like spicy noodles with poached egg," the beret head nudged his elbow toward me.

"Great!" I punched a hand in the air, surprised at how easily things had been falling into places.

"That's that's." Uncle Mojo checked the time on his dug-out watch with eyebrows touching his hairline and we both stood up, avoiding his gaze. Jimin raised slowly as he watched us bid him bye, and a few last words to end the day. "We had a wonderful time with you son. Now, hurry and get to practice."

"Here gimme your cell phone, I'll save my number in there." He picked his nose and put the phone in my hand feebly. A moment had passed, I smiled half-heartedly, giving it back. "Call me only if it's super urgent but not otherwise."

Hoping Taehyung didn't get a clue of this, I marched off with a depressing thought.

A/n

Gosh, I love this Jimnie. He's cute, sexy, and lovely. I'm trying my best to give regular updates to you people. But I guess I'm failing somewhere.

Don't forget to vote and comment ladies.