Life gives you lemons; at least it gave you something. - AJR

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Namjoon was sitting on top of the bus station shed and let his feet dangle from the edge. He was rather late for picking the victim of today, but he had not been hungry all morning and had idled his time away on a sunny roof to watch the few clouds that dared to hover over the blue sky.

Namjoon was a spirit of mishap, or how he liked to call it, the bad luck bringer. Whomever he was physically close to would trip, lose something, be late or whatever bad can happen will happen. Humans called it Murphy's law; Namjoon called it his destiny.

Today he had picked on a young man in a suit whose blue hair had gleamed through the chaos of the capital like a fen fire. The hair and dress-up had been so eye-catching that Namjoon had not been able to choose anybody else, but that did not mean that the other people waiting here did not have to suffer from the delay of the bus as well. For ten minutes the timer had been stuck on one minute, but there was still no bus within sight.

Even Namjoon slowly became annoyed. His life was boring. He was constantly waiting for things because waiting seemed to be a thing which humans deemed unlucky. Thus, he should be used to waiting, but he still could imagine causing worse things.

When the vehicle finally arrived, he slipped through an open window and attached himself to the ceiling while he watched his prey pay for the ride. He fed on nervousness, frustration, annoyance, panic, and comparable stuff. The more frustrated people around him where, the more he had for filling his stomach.

He did not like it though. He would like to be a useful spirit, something people appreciated and welcomed. Like a matchmaker or a spirit of luck. This life was just too gloomy. Often people ended up crying once he was satisfied and he did not like to see people crying at all; it looked so miserable. Even worse was dying, but he did not want to think about that.

Banning those nasty pictures from his mind, he focused on his unlucky target. By the way the boy was constantly checking the time on his phone screen, Namjoon knew he was on the right track for nervousness and frustration. People with appointments where the easiest to feed on. And this blue-haired one looked like he had more than just a normal appointment. A date maybe, or a job interview. Namjoon would find out eventually.

His eyes momentarily wandered off to the little TV screen in front of his head to check the weather forecast that was displayed. Appreciatively he hummed at the display of thunder bolts and dark clouds. Perfect weather for him; today would quench his hunger fast.

When the blue-haired left the bus, Namjoon snatched his collar to attach himself to the boy like a helium balloon and let his weightless self be carried after his food. By the speed the young man was using to get to the subway, Namjoon was almost sure that this was a date he was about to ruin. The blue-haired basically flew down the stairs and ran after the train that was about to depart, although he could use the one in five minutes.

Namjoon was almost curious when the next mishap would occur and hoped that his presence would not cause the handsome dude to fall on the tracks (how unlikely that might be with the glass barrier). Just to make sure, he let go of the collar and distanced himself a little. Unfortunately that caused another guy close to them to trip and fall against Taehyung who had just tapped something on his phone, so that the device slipped out of the younger's hand, swept over the floor and through the glass door that had just opened for the arriving train, and vanished in the slit between the platform and the train.

Namjoon's stomach was doing somersaults at the feeling of being filled, just as much as his target's face was paling at such an unlikely incident. Oops... Well, why were they even built so slim? Back in the old days no one had panicked when their phone fell down because those things had been indestructible. Also, it was just a phone, was it not? Replaceable like all the other funny stuff humans used.

"Fuck," was the first word he heard from the blue-haired while the man stared at the small slit between the train and the platform. It was a rather deep voice, enjoyable to listen to. Namjoon wondered how it would sounds laughing. He often wondered how his victims would sound laughing instead of cursing, but there was little chance to find out.

When the train was leaving again, the young man stared at the place where his phone was lying, separated from the scratches of metal and plastic by thick security glass. However, most of the device seemed to be missing anyway, so Namjoon could not understand why the boy was looking like he wanted to jump the fence in the next moment.

With an ashen face, his food eventually sat down on one of the dirty benches on the wall (Namjoon really wanted to warn him about the sticky sport he was about to sit on but, how could he?) and stared at his empty hands. Namjoon sat down next to him.

"It's just a phone, dude," he said into the void and saw a dog's head turn. Those furry things were too perceptive for his taste.

The handsome boy sighed like he had heard him, and his face got some color back. As if he had made a decision, he stood up again, cursing at the spot his trousers had trouble getting away from, and began to wait for the next train. Namjoon was impressed. Apparently, he had found a bright temper today. Those were best to feed on; they could stand some suffering without going down instantly.

To Namjoon's astonishment, he never had been able to cause a subway train to be late. He explained that by the fact that the platform was too big for him to be close to every person, and if not everyone was unfortunate, the train was on time. Or maybe it was simply an inconvenience for the world to cause something that had a replacement five minutes later to be late. Or all the trouble that happened was only within the range of what humans deemed possible, and no one could imagine a subway train to be late. Namjoon did not know and he tried wanting not to know because he would get no answer anyway.

They boarded the subway train and Namjoon wound himself around a metal rail on the ceiling (Those were less grimy than the others.) while the boy sat down and just stared at the display that showed the stations, waiting silently and swaying with the vehicle. He was a cute one, Namjoon thought. Big eyes and a soft temper. If only he would smile.

But however nice it was to watch his prey, from the corner of his eye Namjoon could see a guy staring at an old woman's purse, so he distanced himself from the scene. Stolen purses where not to his benefit if he did not follow the person of whom it got stolen. The effect that would feed him came too late, so there was no reason to cause unhappiness for an old lady.

"Hullo," another creature that was slung around a railing said and Namjoon turned his head.

"Jimin," he said, smiling at the pink-haired spirit of lust. "What brings you here and at this hour?" he asked confused. Spirits of lust mostly could be found in night clubs or at house parties, karaoke rooms if they were desperate for a quick meal, but never in a subway train. There simply was no use for them here.

Or so Namjoon thought, before he saw the sleeping woman underneath them who pressed her legs together and sighed quietly.

"I was bored," Jimin replied. "And I saw you treating that feller there-" The small spirit pointed at the blue-haired, "-and thought that I'd like to see him moan and squirm."

"Ah," was all Namjoon could reply. "Well I would appreciate if you'd wait until I'm done eating, or else he might lose his private parts in some weird lustrous mishap."

"Sure," the pink-haired said with a shrug and curled a little tighter around the rail. "I'll be looking from afar."

Namjoon nodded appreciatively and swooped closer to his food again. The young man was still staring at the display.

"Next stop: Itaewon," the artificial voice said, and now some life came into the boy.

Namjoon turned around to gesture for Jimin, but the smaller spirit was already behind him. "Doesn't he look like a whole meal?" he asked Namjoon and giggled. Well, yes. Namjoon went after him to eat, so that was clear. But he had a notion that Jimin meant something different.

The blue mop weaseled through the masses of people, so Namjoon attached himself to the collar again not to lose him and Jimin grabbed his ankle to be pulled behind to the surface. Up in Itaewon, the boy looked a little confused at first, but then he took a deep breath and walked on. If Namjoon was not mistaken, his prey was counting streets in his head, on his way to find something, and when they halted in front of a nice little café, Namjoon knew that he had been right about the date.

"I'll stay outside," Jimin said his temporary goodbye while Namjoon floated into the shop after his food.

"A reservation on Kim Taehyung," his blue-haired friend told Miss waiter and was led to a table for two. So, Taehyung was the name. Nice to know.

From the face of that Taehyung human, the man was rather confused when he found an empty table. Even more so after a look at the clock above the counter. Still he sat down and ordered a coffee from Mister waiter. And again, the waiting began. But Namjoon could not complain. Sweet anxiety filled his stomach with warmth.

And when he was sure that no one would arrive and got bored of floating behind Taehyung, he simply sat down in the empty chair across from the boy and they stared out of the window together. Sometimes when watching people, Namjoon wondered why the world needed him. There were so many dark faces out there that he really saw no point in his life purpose. Humans did pretty well in being unhappy without him, so why were there not more spirits who brought happiness? Or maybe there were but they did not like big cities?

"What about my coffee?" Taehyung asked Mister waiter after ten minutes of silence, startling Namjoon out of his musing and causing the waiter to excuse himself with a deep raspy sorry before he hurried behind the counter to get the forgotten order. Weird man; he did not really look like he enjoyed his job very much. Maybe Namjoon should find him tomorrow and see if he was good food.

A movement at the window distracted him from Mister waiter. Jimin was waving at him, and after being confused at first, Namjoon saw that the other spirit seemed to gesture him that he was leaving with someone else. And that someone else was Hoseok, a matchmaker and a good friend of them. The smiley spirit was following a couple and apparently Jimin had decided that he was hungry for a snack and would leave with them. Namjoon gestured him to just do as he pleased because there was no point in keeping a lust spirit where no couple would form, but then the pink-haired seemed to halt in confusion, staring at Taehyung.

Namjoon turned his head with a frown but was equally confused when he saw a slack-jawed, wide-eyed man who stared at the couple outside. After a second, it clicked in Namjoon's head. Taehyung's date was out there with another man. Well, he would not say that he was sorry, but then again, his stomach did not give him reason to be overly happy either. Something was wrong. Should his tummy not be filling with exquisite hurt right now?

A weird sound made Namjoon twitch and when he realized what it was, it was his turn to drop his jaw. Taehyung was laughing. The damn dude was happy. How could he be happy when he was ditched?

"Your order," Mister waited said form the side and in the next moment something clanked and Taehyung's laughter turned into a hiss when the coffee spilled over his lap.

"Oh shit," the black-haired cursed and instantly grabbed a cloth to wipe the worst. "I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you. I'll bring you a new one."

But to everyone's astonishment, Taehyung just smiled and held out a hand for the panicking man. "Taehyung. And you are?"

"Yoongi," the waiter answered and took the hand hesitantly. "Min Yoongi. The next one's on the house. I promise."

Taehyung's smile grew wider and he took over the cloth to rub away on his pants while the confused black-haired walked off again. Namjoon did not understand what was happening, so he just stared dumbly. Had Hoseok come in instead of walking past?

"This... uhm... this is a Poffee. My own creation," the unlucky Yoongi waiter from before said when he placed a much fancier glass than before on the table in front of Taehyung. Then he simply sat on Namjoon, who swooped out of the chair to avoid that unpleasant tickly feeling when he overlapped with humans and frowned at the intruder who was ruining his meal.

"Poffee?" Taehyung asked, eyebrows risen. "What's in it?"

"It's basically a macchiato with peppermint syrup," the black-haired said shyly and gestured the blue-haired to try it.

Taehyung did, and judged from the bright expression on his face and Namjoon's rumbling stomach, it was a pleasant experience. "This tastes awesome," the young man said.

"This tastes awesome," Namjoon parroted annoyed. He could taste nothing.

The Yoongi human seemed very pleased though and even smiled at Taehyung. Namjoon felt like he was in the wrong movie. He was not a matchmaker. Frowns, please, tears and curses. He was hungry, damn it!

Like a huffy child, he stalked off and sat down with another couple, just peaking at the blue-haired from the corner of his eye. The couple he had squished in-between immediately started to argue, so that he was not even able to hear his pair of interest talk. Couples were awful to feed on, but at least his stomach was no longer hurting.

Two minutes later, the girl had stormed off and Namjoon was floating back to the table with his actual food only to watch Yoongi scribbling something on a piece of paper before handing it to Taehyung.

"This feels old-fashioned," the waiter said with a small smile and put away the pen.

"I like it," Taehyung replied with an even brighter smile and shrugged while his fingers were playing with the piece of paper on which Namjoon could see a number. Apparently, he had told that Yoongi about losing his phone.

"Yoongi!" the Miss waiter shouted through the store. "Move!"

The black-haired sighed annoyed. "Seems like work is calling. Quite literally."

Taehyung chuckled. "I'll text you once I have a new phone."

Yoongi's grumpy face brightened. Namjoon sighed bored. "Not a matchmaker!" he shouted into the void and a head turned towards him. Oh, another mishap spirit. He waved politely.

When the black-haired human finally moved away, a little bite of something indefinable pacified his stomach until they were out of the door. And it carried them all the way back into the subway tunnels and into the stuffed train. Weekend afternoons were a horror in the subway if Namjoon's stomach was anything to go by.

He squished himself into the corner of the door above Taehyung's head and looked around. Several other spirits were wound around rails above people's heads and some of them greeted Namjoon when they saw him. He could see Hoseok on the other end of the long cabin, but the matchmaker seemed busy, so he huddled closer into his corner and closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the constant trickle of food, a silent stream of satisfying frustration. Tasty.

He almost missed it when the blue mop under him vanished, but fortunately the feeling of losing that bit of something undefinable woke him up, and he grabbed Taehyung's collar after rearranging his senses and limbs. He really should think of something else than tagging along like a helium balloon. It looked stupid for his age. When spirits were young, they were taught this method because it was easy and they were not good enough at shifting their form, yet. But he was more than capable for other ways of staying attached.

Just when he was musing on how to wind around Taehyung, the boy stepped onto the street and the constant trickle of food became more, and suddenly it was like a four-course meal. Amazed Namjoon looked at the blue-haired. This was what he had come for.

Taehyung was frantically searching for something in his pockets, and given that his phone was already gone Namjoon was betting on purse.

"Fuck," the human whispered once again, eyes wide open in horror when he finally gave up roaming his body for the moneybag. A second later, he was looking like he wanted to run back into the subway tunnels. Namjoon shook his head. If experience had taught him anything, it was that when you're with a spirit of mishap, your purse is irreversibly lost. He waited patiently for Taehyung to fight out the battle inside his handsome head while watching the promised black clouds piling at the horizon. This was becoming better with every minute.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Taehyung suddenly shouted and Namjoon watched with a smile when long fingers joined the wind in messing up blue strands. Point break was about to arrive, it seemed. Maybe he should stop now and find someone else to get his stomach full for tonight.

But once again that Taehyung guy surprised him when he collected himself and started to walk. Amazed Namjoon watched him leaving. Strong guy, he had to admit and gave the wide back some weightless appreciative pats once he had caught up.

However, the longer they walked (or Taehyung walked, Namjoon was floating lazily behind him), the happier the boy seemed to become, and Namjoon's frown deepened. How could someone be that stupidly positive? Frustrated he held out a leg to trip the man, but all Taehyung did was stumble and giggle. He was giggling! What kind of idiot did Namjoon choose?

He never had experienced something like that. Never had there been anyone who simply accepted every bad thing that happened to them with a smile. Not even the masochists Namjoon sometimes had the misfortune to stumble upon where this resistant against frustration. Some higher might must be interfering with his meal.

A flash followed by a deafening thunder startled him out of his musings and he scooched closer to Taehyung, deciding that curling around the boy's neck like a scarf was his new favorite way of tagging along. Because even though thunderstorms were to his benefit, he was not particularly fond of them.

Much different so his meal, apparently. Once the first heavy drops were falling, Taehyung started laughing and tried to catch them with his tongue, looking like an utter idiot. Confused, Namjoon watched this silliness. And when five minutes later, the blue hair was hanging down in wet trails, and the wet clothes were sticking to the tall frame, and Taehyung kicked off his shoes to walk through the river the sidewalk had become, Namjoon was at a loss for words.

What was this kid? Why was he not whining and freezing and cursing his lungs out at his bad luck, begging people to borrow him a phone so he could call anyone to help him out of his misery? Why did he not look miserable at all? Why did he so stubbornly refuse to feed him?

A hiss and a bite of pain that filled his stomach made Namjoon break out of his little inner tantrum. And when he followed the boy's look down to the ground, he could see red tinting the water around his big feet. Well, that was fortunate. Finally, something bad enough had happened to wipe that awful grin out of that handsome face.

Cautiously Taehyung limped to a big flowerpot ahead and sat on the edge, and Namjoon uncurled from the warm neck to look at the wonderful disaster closer. Oh, yes! That looked like a nasty cut from a shard. Normally, Namjoon was avoiding hospitals because it did not sit well with him to cause someone's death by coincidence, but today he would gladly make an exception to get enough food for the night.

Hopeful to see a passerby who would call the ambulance for them, he looked around, but the place was deserted. Understandable, considering the weather. The rain became heavier and heavier, and warmth seeped into Namjoon's stomach when Taehyung began to freeze and hurt. Oh, this was perfect!

What was not so perfect was the sad face of his meal. As happy as he was for getting his fill, he really did not like crying people. With a sigh, he sat down on the hood of a car and mused what to do.

Should he leave now? Maybe if he left, someone would come to find this poor boy and help him. Torn between the enjoyable feeling in his middle and his work ethics, he kept sitting in his spot and just watched the boy cry quietly. Or maybe he was crying loud; it was hard to tell over the sound of the rain and thunder.

Just when he was about to give up for today and leave Taehyung be, a car halted next to them and the window was let down.

"Hey!" someone shouted over the rain. "Are you crazy?! You'll die if you stay outside!"

Namjoon knew that voice from somewhere, but he could not put a finger on it.

Taehyung helped him with remembering. "Yoongi?" the blue-haired asked wide-eyed and limped over to the car to stick his head through the window.

Namjoon almost expected the car to get a defect and cut Taehyung's neck off, but nothing happened. Instead the conversation continued and he wondered if something had happened to his abilities.

"I live close to here. Let's go there and get you something dry," Yoongi's voice spoke, muffled by the gushing of the rain.

"Sure," Taehyung replied, and the blue mop appeared again.

For a second it looked like the boy was hesitating and when he turned away from the car, Namjoon furrowed his brows. But what happened then was even more confusing.

"THANK YOU!" Taehyung roared into the rain, making Namjoon jump in shock. What was wrong with that human?

But the moment the boy grinned widely and opened the car door to slip in, it dawned on him. Did Taehyung mean him? Was he thanking him for ruining his day? Well, technically he had not ruined anything apart from his phone and his big toe. And maybe his stolen credit card... So, had he maybe... coincidentally... made someone happy? Like really happy?

Like a spirit of luck? Namjoon giggled hysterically. He was so shocked that he could only stare after the leaving vehicle and missed the flicker of pink on the backseat.

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