When I got to the café, Nora stopped me at the door and insisted I take four days off because of the incident. She told me she'd already banned the creep I punched from ever coming back.
She also hired a new barista to cover the shift, which meant I suddenly had nothing to do but wander the city.
I was just casually walking past the metro station, soaking in the late morning haze, when my phone buzzed.
[I hope you're resting, and not wandering the city.] – Suga
How the hell does he know where I am? Does this guy have my GPS?
Rhea:
[I'm walking around the city because you persuaded my boss to give me leave. Where'd you get my number?]
Suga:
[Nora.]
Of course. Damn Nora and her soft spot for stoic men with soft eyes.
I didn't bother replying, but a few minutes later, my phone buzzed again.
Suga:
[Where are you in the city?]
I stared at the screen. Should I answer? Don't these idols have insane schedules? Why does he have time to text?
Rhea:
[Near the mall, next to the metro.]
Suga:
[On my way.]
Shit.
Why is he on his way? Is he going to lecture me for going out? My hand is fine, thank you very much.
While I stood at the corner, arms crossed and waiting, my attention drifted to a man trying to get someone's attention on the sidewalk. People avoided him like the plague.
He looked nervous. His hands shook, his voice trembled as he asked strangers for help. No one stopped.
I rolled my eyes and walked over.
"Excuse me," I said softly, tapping his shoulder.
He turned, startled. He was taller than me, skinny, with eyes that looked on the verge of tears.
"What are you looking for?" I asked gently and led him aside to avoid the rush of passersby.
"I-I-I'm l-l-looking f-for m-my moth-mother. I-I got l-l-lost." His voice cracked, hands twitching before he started hitting himself on the head in frustration.
I reached out and took his hands, stopping him. "Hey, hey… it's okay."
His speech stuttered and his movements were erratic—Tourette's, maybe. I'd seen it before.
"Where did you lose your mom? Maybe she's already looking for you."
He struggled to point across the street, toward an ice cream shop.
"Okay," I smiled, "let me help you."
"I-I w-w-was a-a-asking f-for h-help t-to c-c-c-ross b-but n-n-no one w-w-would h-help…"
He was near tears again.
"I'm here now," I said. "Let's go."
I offered him my arm and we walked slowly toward the crosswalk.
Yoongi had spotted Rhea a few minutes earlier but got caught in traffic. He was just about to call when he noticed the man beside her.
From his car, he watched the interaction unfold—the shaking hands, the visible stammer, the self-hitting. And then Rhea, stepping in without hesitation, her face softening, her hands reaching out like it was the most natural thing in the world.
When the light changed, she helped the man across, walking slow and steady, matching his limping pace as impatient strangers brushed past them.
Someone bumped her shoulder hard. Yoongi saw her glare in response.
He couldn't help but chuckle.
Once they reached the other side, he followed quietly and parked near the sidewalk, hazards on. He watched as they reached the ice cream shop where an older woman rushed out, wrapped her arms around the man, and began crying.
Rhea smiled and bowed slightly as she explained what happened. The mother bowed back, tears in her eyes, clutching her son's shoulders like she was afraid to lose him again.
Yoongi pulled out his phone and called her.
"Look to your left. It's me."
"The black car?" Her voice cracked slightly.
"Yeah. Get in before I get a ticket."
He watched her through the rearview mirror as she jogged toward the car and slipped into the passenger seat, buckling up quickly.
He handed her a tissue box from the glove compartment. "Here."
She took one, wiping her face.
"How can some people be so cruel?" she said, voice trembling.
"There are a lot of people who won't think twice," he said quietly. "But because of that… people like you matter more. That kid needed someone like you. And I bet someone watching you today is going to try to be better tomorrow because of it."
He reached out and rested a hand lightly on her head, fingers brushing through her hair in a soft, grounding gesture.
Rhea felt the sadness melt slightly beneath the warmth of his words. And the touch—the kind that didn't ask for anything in return—made her realize how rare and gentle this man beside her truly was.
Yoongi kept driving, but every now and then, he stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye. The world might be cruel, yes—but sometimes, it gave you a five-foot-tall tattooed angel just when you needed one most.