Chapter Text
You stopped for a moment to stare at the bright, almost blinding Utopia sign that was stationed above the double doors of the restaurant. You took a deep breath of anticipation, mentally preparing yourself for this interview, and going over your questions again in your head, even though you had them written down. Finally, you made up your mind and entered.
“Excuse me, where is Choi San’s office? I work for the city's newspaper. I have an interview scheduled for this time.”
“Please follow me.” The woman at the front said and began walking you through the restaurant. She led you through the kitchen, seamlessly weaving through the chaos as the chefs worked to get their orders out. Even at this ideal time, Utopia was still unnaturally busy. She knocked on the door as you watched the chef closest to you reaching for ingredients. As he left his station briefly, you noticed he had a prosthetic leg, remembering what San had told you about his hiring choices.
“Ma’am? He’s ready for you.” The woman held the door for you, and you thanked her as you stepped inside.
San was sitting at his desk, trying to clear some of the papers. He flashed you a quick smile, and adjusted his wire frame glasses as he finished clearing a small space.
“Y/n, please sit.” He gestured to the seat in front of his desk.
You took out your recorder, notebook and pencil. “Do you mind if I record this?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.”
You flipped your notebook open to your questions, and looked at them, starting to doubt them, and wondering if you were wasting his time.
“I’m ready when you are.” Sans voice was relaxed, noticing your nervousness.
You gave a nervous laugh and turned your recorder on. “I’m sorry, this is my first time doing an interview. I’m an editor, and Seonghwa, sorry, I mean Mr. Park, hasn’t really let me do my own projects.”
“It’s fine. Lucky for you I’ve done my fair share of interviews, and I have a completely open schedule for the rest of the day.” San sat back in his wheelchair. “So, you’re on a first name basis with Seonghwa?”
You chuckled slightly. “Yeah, it’s a bit of an odd circumstance. I met one of my friends in my third year of college, and ended up meeting his friend, who was younger than us, and then I met Seonghwa as well. What about you?”
San tilted his head back thoughtfully. “Well, I met him after my accident...I don’t particularly remember how.”
“And when was your accident?”
“2018. It was a car accident. I was in the back seat.”
You froze when he said 2018.
“Do you have any recollection of how the incident occured?”
San smiled at you. “I’m afraid I don’t remember. You see, my accident did not only paralyze me from the waist down, but it also impacted my memory.” San gestured to his office walls, which were completely covered in memos and other sheets of paper. “Because of my memory loss, I’ve only been able to keep this place in order from writing everything down and with the help of Jessica, the girl who brought you here.”
You started to relax. “So, you had told me previously that you were a dancer, but because of your accident you decided to use your passion for food and open a restaurant.”
“Correct.”
“So, what inspired your passion for food?”
San nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I actually got it from my estranged best friend. He told me that he always dreamed of being a chef and owning a restaurant once he graduated college, but he could never tell his parents because they would cut off his allowance.” San laughed slightly. “So, instead he’s getting a degree in architecture, I think. At least, that’s how it was last time I checked. So, I figured he couldn’t achieve his dream, and my dream was out of reach, I might as well do all this for him.”
“And what happened to this best friend?”
“After my accident, we lost contact. It was too much for him to bear, I guess.”
“A lot of things revolve around this accident.” You said, while scribbling your notes.
San nodded again. “Yes. The accident has quite literally shaped my life. It has given me a major handicap, pun not intended, and changed my lifestyle immensely. If I don’t write something down, I forget it within two days, no matter how important. I’ve tried all types of treatments, but nothing seems to be able to get me out of my wheelchair. Over time, I was able to break my mental stigmas about my body and turn it towards a greater cause.”
“And what helped you break those mental stigmas?”
“Well, for one, I needed to stop trying to place the blame of the accident on people. Two, I went through a journey of forgiveness, towards myself, others, and the universe. Then, I opened this place up for people like me. I wasn’t always a wealthy restaurant owner.” He smiled. “Once, I was like all of my employees, struggling to find a job. If my physical handicap didn’t get in the way, then most employers would fire me over my memory loss.”
“So, what spurred you to action to kickstart this place?” You asked, your hand still scribbling.
“One day, I was just fed up with being thrown to the curb and misunderstood. So, I started working towards a culinary certification, and trying to generate my own recipes, while precariously balancing a job that provided just enough for me to live on. While doing that I also started Utopia, but at first, it was Utopia Catering. I got most of my exposure through social media, some of it coming from the fact that I was disabled, and some of it coming from the pictures I would post of my food.”
“So, when did you start earning enough from Utopia Catering to live off of it?”
“Well, it actually took a while. Even though I was earning, let's say, four hundred dollars off of a gig, a good one fifty to two hundred would go back into supplies for the next gig. So, I hired Jessica as my financial advisor!”
“You’ve been working with Jessica for a long time?”
“Yes. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have anything right.” San laughed. “She was also technically my first employee. She has epilepsy.”
“Were there times where you thought you weren’t going to make it with your business?”
San huffed, his eyes wide. “Of course! There were times when our conditions got the best of us, and there were times when we felt as if the financial world would beat us into the ground. It was tough being the only chef for a while at Utopia Catering, but we managed to get through it. Everyone hits rough patches. It’s inevitable. Life isn’t life without those rough patches. But what defines your life isn’t how many rough patches you hit, it’s how you deal with them and grow from them.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The article was published the next week, gracing the front page. Sales that week were higher than normal, Sans million dollar smile drawing in the readers. San had even called you that week to thank you, since all reservations had been filled, day after day thanks to your article. Seonghwa called you into his office that day. You entered tentatively, since the only time he ever called you into his office is if you were in trouble.
“Thank you Jongho, you can go.” He dismissed the intern, whose arms were now stacked with files.
“Congrats y/n.” He said as he passed you.
“Close the door please.” Seonghwa asked.
You gently shut the door, grateful for the frosted glass that hid your nervous face. You stayed near the door, but turned to face Seonghwa again as he started to take off his suit jacket. You felt your cheeks heat up as you watched his dress shirt strain over his upper body. He got up from his chair and sat on the corner of his desk closest to the guest chairs.
He cocked his head at you and smirked. “ Why are you standing all the way over there? You’d usually be in my chair by now.”
You startled yourself into movement. “Sorry, I was just scared that I was in trouble. You only call me here when I do something wrong.” You sat down in the chair next to him.
Seonghwa laughed. “You did nothing wrong. I actually wanted to congratulate you for the success that the article had.”
You smirked. “And?”
He gave an over exaggerated sigh. “ And to say that I was wrong, you were right.”
“Bingo!” You laughed at him.
“And another thing.” You notice Seonghwa’s cheeks start to turn a little red. “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to celebrate with me tomorrow night?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Really? You wanna do our usual?”
Seonghwa cleared his throat and walked over to his coffee machine and started brewing a new cup. “Um, no, actually, I was thinking something else...Something more...formal? Like, I pick you up, we’re dressed nice, we go out for some wine and good food...Something like that.”
You froze as you started to understand what he was implying.
He noticed your face and panicked. “I-it’s not really a date! It’s really just two friends celebrating a new success and better sales!”
He picked up his mug of fresh caffeine and raised it to his lips to drink it, but seemingly missed them when you said ‘sure’.
“Oh, shit, Seonghwa! Are you alright?” You rushed up from your seat to grab napkins from his coffee stand and started dabbing at his shirt.
He cursed. “It’s alright, I’ve got a spare shirt.”
He reached into his office closet and grabbed another white dress shirt to change into. He quickly unbuttoned his hot, stained shirt, his back to you. You turned around in respect to his privacy.
“If that’s all, I’ll take my l-”
The office door slammed open, cutting you off in surprise. An inebriated Wooyoung with tears streaming down his face stomped over to you.
You started. “Woo, what’s-”
“Who gave you permission to do this?” He yelled at you, thrusting the newest edition of the paper in your face. The smiling picture of San stared at you from the front page.
“Wooyoung, what are you talking about? To do what?” You were getting worried at his state.
“To do this! To fucking publish this! To say all this crap! Why would you fucking do this?” He screamed, and started to rip up the picture of San.
Hongjoong ran in, his face a worried mess. He ran towards Wooyoung and started tugging on his arm to pull him out.
“Hongjoong, what is going on?” Seonghwa asked him.
Hongjoongs voice cracked. “I’m sorry, he’s having one of his episodes.”
“I’m not having a goddamn episode! Stop treating me like I’m a fucking baby all the time! I don’t need you managing my life, telling me when to do stuff!” Wooyoung screamed at Hongjoong, trying to detach his hand from his arm.
“Come on, Woo, we need to go. You have stuff to do, remember? Studying to do... homework... We’ve got to go.”
“I don’t wanna fuckin go! I never wanted to study architecture in the first place!” Wooyoung was sobbing now. He stomped on the shredded picture of San and glared at you accusingly. “You had no right to do this! This was none of your fucking business!”
“Hongjoong, what is he talking about?” Your voice was slightly raised now.
Hongjoong just shook his head. “It’s alright y/n, you just didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what ?”
Hongjoong just shook his head again, tears rimming his eyes, and pulled Wooyoung out of the room. You and Seonghwa just stood there in shock as his sobs eventually tapered off as they left your floor.
“I think that you should go home for today.” Seonghwa’s voice sounded softly behind you.
Despair crashed down on you. “Seonghwa, please tell me what I did wrong!”
He shook his head. “I don’t know either, but I do know that you’ve attracted enough attention to yourself now. I don’t want anything else happening. Go home, y/n.”
You nodded and excused yourself from his office and gathered your stuff at your desk.
Jongho looked at you inquisitively. “What was that all about?”
You shrugged in confusion. “I have no idea. See you tomorrow.”
“See ya.” He said after you as you began walking towards the elevator. You checked your phone on the way down and your heart rate picked up again as you saw it was a text from Yunho. You opened it reluctantly and just stared when you saw what he had sent.
Y/n. I need you right now. Please. I don’t know what I should do.
I'M BAAACKKKKKKKKKKK! WHEEEEEEEEE!!!!! MORE CONNECTIONS AND CONFUSION!!!!! I'm so sorry about the long wait everyone. It took me a while to get the inspo to write this chapter, but it's finally here! Thank you for reading!
-OhmyJohnnySuh!