11:04 AM – Itaewon, Seoul
The morning sunlight bathed the eclectic alleyways of Itaewon with a warm glow. Jisoo, global superstar, BLACKPINK visual, and self-proclaimed queen of comedic timing, was hiding behind a trash bin.
She peeked over the edge, trench coat buttoned to her chin, sunglasses low on her nose.
"Agent Chichu to base. Operation 'Flirt and Roast' is a go," she whispered dramatically into a finger pretending to be a walkie-talkie. "Target in sight. Lisa says he's a legend. I say he's a latte boy with a good jawline. We'll see."
She adjusted her fake glasses and stepped out with the swagger of someone who'd walked red carpets in Paris but now strutted into a small café like a villain in disguise.
The café's exterior was a curious blend of industrial metal and warm wood tones. A motorcycle stood proudly out front, matte black with gold accents. The name "Throttle & Espresso" was etched on the glass, bold and unapologetic.
She pushed open the door.
A soft jingle.
Low music played—not K-pop, she noted with the first jab to her pride. It was jazz. Actual jazz.
Behind the bar stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair, faint stubble, and rolled-up sleeves revealing strong forearms. He was cleaning an espresso machine with methodical precision, eyes focused, lips in a neutral line. Unbothered. Indifferent.
Jisoo blinked.
Okay. Lisa wasn't kidding.
She approached the counter and leaned casually, trying to summon all her idol charm.
"Hi there~"
He didn't look up.
Jisoo is flashing a bright, friendly smile. Her voice had a flirty edge, but it was smooth, carefully calculated. She leaned a little closer, watching his eyes. "I came in for the best coffee in town. I heard this place is special."
Gun didn't look up at first. Instead, he just finished wiping down the counter with methodical precision. When he finally did lift his gaze, his eyes met hers, but only for a moment before he looked away again, as if she were just another customer.
"Mm-hmm," he muttered, his voice flat. "Coffee's always special. What do you want?"
Jisoo blinked, her charm momentarily stifled. She recovered quickly, though. This was nothing.
"Well, I've heard you make the best lattes," she said, leaning in closer, her smile widening. "But I've got to admit, I'm more interested in you." She winked, but Gun didn't flinch. He didn't even crack a smile.
He paused, staring blankly at her as if she were a peculiar species he had never encountered before.
"You've got a good smile," he said indifferently, before turning his attention back to cleaning the counter.
Jisoo felt a flash of embarrassment but quickly dismissed it. He was playing hard to get. No problem. She was the queen of persistence.
"So," she continued, changing tactics. "What's a guy like you doing in a café like this? You seem like the kind of guy who's got something going for him. Must be busy, huh?"
Gun's gaze remained distant, unfazed. "I work here," he said simply, his voice devoid of enthusiasm. His deadpan delivery was almost impressive.
Jisoo blinked again, caught off guard by the sheer casualness of his response. "Wait, so… you're just the barista?" she asked, trying to make her tone playful, but her brain was already processing this unexpected turn of events.
He didn't even glance up. "Nope," he said flatly, "I own this place."
Jisoo felt her world stop for a second, her smile faltering as the weight of his words hit her like a ton of bricks. This wasn't the reaction she had expected. She thought she had this in the bag. She was the sweet, charming Jisoo. She had the power to turn any conversation into magic.
But no.
She was standing there, floundering, and Gun didn't even seem remotely interested.
"I… I see," she stammered, feeling her cheeks heat up as she tried to salvage the situation. "Well, I guess that makes you the boss then. Must be nice to have your place. You know, I run a pretty tight ship, too. I'm Jisoo. Have you heard of me?"
Gun looked up for the first time in what felt like an eternity. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, but he quickly looked away, uninterested. "Nope. Should I?"
Jisoo's smile slowly withered, her earlier confidence draining away. She had been expecting some form of flattery, some recognition, something—anything. But no. Nothing. She was just another face in the crowd, another customer in his café.
"No," she said, forcing a laugh, her voice growing a little shrill, "I guess not. Just thought you might've heard of BLACKPINK, you know? We're kind of a big deal internationally." She could hear the desperation in her voice, but couldn't stop herself. She had to make him see her. He had to.
Gun stared at her blankly for a moment before his lips quirked into a barely perceptible smirk.
"Nope," he repeated. "Should I care?"
Jisoo was caught in the glare of his indifference, and for a moment, she felt as though the world had tilted slightly off its axis. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She was used to getting attention. She was Jisoo. People recognized her. They admired her. This was new territory.
Desperation began to seep into her voice. "I mean, seriously? I'm Jisoo! From BLACKPINK!" She couldn't stop herself. "We're huge! You don't even have to know K-pop to know about us, right? We're everywhere!"
Gun's expression didn't change. He didn't even react to the bombshell she had just dropped. "Cool," he said, almost sarcastically. "So… you want a coffee or not?"
The words stung more than they should have. Jisoo's entire demeanor cracked, and she stood there, feeling utterly deflated. She had been so sure of herself. She had thought that the charm, the smile, everything would work on him. But no. The Gun was impenetrable.
She finally managed to choke out a laugh, but it was hollow. "I'll just have a latte."
Gun nodded and turned away, moving to make the drink without another word.
As she stood there, trying to collect herself, she felt a deep, bone-crushing sense of failure. She was Jisoo. The world's darling. And here she was, crumbling in front of a guy who couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge her existence.
Back at the Café – The Aftermath
Jisoo returned to the dorm later, her face a mixture of frustration, embarrassment, and confusion. Her bandmates were lounging around the living room, chatting and laughing, but as soon as Jisoo stepped through the door, everything went silent. They could sense her energy shift.
Lisa, who had been scrolling through her phone, looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Well? How did it go?"
Jisoo slammed her purse down on the coffee table, dramatically flopping down on the couch. "I swear, I'm cursed," she muttered. "He's… impossible."
The other members crowded around her, eyes wide with curiosity. "What happened?" Rosé asked, her voice full of concern.
Jisoo groaned. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."
"Try us," Jennie urged, a playful smile on her lips.
Jisoo took a deep breath, rubbing her temples as though she had a headache. "So, I went in there all confident, you know? Smiled, flirted, all the usual stuff. I even told him I was Jisoo from BLACKPINK."
The girls waited, hanging on her every word. "And…?"
"And he didn't care. He didn't even flinch." Jisoo's voice cracked slightly, and she took another deep breath. "He said, 'Should I care?' Like… seriously?"
Rosé's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "No way. He didn't know who you were?"
Jisoo nodded miserably. "Nope. And it got worse. He said, 'Cool.' Cool! Can you believe that? And then when I asked if he worked there, he deadpanned, 'I own this place.' Like I'm supposed to care about that!"
Jennie burst out laughing. "You're telling me that this guy didn't know who you were, and still didn't care?"
Jisoo slammed her hands on her knees. "Exactly! I thought I was going to die in there. He didn't even want to take a picture with me until I begged him."
Lisa sighed and shook her head. "I told you this guy was different."
Jisoo groaned and flopped onto her back. "I'm never going back there again. I've been roasted by a guy who doesn't even know who we are. This is humiliating."
The other two bandmates exchanged glances, their confidence still unshaken. "Well, if he didn't recognize you, maybe he's just a rare case," Rosé said, her eyes still sparkling with determination. "I'm sure I can win him over."
Jennie nodded. "Yeah. I'll show him that K-pop can't be ignored."
Lisa just stared at them, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "I swear, you guys are going to get yourselves roasted, too. But if it makes you feel better, I'll be praying to the gods for you. Good luck, idiots."
The café had never seen this level of divine presence before.
When Jennie Kim, the living embodiment of class, walked through the café door in black heels and an elegant beige trench coat, time itself seemed to pause for a second. At least it did for everyone except the man behind the counter.
Gun.
He was wiping a cup, standing like the quiet final boss of a slice-of-life anime, calm and dangerously chill, while some local indie jazz hummed through the speakers.
Jennie took a deep breath, flipping her hair with an elegance rivaling drama queens of old. "Let's do this."
ROUND TWO: BEGIN Jennie approached the counter with grace, dropping her sunglasses like an Olympic mic drop.
Gun glanced up once. "You want a drink or something?"
Jennie blinked. "Wow. Straight to business, huh?"
Gun: "That's what a business is."
If this man had a superpower, it was neutralizing confidence like it was a minor cold.
She leaned forward on the counter, flashing her killer smile. "You know, I don't usually come to small cafés like this. I'm more of a Paris kind of girl. But there's something... earthy about this place."
Gun stared, then nodded. "Yeah. Coffee tends to grow in the dirt."
Strike one.
Jennie chuckled awkwardly. Okay, fine. He's just not used to this level of interaction. Let's turn up the heat.
"I'm Jennie, by the way," she said, resting her chin on her hand.
"Gun." He didn't even blink.
She tried again. "Have you ever listened to K-pop?"
Gun: "I listen to grinding coffee beans. Sometimes traffic."
Strike two.
Jennie gasped in mock offense. "You don't know who I am?"
Gun shrugged. "You're someone who wants coffee. That's enough."
Strike three. OH MY GOD.
But before she could retort, a sudden wave of gasps erupted from nearby tables.
"Oh my god, that's Jennie!"
"BLACKPINK Jennie?!"
"She's so pretty in real life!"
In a flash, fans surrounded her. Phones were out. Requests for selfies. Autographs. Marriage proposals. Someone even handed her a baby to bless.
Jennie, like the goddess she was, handled it all with the charm of a seasoned diplomat. Smiles, cute poses, even a little finger heart.
The gun kept making cappuccinos. Unbothered. Unimpressed.
But then one of the more passionate fanboys turned to Gun with a deadly serious face.
"Dude. That's Jennie. Treat her with more respect. She's, like, the Korean Beyoncé!"
Another chimed in, "Yeah, she's a goddess! You're just a barista!"
Gun slowly placed the cup he was cleaning down. The café quieted.
He looked up with the gaze of a retired assassin who'd just been asked if his job was 'just killing.'
"I'm not just a barista." His voice dropped an octave. "I've fought in underground tournaments in Thailand. I've outrun police helicopters in Seoul because I accidentally broke a traffic rule. ."
He leaned over the counter, face calm but voice intense: "I've fought in death matches for non stop 10 hours."
He pointed toward the door. "You? You put whipped cream in your black coffee and cry over TikTok edits. Don't test me."
He stood straight again. "So unless she's about to enter a martial-arts deathmatch with me, I'm gonna keep treating her like everyone else."
The fans, meanwhile, looked like someone had kicked their golden retriever.
"You don't know BLACKPINK?!" the third fan cried.
Gun shrugged. "Sounds like a WiFi password."
Jennie full-on choked on her saliva.
Dead. Silence.
Even Jennie's jaw was somewhere near her limited-edition Gucci boots.
Gun poured her coffee like nothing happened. "That'll be 5,000 won."
She accepted the drink with a robotic nod.
Jennie's face turned crimson. "OH. MY. GOD."
Gun turned back to his espresso machine like nothing had happened. "Next."
THE RETURN OF THE QUEEN... WHO LOST Back at the dorm, Jennie entered like a soldier who had just lost a war she didn't even know existed. Her coat was slung over one shoulder. Her hair, slightly frazzled. Her soul, thoroughly wrecked.
Jisoo was the first to react. "Oh noooo~" she sang dramatically from the couch. "The great Jennie Kim defeated by a coffee stoic!"
Jennie collapsed onto the couch like a Greek tragedy heroine.
"He roasted me. And I'm not talking about beans."
Rosé leaned forward, intrigued. "Wait. You flirted, right?"
"Girl, I tried everything. Hair flips, winks, humble brags. Nothing."
Lisa poked her head out of the kitchen. "Did you tell him who you are?"
Jennie groaned. "Yes. He blinked once and said, 'Cool.' Cool, Lisa. Not even 'wow.' Just cool."
Jisoo doubled over laughing. "He treated you like an NPC!"
Jennie buried her face in a cushion. "And THEN his fans tried to defend me, and he went full action movie protagonist on them. I was ready to melt into the floor."
Rosé gasped, holding her stomach from laughter. "Wait—he flexed on his customers?"
Jennie stared at the ceiling like it owed her an explanation.
"He called BLACKPINK a WiFi password."
Lisa nodded solemnly. "This is worse than I feared."
Jennie turned to Rosé with a glare. "Good luck, Roseanne. You're next."
Rosé stood, flipping her hair with pride. "Please. You all just don't have my charm. I'm gonna win his attention and get a free drink."
Jisoo pointed dramatically. "The hubris! The foolish pride!"
Jennie mumbled into the pillow, "He grinds hope along with the coffee."
Rosé stood, brushing her dress dramatically. "Then it's my turn. The man will feel something."
Lisa got up slowly, walked to the window, and whispered to the sky: "Lord... take care of your daughters. They are idiots."
It was D-Day for Park Chaeyoung, better known as Rosé of BLACKPINK. She had watched her sisters fall spectacularly. Jennie returned with an expression like she had just eaten a lemon dipped in humiliation, and Jisoo still occasionally mumbled "he OWNS the place" under her breath like it was some secret code of defeat.
But Rosé? Oh no, Rosé was confident. Overconfident.
"I got this," she said as she checked her reflection for the fourth time before heading to the café. "He just hasn't met the right woman yet."
"You're gonna die," Jisoo muttered into her coffee.
"Have you learned nothing from our trauma?" Jennie asked, still recovering from the embarrassment of being indirectly powerbombed through the floor of dignity by a man who treated espresso like a sacred art form.
"I believe in you," Lisa said with a dead expression. "Also, I'll light some incense for your soul."
Inside The Café
Gun stood behind the counter, calmly cleaning a cup like he had in the previous two apocalypse-level encounters with K-pop idols. His aura was the same—still, unmoving, unreadable.
Rosé entered like she was walking into a music video, all soft waves and smiles. The sunlight hit her like a spotlight. Her outfit was casual but carefully picked, her voice sweet as strawberry syrup.
"Hi~ Could I get a vanilla latte?"
Gun didn't look up. "Hot or iced?"
"Hot, please." She beamed.
He nodded and walked away without another word.
Her smile twitched. Okay. That's fine. He's just shy. Or maybe really focused. Artists are like that, right?
She sat down at the counter and watched him work, then cleared her throat. "You seem to take your coffee seriously."
"I do."
Short. Clipped. Absolute.
"That's cool. I like passionate people. It's rare."
He handed her the latte without looking. "$5."
She blinked. Took out a ten and waited for him to say something—anything—but he simply gave her the change and turned to clean the espresso machine.
Rosé sipped her drink, gathered herself, and decided to push.
"You know... I've been told I have a nice voice."
"Okay."
"Like, a nice voice."
"Then you should sing professionally."
She blinked. Twice.
"I do sing professionally. I'm Rosé. From BLACKPINK."
Gun finally looked at her. Not shocked. Not even curious.
"Is there a reason, whatever the Black... Pink? Is it, matter to me? You're disturbing my peace."
She physically recoiled like he'd slapped her with a baguette.
"But celebrities visiting cafés usually make them more popular! Isn't that good for business?"
"I prefer peace and silence over popularity. I don't like celebrities."
Rosé clutched her latte like it was life support.
"You don't like... cele—wait, why?!"
"Loud. Entitled. Obsessed with attention. The opposite of coffee."
Rosé's soul evacuated through her nostrils.
Still, she wasn't a quitter. She was going to charm him if it killed her.
"So what's your story? You look like someone who's seen... things."
Gun took a breath, leaned forward slightly, eyes flat.
"Ex-fighter. Ex-rider. Now a coffee maker."
"...That sounds like a movie tagline."
"It's a life."
Rosé gave a nervous laugh. "Well... I also ride. Sometimes. For photoshoots."
"That's not riding. That's sitting on a bike with makeup."
She gasped. "Okay, rude."
"Truthful."
She tried again. "You're kinda mysterious. Girls like that."
"I don't care what girls like. I care that my beans are roasted exactly 14.2 minutes and that my milk is steamed to 60°C."
Rosé slowly deflated in her seat. Every comment was like being dunked headfirst into a cold brew of despair.
Her last effort: "At least you like music, right?"
"Only zen and lofi. Kpop are distractions."
"But... kpop is art!"
"So are graphs. Doesn't mean I want them in my cup."
Rosé stood up.
"You're impossible. How do you even function like this?"
"I make coffee. I serve coffee. I survive. That's it."
She left the café like she had just come out of a hurricane and gotten slapped by the aftermath.
Back at BLACKPINK HQ
She entered with the face of a woman who had aged ten years in ten minutes.
Jisoo immediately burst out laughing. "Sooo... how'd that go, oh great seductress of stoic baristas?"
Jennie tossed a cushion at her. "Was he still cleaning that damn espresso machine while roasting your soul?"
"He said he doesn't even LIKE celebrities," Rosé cried. "I thought I had him! I was the sweet one!"
"You were swept," Jisoo corrected.
"Wiped off the floor," Jennie added.
"Polished out of existence," Jisoo continued.
"Left to air-dry like a rejected dishcloth," Jennie nodded.
Rosé buried her face in her hands. "How the hell did you, Lisa, get him to help you?"
Lisa shrugged and said with brutal simplicity: "I walked into his café, alone, in the rain, around midnight. I looked like a soaked kitten."
The others stared.
"And...?"
"I asked for help."
"...And??"
"He refused me first but after sometime he offered me help from himself."
"That's sweet for him!" Rosé wailed.
"Exactly. He might be a rock," Lisa said, lighting an imaginary incense stick to the sky, "but he has enough humanity not to let a wet girl collapse in the rain."
She clapped her hands together in prayer. "Please, great espresso gods, grant wisdom to my idiot sisters. They flew too close to the cold brew."
"A... what now?" Rosé muttered.
"Fly too close to the espresso sun, and the crema will burn you," Lisa intoned.
Jisoo blinked. "Okay, I don't know what that means, but it feels religious."
"It hurts like religion," Jennie whispered.
Rosé lay flat on the couch. "He broke me. I've been verbally suplexed by a man with a milk thermometer."
Lisa tossed a blanket over her. "Rest now, comrade. Let the beans roast someone else tomorrow."
Jisoo snorted. "We should make a group chat. Call it 'Gun's' Casualties. '"
"Too late," Jennie replied. "I already made it."
Rosé peeked from under the blanket. "Did... did you add him?"
"Hell no! He'd roast the chat name. And we don't have his contact info."
The room filled with laughter, self-pity, and the bitter taste of caffeine-induced failure.
Somewhere, in a quiet café, Gun finished cleaning his cups and exhaled peacefully—unaware of the trail of broken pop stars he'd left behind.