‘Hello you’ve reached 3rd Circle. May I take your order?’ Wendy injects the minimum amount of required cheer into her voice, prepares to input the order with her left hand and continues playing solitaire with her right. She knows that’s she good at her job and that she can do it one-handed. Literally.

‘Mhmm. One large order of Joy’s Devil Wings. Would you like painful, agonising or torturous?’

‘Sorry ma’am, painful is the lowest level of spicy available. It’s our minimum level of spice. No, sorry, we don’t have soy garlic or honey mustard, we only have spicy.’

Wendy inputs one order of “Large devil wings. Painful. Combo deal 2. Milkis.” into the system. ‘Your estimated wait time is 35 minutes. Thank you for patronising 3rd Circle. We hope that you enjoy your meal to the utmost satisfaction.’

The next card she turn over screws up her pattern. Wendy takes off her headset and sprawls herself over the keyboard with a groan. She hears footsteps that bounce cheerfully and then suddenly there’s an iced coffee right in front of her face.

‘Bad call?’

Wendy lethargically reaches for the cup, discards the straw on a nearby napkin, removes the lid, and takes a nice long sip. ‘No. Just… needlessly complicated. Do you really need such a creative menu?”

Joy tosses her hair over her shoulder dramatically, ‘It goes with the theme.’

‘You can’t build a fast food empire on obscure literary references, Joy.’

‘You’re just frustrated since you’re stuck in 2nd.’

‘Joy!’ Wendy hates that she gets the reference.

‘Right, anyways, you don’t have to take calls anymore,’ Joy says as she hops onto the table and sidles closer to Wendy.

Wendy nearly chokes on an ice cube. Her heart feels as if it’s fallen out of her ribcage, rolled through eggs, flour, breadcrumbs, Joy’s secret herbs and spices, and straight into the deep fryer.

She needs this job. Not for the money, but for Joy.

Joy, with her stupid literary references. Joy, with her outrageous menu ideas. Joy, with her constant supply of ice coffee and warm hugs and late night calls. Joy who has somehow wormed her way into her heart without her noticing until it’s too late.

This job brought them together and if she loses it, she’s going to lose Joy.

‘It’s a shame really, since you’re so good with people,’ Joy continues on, oblivious to Wendy’s distress, that or she’s ignoring it, Wendy can never tell. ‘We’ve got to move on with the times, give people what they want. As they say, “out with the old and in with the new’ and all that.’

‘I’m not that old! Please don’t fire me!’ Wendy launches herself off the chair and grabs at Joy’s forearms desperately. She ends up on her knees and feels her face and ears growing warm and knows that her eyes are starting to water. She’s wearing her extra crispy heart on her sleeve and she doesn’t care.

“I’m not firing you.’ Joy sounds dumbfounded. ‘How did you even come to that conclusion.’

‘You said I don’t have to take calls anymore.’ Wendy presses her face into Joy’s stomach to hide the embarrassed red her face has become.

‘And your wonderful, wonderful brain decided that meant you were fired?’

‘Yes.’ Cool fingers down the back of her neck and Wendy presses closer. Joy is really, really cuddly. And warm. 

Joy mumbles, ‘We need to talk about you jumping to the word possible conclusion all the time. But, no, I’m not firing you.’

‘I’m not being fired?’ The fingers still briefly before resuming their relaxing motions.

'You’re not being fired.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yea.’

‘So what was that about not taking calls?’

‘Stand up first, this is so bad for your knees.’ Joy slides her hands underneath her armpits and hoists her up to sit on the desk before stepping closer and guiding Wendy’s head onto her shoulder. ‘We’re moving on to the Ubereats system. So you won’t need to take calls anymore. I’m opening a new store and I want you to manage it.’

‘Oh. Ok.’ Wendy burrows her face into Joy’s neck and prays that she never has to leave. Of course, Joy has to ruin the moment with her stupid question.

‘Does this really mean that much to you?’

Wendy pulls back to glare at her and finds Joy avoiding her eyes. ‘Of course it does. It’s my entire world!’

‘That’s… a little sad to be honest.’ She feels Joy’s hands slide over her shoulders, feels her fingers interlock behind her neck. ‘You’re better than some ty fried chicken joint.’ She’s still looking away and though Wendy’s heart is the one that’s deep fried, she swears she hears Joy’s crunch.

Joy’s always been afraid of failure. And though her food venture has been highly successful, with more projected success in the future, she still thinks she needs to do better.

She hadn’t been talking about the store though.

Wendy sighs. ‘I was talking about you.’

Joy finally, finally looks up. ‘I’m your world?’

‘Yes. You’re my ty fried chicken Joy.’