*WARNING* 

*Swearing/cursing ahead* 

My phone buzzes with another email. From work I can imagine. Probably another question from one of the magazine editor’s. Why was everyone I worked with so bloody incompetent?

“Can I get a name?” the barista asks, after I finish my order.

“It’s Hyejin.”

He nods and writes on the coffee cup. I go to the collection point. I start my message to next week’s issue’s sponsor and ensure that their page is ready to their expectations. My order is called out and I glance at my cup. It reads Hyemin. Of course. I can only sigh. It’s close enough.

When I go upstairs to extra seating, the only table available is one at the corner of the floor, with a couple of coffee containers on it already. It will have to do. It’s already a ty start to the day, might as well continue it.

As I continue to answer calls, even before I’m meant to start work, I hear a voice above me.

“Can I take this for you?”

“Sure.” I answer, without looking up.

I end the conversation with me telling the editor exactly how I want her column to appear. All of a sudden there’s brown liquid spread all over the table in front of me. I immediately jump up as coffee spills on my work trousers. Thankfully it’s lukewarm. I swallow down the scream of frustration.

“I’m so sorry!” exclaims the worker.

“It’s okay.” I mutter as I frantically wipe at the splashes, hoping it wouldn’t stain. At least I work for a fashion magazine. I can grab some spare trousers at work and change there. However, this is turning out to truly be a ty day.

I look up at the culprit and I’m met with a frantic looking woman who is utterly adorable as she grabs more tissues from the dispenser. Then, her eyes meet mine and everything is definitely okay.  

“What should I do? I’m so sorry.” she frantically says, wiping the dripping table.

“It’s fine.” I say, plastering on my most charming smile that makes everyone do what I say. “It’s funny how people buy coffee but they don’t even drink it. You wouldn’t expect a large cup to still be full. At least it wasn’t hot.”

She weakly smiles, although I can still see she’s rather flustered. I wonder what other expressions she can make. Especially on my bed.

“I’m really sorry.” she repeats. “Would you like anything?”

There is a lot I would like, but I can’t mention them. At least, not in a public place.

“No, it’s really okay.” I answer.

“Really I insist.” she says, as she bends down and wipes the floor. This position I like.

My smile turns into a smirk.

“Really?” I enquire.

“Really.”

I glance at her nametag as she stands up. A unique name to match with a special individual.

“Okay then, Wheein. I want your number.”

“Huh?”

“I want your phone number. I’ll text you later about how you can make it up to me.”

If someone could turn as red as Wheein is turning now, I’m sure they would explode. I find it so amusing.

Maybe this day isn’t going to be that ty after all.

A/N: 

A very short one-shot that I wrote while working on my novel in a Starbucks because this really happened! Well, replace Hyejin and Wheein with two males and minus the romance. Hope everyone is getting into the holiday spirits because I certainly am! Have a great Christmas everyone and please enjoy and comment :D