(

As soon as she places the candle on the table by the window, she lights it up. The cucumber smell isn’t so distinct, so she briefly wonders if it actually works. But there are no cries outside her window that night, and when she peeks, there are no cats.

When she woke up the next day, however, and went out to buy some milk from the convenience store across the street, she finds one of her elevator buddies petting a familiar cat near the entrance, handing her some bread and milk. The cat glares at Wendy as she passes by, gaze never leaving even as she’s about to enter the apartment building with the plastic bag with the milk.

Even as she opens the curtains and lets the sunlight in, trusting the cucumber candle and the scent the seeped into the apartment air, she finds the cat looking up and staring right at her window, hatred in its eyes.

)

…

Irene, Wendy learns, isn’t easy to read. Seulgi, Joy, and Yeri have mastered her and her mood changes, but Wendy’s so puzzled.

One moment she’s smiling warmly at Wendy, barely containing her giggles at her wide eyes and loud screams; the next she’s glaring harshly at her and scolding her for forgetting to put the batter in the fridge.

Then, after Wendy puts the batter in the fridge and makes sure she locks it—shop rules, always lock the fridge—she walks out to find Irene pouting and saying sorry.

Her second day at work, Wendy furrows her brows then assures her it was okay.

The next day, she shrugs then tells her it was her own fault, anyway.

Today, she laughs it off as she walks over to Seulgi, keys in hand. “It’s honestly just fine, Irene. You can lash out on me all you want.” She pats Seulgi on the shoulder, waking her up. “We’re going to be late for our Music class.”

“I’ll drive!” Irene exclaims, raising her keys.

Wendy frowns at her, hand hovering over Seulgi’s shoulder. “Who’s going to look after the shop?”

“Joy’s in the back, and I’m supposed to pick up Yeri from the high school anyway.” Irene takes Wendy’s keys and places them in the drawer under the counter. “Come on. You can play your playlist, if you want.”

“It’s not even a five minute drive from here,” Wendy says slowly, still too shy to make Irene drive them.

Irene smiles, and Wendy’s suddenly willing to do anything. “I’m going there, anyway. Come on, now.”

“I’m not coming to class today,” Seulgi says groggily, voice rough from sleep. She stares pointedly at Irene.

Irene looks at the clock, just a normal old clock with two thin hands and twelve numbers scattered around. Then she pouts and mutters, “It’s already the ninth?”

Wendy blinks, hand reaching down her pockets for her phone. She checks the date on the screen: September 4. “It’s still the fourth,” she tells Irene softly, hesitantly.

Both Irene and Seulgi look up at her. Irene smiles. “Yeah, I know. I said fourth.” She tilts her head and smiles angelically at Wendy. “Aren’t you running late?”

“Oh ,” she exclaims, jumping up and reeling herself back into the real world before Irene’s smile can make her weak again. She grabs her bag from the table and smiles at Seulgi. “See you later, Seul.”

Seulgi blinks owlishly, looking pained. She groans. “Yeah, see you later.” She stands up slowly, heels of her hands pushed to her temples. Then she groans, once more. “Ugh, I hate drinking.”

Irene only smirks at her direction before grabbing Wendy’s elbow and pulling her out the shop, shouting to Seulgi, “Be careful, alright? Don't forget to miss!”

“Don’t scream!” Seulgi yells, back hunching. She swivels, loses her balance, then points a few feet to Irene’s right. “This is your fault.”

“Is she hungover?” Wendy asks breathlessly, amazed at the tiredness in Seulgi’s face. She isn’t even wearing makeup. It's like she's human!

“Yup,” Irene replies, still holding Wendy’s elbow as they walk to the parking lot at the end of the street, next to Peek-A-Brew. “We drank last night after you finished the batter. She can’t handle her alcohol all that well.” She tuts. “I keep telling her to drink the hangover cure but she doesn’t trust anything Yeri makes anymore.”

She does a double take at the name. “Yeri makes hangover cures? She’s underage, isn’t she?”

Irene pauses, then blinks. “Yeah, we taught her so she makes them for us when we’re too hungover.”

Wendy nods, trying to ignore the burning around her elbow, flames flowing from Irene’s fingertips. “What was the occasion last night?”

“Joy’s birthday.”

She flinches backwards, far enough to stare incredulously at Irene but near enough so Irene doesn’t let go of her elbow. “Joy’s birthday was yesterday? I didn’t even greet her.” She blinks, mouth gaping. “You opened the shop!”

Irene stares for a moment, eyes indecipherable, then she chuckles as she shakes her head. “We didn’t open the shop yesterday. You just came in to bake.”

“Jisung was there,” she says, frowning as she tries to remember if Jisung was there. But he was, he was wearing a red shirt and it’s so vibrant in Wendy’s memory. “So were the elderly ladies.”

The older shrugs nonchalantly. “Jisung’s always there. There’s no one to take care of him when the others go to school. The elderly ladies are always there, too.” Irene’s mouth curls a little, in what Wendy can only assume is sadness. “They have nowhere else to go.”

Wendy doesn’t prod. It’s not really her place. But she asks about Jisung, because it’s Jisung. “Doesn’t Jisung go to school?”

“Jisung can’t go to school yet. He’s new around here, and new to the culture… he needs to be conditioned before he can actually interact with others.” Irene smiles at Wendy. “We can’t force the kid, Wen. Baby steps.” She stops walking, let go of Wendy’s elbow and leaves it cold. Then she opens the door of her car and slides in.

Wendy follows her, getting in through the other side. As she’s putting her seatbelt on, she asks Irene, “Do you always pick them up from their classes?”

Irene nods, starting her car. “Joy and Seulgi aren’t interested in getting licenses; Yeri’s still underage.”

“But can’t they just walk?”

“I guess you never had to take care of someone else the way I'm taking care of them,” Irene mutters softly, a bit amusedly. “I can never let them on their own. Their safety is in my hands.” She pauses, then smiles proudly. “No, our safety is in each other’s hands.”

She shrugs. “Your place is just a few blocks away from the university.” She doesn't know what it’s like having someone's life in your hands, as Irene so dramatically put it, but driving every day to pick up her friends? Even Wendy would get tired of that.

“When you love someone, you don't take risks.”

Wendy laughs. “No, when you love someone, you do take risks.”

Irene scoffs. “You're just too young to understand.” She backs the car out of the slot, so utterly attentive it’s beautiful. “When you love someone, safe is the best situation.”

Wendy looks away, feels her ears burning. “How do you know it’s the best when you’re too scared to take risks?”

“You’ll understand soon, Wendy,” Irene tells her calmly. “Risks are for the ones who don’t know any better.”

-

After that one time, Irene now insists to drive her to class every time, since her classes are in the late morning and she always has something to do during the late mornings—pick Yeri up from morning classes, buy groceries, talk to a professor friend in the university—and Wendy can’t complain.

Her second Monday working, and she still can’t say no to Irene. It’s not like Irene can say no to her staying overtime in the shop, helping out in every way she can, either.

Her second week working and Peek-A-Brew still sometimes gives her chills.

The shop has a few unusual customers. There’s Jisung, who’s always there. The elderly ladies, too. There are little girls who stare too long, little boys who smirk too mischievously. Dogs whose ears perk up every time Wendy talks about Canada with Seulgi.

There’s one petite lady who always comes in as soon as the shop opens, whatever the time, looking pained and dizzy. She’d always ask for the largest cup of black coffee, and Yeri always slips in some sugar and milk despite the woman’s claims of wanting it to be straight black. She’d always hum to herself a little after her first sip, and Wendy gets a peek of some kind of bubbliness in her.

And the guy who just parked his motorbike outside, wearing a leather jacket. He slams the door open, walking in like he owns the whole place. He winks at one of the elderly ladies on the table beside the door as he walks by, smirking.

Yeri grumbles a small ‘ing showoff’ under her breath beside Wendy, turning her phone off and placing it on the table. She looks up at the guy with raised brows. “What do you need?”

“My daily caffeine fix, of course, a little early today, though,” the guy says, not looking at Yeri and still smirking at some of the customers. His gaze lands on Wendy, and the mischief melts into something else. “You’re new.” He grins, and Wendy’s reminded of the wolf in all those Red Riding Hood movies.

“Her name’s Wendy Shon, our new pastry chef. Since, you know, the last one resigned,” Yeri tells him.

He grins widely, all shiny white teeth that look strong enough to bite off Wendy’s arm. She puts them behind herself just in case. “Is that what you call it these days? Resigning? I can never catch up to these days’ slang.”

Yeri throws a rag at him as he laughs louder. Wendy stares, confused. He looks about her age, but he acts and talks like a sleazy forty year old man. Yeri sighs. “Don’t mind him. He goes by the name Johnny and annoys everyone here for an hour every day.”

“I’m just gifting everyone my presence every day. This place is too drab and cold, it needs a little me to brighten it up.”

“It’s called classy, not like your dirty game center.”

Johnny’s eyes light up. He points to Wendy. “Come to my game center some time. We serve the best soda, and my boys are the best company. It’s a party every day.”

“Which means they don’t study at all and Taeyong’s about to kick them out of their place,” Yeri interrupts, pushing Johnny’s face away from Wendy.

Wendy didn’t even realize he was inching closer, she was too busy staring into his eyes and getting drawn in. “I’ll try.”

“Bad idea,” Yeri whispers to her.

Before she can ask, Seulgi pops out beside her and sneers at Johnny. “You’re here again. The usual?”

“Of course,” Johnny drawls, still staring at Wendy. But this time, he looks like he’s studying her. “How did you get this job?”

“Applied for it.,” she answers immediately, as if she can’t be a beat late.

“More like stalked me in class and begged for it,” says Seulgi, smiling sweetly as soon as Wendy swirls to glare. “She bakes Diabetes and we’re trying to get rid of Old Mary.”

“Old Mary’s immortal,” Johnny says matter-of-factly. “Woman’s a witch. Careful of your blood, Wendy,” he adds really slowly, her name sounding like a curse word from his tongue.

Seulgi sends him a glare that doesn’t last more than a second. She finishes his cup of coffee and pushes it to his chest. “Honestly, stop with all the bravado, Johnny.” She turns to Wendy with a smile. “He’s biggest dork there is, has a pet bunny named Bounce, and just does all that winking to annoy Yeri.”

“Why Yeri?”

“Because Yeri’s easy to annoy,” Johnny says, immediately smiling and looking much more like a puppy. “But you…”

“Me?” Wendy squeaks.

“Come to the game center sometime this week. You… smell great. My boys would love yo—“ he gets interrupted by a rag to his face, slipping down and exposing his frown underneath.

Seulgi takes the rag back. “Word your sentences better, John. And, no, you are not allowed to use her.”

“But she smells so great! So new.” He sighs kind of dramatically, tapping his clenched fist to his chest. “Everyone else’s scents kind of just mesh together now. It’s disgusting, because Old Mary’s scent is stronger than most.”

“We hunted for you already, John,” Yeri quips in, brows furrowed. She stands protectively close to Wendy. “No.”

Johnny scoffs. “Do you know how many of us there is? If you don’t let us in the woods, you need to at least hunt enough for all of us!”

“Stop hogging everything, then!” Yeri counters, arm now raised in front of Wendy. “Don’t.”

Johnny stops, eyes turn chocolate again. He raises his hand in surrender. “Yerm, you know I wouldn’t. I’m not like that. The only time that happened was with Jisung, and it never happened again. He’s young, you guys have to forgive him.”

“Your eyes, John,” Seulgi says with a soft, disappointed voice.

Wendy blinks owlishly at Johnny’s horrified eyes. “What about them?” Then she blinks once more and stares up confused at Johnny. “Jisung?”

“I’m so sorry. It’s just—we’ve got eighteen of us, Seul, and the younger ones are still growing. You need to let us back in the woods.”

“It’s still dangerous,” says a new voice, appearing behind the three of them. She catches Wendy’s eyes and Wendy’s suddenly calm, when she didn’t even realize her heart was racing before. Irene turns to Johnny. “I’ll have a talk with Taeyong about this, though. There has to be something we can do.”

Joy also appears, holding a huge bag that she easily throws to Johnny, who also easily catches it. “That’s all we have left. We were supposed to give those to Leeteuk’s group, but you can have it. Those guys always ransack the bar all the time for food anyway.”

Johnny grins, and suddenly he’s childlike again. It’s confusing. “Thanks for it, I’ll hide it so we consume them gradually. When will you hunt again?”

Irene looks at the clock on the wall, unintentionally leaning closer to Wendy. “We just hunted a week ago, but I guess I’m free sometime next week.” She looks back at Johnny and Wendy finally breathes. “They won’t be as fresh, though.”

“At this point, we’ll take anything.” He grins at them one last time, grabs his coffee, then runs out the door, jumping on his motorbike.

“Your gloves!” Seulgi yells after him. But the doors are already closed, and Johnny already drove off.

Wendy turns to Irene. “Hunt?”

“They only like fresh meat and the market’s too damn confusing,” Irene answers in a heartbeat, eyeing Wendy like that’s enough to make her believe her. “The woods is full of all sorts of animals. Deers, pigs, you name it. We happen to know how to hunt.”

It almost is enough, but Wendy remembers the meat in the mart right next to the ice cream, and says, “I can buy their meat for them. I know where the meat is. I wish they didn’t change the places again, though.”

Irene’s eyes turn cold, then they melt again. It’s crazy how fast they change. “I’ll let them know.” She claps her hands. “Wendy, you’re done with the batter and the girls and I have to go somewhere, you can go home.”

“Home? It’s still 11 am. I have class.” She looks around the shop, a few customers scattered here and there. “And there are customers.”

“Shop’s closing!” Irene yells, slapping her palm against the counter. The customers look up, and with the most uninterested expressions, they stand up and take their belongings, few of them taking their pets, and file out the place.

The elderly ladies stay, snacking on some biscuits that Wendy bought from the mart.

Irene turns to Wendy, and she’s cold once more. “We’re running late, Wendy. Go to class.” She nods at her, then turns and walks up the stairs, not looking back once.

Wendy turns to the other three, confusion in her eyes. “What’s going on? Was this actually part of your agenda for today? Close the shop early? And why did they—” she gestures wildly to the almost empty shop, “—all just go out like they weren’t in the middle of eating?”

Joy places a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s part of our schedule for today. That’s why none of us went to class today.” She pats Wendy’s shoulders. “And the customers know that we don’t have opening and closing times. They respect it when we close for the day out of nowhere.”

“That’s not how a business should be!” Her eyes are three times wider now, she thinks. But this is just so incredulous and she still feels Johnny’s eyes so near hers. “You’d lose customers!”

Yeri sighs, starts to usher Wendy out the shop as Seulgi grabs her bag and keys. “We’ve got the best brew in town, Wen. We won’t lose customers.”

“We don’t lose customers,” Joy corrects, arrogantly grinning. “No one brews coffee as magically as we do.”

Seulgi elbows her purposely as she hands Wendy her bag, smiling. “Go to class, Wen. Meet up with Wheein and Hyejin. How long has it been since you last saw each other?” She blows a kiss at Wendy and winks before closing the door—Wendy didn’t even realize they were at the door already—and closing the curtains, CLOSED glaring right back at Wendy.

She frowns. “How do you know their names?” she whispers into the closed shop. Only replies she gets are some rustling inside, a yelp from Joy, and the distinct sound of the back door opening and closing.

Irene is goddamn hard to read, but altogether they’re a math problem Wendy shouldn’t even try to find the solution to.

But she’s Wendy, and she doesn’t care how hard the problem is, she’d always find the answer. Off to The All Nighter, then.

A/N:

honestly, I'm guilty of rushing things a little here. I wasn't going to give out more definite hints until the next chapter, but I realized Wendy finding out what secret the town has isn't the plot, but the start. So, I did this instead.

This fic is going to be as "moody" as this fic's Irene, so it might get hella confusing.

Title's from Halsey's Walls Could Talk.

Comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for all the response and I hope you all read until the end. Have an amazing New Year!

thepurplewan