Again I see her shake her head. She’s trying not to think about something, I can really tell now. She looks up through her bangs, immediately grabs a rag and starts to clean tables near us.

We hear the gentleman speak up now, this time it’s louder than when he first arrived, my guess is he’s the owner.

"Have you had a break yet?" he asks.

"Not yet," I hear her tell him, "why?"

"When was the last time you were off?" he asks now, thinking.

The girls and I look at each other, amazed. We then go back to watch the interaction.

She laughs again.

"I told you, I don’t have a personal life. This is my life: work, work, work."

He chuckles, shaking his head.

"But you need to get out there, enjoy your life before it slips away, Young Lady."

Again we look at each other, amazed. This girl sounds like us, to a point. We work hard, yes, but at least we still get out and do things for fun. I look at Kid Leader again, she smiles this time. I see the gears working in her head, just as an idea pops in mine. She must be thinking the same thing, we both smile at the same time, again the American laughs.

"Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, then," he says.

I see her shake her head, "no, I’m scheduled to work until ten."

"I’m your boss," he says, pointing a finger and smiling, "and what I say goes."

We hear the two say together, making us, and the cook laugh.

She sighs now, saying, "if it gets you off my back, then fine."

He laughs now. I see the girl give him a hug, hug his daughter again, then she clocks out and sits down at a table. We continue to watch her. She finally looks over and we wave her over. I see Fany pat a chair she pulled up. I see astonishment go across her face, but she gets up and sits with us.

"What’s your name?" Sica asks.

Again she’s taken aback that one of us knows English, she’s in for a surprise. We’ve all been working on our English, too, thanks to our three members and some others.

"M-Missa," she stutters.

Some of the girls giggle, hands over their mouths.

"Nice to meet you Missa, I’m Jessica."

"Nice to meet you, too," she says, bowing her head.

"I’m Tiffany," she says.

"Okay," she says, confusion on her face, "so you two," she points to the two girls, "know fluent English. How, if I might ask."

They giggle.

"We like you," Tiffany says, " and I’m Korean-American. I was born and raised in San Francisco, California."

"I’m like her," Jessica says, pointing to Tiffany, "I’m Korean-American. Also I’m from San Francisco."

"Ahh," she says, realizing it now, "and I didn’t mean to sound rude about that."

"No, it okay," Yoona says, her English is accented still, but understandable, "we… un-der-stand where you come from."

I smile at the second youngest, nodding with approval when she looks at me.

"And your English is good, too," she tells her, smiling once again.

She giggles. I look the American over once more, black hair, hazel eyes with a lot of charisma, just like a few other people I know in the business, and she can understand the ones who speak with an accent as well as broken English.