"Love me or hate me are both in my favor. 

If you love me, I'll always be in your heart. If you hate me, then I'll always be in your mind."

-William Shakespeare

I like to think that he feels this on a personal level.

Because, oh, god, he practically lives in my head.

Four times.

That was the number of times it took for her alarm clock to wake her up. Every day without fail, in the relative silence of an empty apartment, the loud riiiiiiiiiiing would pierce the peace and quiet in an attempt to wake its sleeping log of an owner.

There are four stages to waking up, Park Sun Young always liked to say whenever her mother would wake her up prematurely, demanding her to ‘turn off the thing already I need my sleep!’

The first alarm pierces the veil of sleep, signaling to the body that it will be waking up soon.

It used to be that Mondays were the hardest to wake up; Sundays were the days that desperate university students would cram their brains all the way till midnight and beyond, in the hopes of finishing their work before the next wave of homework came.

Park Sun Young was one of them.

Puffy eyes, throbbing migraines, and waking up to drool on her assignments…she had been through those during her semesters.

But not this time.

This time she had lots of hours to kill. Lots of hours to clock in her bedtime. Gap year was as relaxing as it was necessary; she wondered how many more hours in the lab she would have to spend, what with the stale air and sanitary smell of latex gloves.

Who’d knew that for a natural science course, Ecology depended on a lot of laboratory work? It was insane.

The alarm clock shrieked again.

The second alarm is to signal to the brain to wind down the dream, she explained as her mother rolled her eyes.

Sometimes you hear it in your dreams, and you have a kind of awareness that it’s time to wake up, but the dream hasn’t ended yet and you don’t want it to either.

The flower shop opened at nine in the morning every day, and in the two months that she was there, Sun Young had never been sleepy nor late, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

An ecology major, getting an okay part time pay at a flower shop; her friends would mock her if they knew.

For the third time that morning, the alarm rang.

The mass of blankets and pillows on the bed slid off the lump on the bed as it moved, a sleepy groan emanating from the depths of slumber as its owner was brought to life.

The third alarm gets you moving.

But only for a bit, because you know there’s the last one coming in five minutes.

The mass of pillows stilled, as a soft contented sound hummed underneath the covers.

Five minutes passed.

The alarm clock blared again.

A hand reached out to stop the alarms, ceasing the endless thrum.

Fourth stage complete. Voila! You’re ready to seize the day.

Park Sun Young pulled the covers off her head, pushing away the hair strewn over her face as she stretched, sleepy but awake. Her spine made crickle-crackle sounds as she twisted her body to the left, then, to the right, before stretching her arms past her head and falling back onto the pillows with a yawn.

Doesn’t it feel like a good day?

Of course it does.

She stared up at the ceiling as she felt the soft warmth of sunshine on her face, filtering through the curtains. She shut her eyes, basking in the morning glow, her lips turning upwards as she took a deep breath.

“Time for work.”

Thirty minutes.

That was approximately how long it took for Sun Young to prepare for the day.

Having packed her things the night before, all she needed to do was get a hot shower, dress, grab a bite to eat, and walk to the bus stop outside the apartment building where she lived, before taking a bus to town.

It was easier to get a seat at this time, since most of the commuter crowd travelled during the early morning rush, and Sun Young went to sit next to the window as she stared at the buildings that passed by, sneakily popping pieces of her bread into when no one was looking.

It’s going to be a good day, she thought to herself, smiling as she saw the fluffy white clouds floating in the sky.

The bus stopped short of the flower shop in Myeongdeong, and Sun Young hopped off the steps and strolled past the shops that were starting to open one by one.

She walked past a barbecue restaurant, a chicken joint, a shop that sold beancurd and soy milk, a convenience store and a cozy little café before she reached her workplace at the very end of the lane.

Bloom & Blossom Flower Shop, est 1993, it read, in simple cursive letters over a small nook that was practically overflowing with its namesake; flowers, in all shapes, sizes, and colors, covered every possible space outside the store. The mild fragrance of fresh blooms mixed together to form a sweet, and familiar, scent, making her look forward to another day at the shop with the two sisters who manned it.

One of them, Jung Soojung, was outside, wearing her signature skinny jeans, oversized shirt and apron, rearranging some flower pots as her ponytail swung side to side rhythmically. Although a year younger than Sun Young, Soojung had a face that seemed to exude a chic charm that attracted a majority of the single male customers, who would buy stalks of roses on Valentine’s Day only to hand them to her instead, to her chagrin.

Sun Young never received roses from random men, instead enjoying the absence of such things as she spent her hours at the flower shop where she felt most at home.

Who needs to have a group of fanboys when you can tease your colleague about hers?

Soojung stood up then, and looked to be deciding something, as was obvious from the pout on her face, before looking up just in time and waving Sun Young over.

“Five minutes early,” she noted, checking her leather watch, “As usual.”

“Of course,” Sun Young chirped, “Are those today’s deliveries?”

Soojung nodded, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s auto-push,” she said with a little frustrated sigh, “They’re sending extra deliveries to all the flower shops in the area, wanting us to sell these off as fast as possible. Our place is already full as it is, and we might be having even more deliveries soon; my sister’s been arguing with them on the phone for almost half an hour now, trying to get them to send the flowers somewhere else.”

“That’s terrible.”

Soojung shrugged in her typical nonchalant way. “It’s almost Chinese New Year; I think they imported too many and it was undersold,” she said, one of the velvety fuschia petals, “It’s a shame. You know what these are, right? Stargazer lilies. They’re really expensive, even in bulk.”

Sun Young glanced at the large pink flowers, nodding.

Ah yes. Stargazer Lilies. They’re called that because their petals unfurl, curling at the ends as though they’re gazing upon the sky. An oriental flower, it’s used to decorate during festive periods due to its bright color and size, symbolizing prosperity, limitless opportunity, and abundance, among other things.

She took one of the flowers out of the pot, bringing it close to her nose and inhaling deeply.

Ahhhh. Perfection incarnate.

She placed it back. “Such a shame. We throw too many good flowers too often.”

Soojung let out another tired sigh. “Oh, well. There’s nothing we can do about it,” she said, heading to the door, “Maybe you can just help me water them while we try to think of what to do.”

She opened the door, making the little iron bell above it tingle; Sun Young followed her into the store, where a woman’s voice was speaking patiently, past the jungle of bulbs, stalks, petals, and vines filling up every nook and cranny of the rustic store.

“…yes, Mr. Son, I completely understand, but as it is, I’m already dealing with orders and I am already expecting more deliveries of my own on top of this,” Sooyeon’s melodic voice floated in the air, “I truly wish I could accept them, but I’ll be causing more harm than good in doing so; feel free to drop by and take a look, you’ll think we’re in some sort of forest- No? Another time? Of course, sir, thank you for your understanding. Good day.”

Sun Young pushed aside a curtain of morning glory as she gazed at the front desk, where Jung Sooyeon, Soojung’s elder sister, was perched like a dainty little princess atop a high tower.

Even the desk was made of solid wood that had been part of a tree trunk once; everything in the store had a little uniqueness about them, a little splash of vintage and homely feel that instantly added to the overall ambience of the shop.

Completely opposite to her younger sister’s minimalist style, Sooyeon was everything a florist was assumed to be: soft-spoken, sweet, and one with her flowers. She was a walking encyclopedia of florist terms, and knew the scientific name of everything that was instore, along with the implied meaning of said plant, and she delivered all her words with grace and poise. In all the time Sun Young was here, Sooyeon never raised her voice, nor did she once stammer, or trip among the snaking vines.

If there was anything remotely close to a princess, Sooyeon would be one.

She even looked the part of a demure damsel, with her rosy complexion, her slender frame, and ladylike manners. Her blonde hair was always pleated, with a wreath of flowers on her head. She wore soft chiffon blouses with flared sleeves that made her look like an angel.

Today she was wearing a peach-toned dress with little flowery motifs lining her décolletage. Her skin shone, and her smile was radiant and dreamy as she waved hello.

“Ah, Sun Young, you’re here!” she said airily, “At least I’ll have another staff to tell my troubles to; Soojung’s been no help.”

Said sister scoffed from somewhere in the shop. “Unnie, she’s the only staff we have. You tell her everything you know anyway.”

Sun Young bowed slightly. “Morning, Miss Jung.”

“How many times must I tell you,” Sooyeon teased, “It’s either Sooyeon-unnie, plain unnie, or Jessica. Miss Jung makes me sound so sophisticated and old, although not in such a bad way.”

“I can’t possibly call you so formally-“

“Have you seen the flowers outside?” she asked, and Sun Young blinked.

“I, um…yes, Miss Jung.”

My manager has a very cute habit of speaking out anything that comes to mind; she changes topics like she changes the featured flower of the day.

That is to say, every day. But it’s alright.

I’m used to it now.

Sooyeon rested on her elbows on the wooden table, her chin in her hands. “Where am I going to send those?” she sighed, staring into the distance, “I can’t possibly give them away, nor can I throw them.”

An idea came to mind. “Maybe you could ask the malls if they’re looking for flowers.”

Sooyeon broke out of her reverie. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Malls?”

“It’s the lunar new year. I’m sure they’re in need of decorations. They might make hampers and such. Having a few Stargazers would definitely add the glamorous touch.”

Soojung appeared, her hands gloved as she held a bunch of roses in one hand and a pair of scissors with the other. “See, unnie, I told you to give them a call,” she said knowingly, casting her elder a smug look, “There’s a million malls here in Myeongdeong. I’m telling you, one’s bound to buy them.”

Sooyeon sighed, as if it physically hurt to think. “You know I don’t like to make calls,” she murmured somberly, “I feel so self-conscious.”

Sun Young’s hand shot up. “I could do it!” she volunteered.

“Do you want to look up directories and call strangers all day long?”

“I don’t mind, Miss Jung.”

Soojung groaned. “Let her, unnie. Not everyone’s a wallflower like you,” she jabbed, “Ooh. I just made a florist-themed pun.”

Sooyeon sighed again. “Oh, all right, what’s the harm anyway,” she murmured, getting up from behind her perch at the front desk just as the doorbell tinkled, signaling a customer.

“Call up other places too, while you’re at it,” Soojung suggested, already walking away as she continued to trim the stems of the white roses, “Like, even the nearby hotels. Tell them we’ll hand-deliver the flowers if they’re within a half-mile radius.”

“Gotcha.”

Sun Young went over to the phone, a brass thing with rotary dials instead of buttons. She looked for the directory, flipping through the different locations, and picked up the handset, placing it to her ear.

“Good morning, this is Park Sun Young from Bloom and Blossom Flower Shop.”

By noon, Sun Young had helped to clear off at least three quarters of the Stargazers, to the delight of her manager. She delved back to her usual tasks: assisting with the frequent watering of plants, dealing with collection of bouquets, wrapping flowers and helping customers choose a suitable bouquet for their needs.

She glanced at the clock, going over to the counter where Sooyeon was busy checking the inventory, ticking off box after box as she went through the myriad of herbaceous species that filled the store. For a store owner, she avoided much of the hustle and bustle of conversation, leaving Soojung to deal with customers while she dealt with logistical matters.

In that sense, they went well. Soojung was horrible with administrative duties, while Sooyeon preferred to stay away from social interaction. Together they trained Sun Young to navigate both, to much success.

Sooyeon approached the front desk, placing her clipboard on the surface. “Did anyone enquire about the Stargazers, Sun Young?”

Sun Young nodded. “I’m hoping one more would,” she said, “My mom works as a concierge receptionist at a hotel, and she’ll call me back when she checks with the top management. If they give the all-clear, I’ll bring the remaining flowers with me when I go visit her after my shift.”

“Top management? That’s strange,” Sooyeon asked thoughtfully, “I thought décor would fa