Monday nights are generally slow at the bar Momo tends to, except for the few regulars who comes to destress from the hassle of daily life. Whereas her eyes are usually darting to the clock, anxious to get off work, they’re now darting to the girl cradling her cocktail at the far left-end of the bar.

“If you rub any more, it’s going to be a pebble, not a rock.” Jungyeon’s voice brought her attention back to the puddling ice ball in her hand. Momo sighs as she places the ball into a glass, restoring some warmth to her hands with a towel. “Haven’t seen her around before,” Jungyeon nods her head to the left, “Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“Why would I?”

Jungyeon turns her head to Momo with a mocking glare, “Because I’m your manager and I demand that you make all our customers feel welcomed.”

“Tss you’re the manager, you do it.”

“I’m not the one ogling at her.”

“Yah!” Momo smacks Jungyeon’s arm with her towel. Her less than quiet exclamation turned a few heads and incited a giggle from a certain stranger.

“Oh look, you already got her attention. Now why don’t you just walk over and strike a conversation with her already?” Jungyeon whips Momo’s behind with her towel, ushering her to the other side of the bar.

Momo grumbles under her breath before walking the other direction. Her annoyance dissipates the closer she gets to the other girl, overpowered by an uncharacteristic shyness.

“M-Midori sour.”

“I’m sorry?” The girl raises her head at the sudden comment.

“Your drink, it’s a Midori sour. Good choice.”

The other girl nods a silent ahh, “I didn’t know. I just asked the bartender over there for whatever she recommends,” her index finger leaving the rim of the glass to point toward Jungyeon.

“This happens to be the drink she makes the best,” Momo states matter-of-factly. Another nod of silent acknowledgement before awkwardness gloom over them. Momo’s lips press into a line as she pats her thighs, unsure of what to do or say.

“Tell her I said thank you, it’s probably one of the best drinks I’ve had,” the girl said with a smile.

Momo smiles back in response, eased by the girl’s gentle smile. “Well then you haven’t tried my drinks yet,” she rolls up her sleeves, finally feeling comfortable to joke around. She was awarded with a chuckle as the girl swivels back and forth on her stool, black hair falling off her shoulders.

“Maybe another time. I can’t exactly go to work with alcohol-scented perfume.”

Momo glance at the digital numbers near the entrance marking 8:38pm and raises an eyebrow. Work? At this time? She decides to save the questions, concluding that she shouldn’t pry and just nods her head in agreement.

“I haven’t seen you around before, did your go-to place offend you in any way? Please advise me so that I won’t make the same mistakes,” Momo said, half-jokingly. Despite her constant complaints about the long hours, she enjoys her job and strives to be the best bartender within a 20-mile radius.

“Haha I’m quite sorry to say that my go-to place is just fine, the only flaw being that it’s far and I can’t frequent it as much as I’d like.”

“Where is it at? Can’t be that far, right?”

“Barcelona.”

“Wha-Barcelona??” Momo widen her eyes, “Then did you move here from Barcelona?” The gears in her brain starts to turn, making sense of the slight accent in the girl’s Korean.

“As much as I would love to live in Spain, I’m actually a local.”

“Eh?” Momo tilts her head, face painted with confusion—a signature look of hers.

She tries to hide the crimson on her cheeks when she hears the girl mumble something along the line of “Cute.”

 “I live in Seoul, but I travel quite often