“Once again I felt light-headed, but this time it wasn't from the scent of lilacs; 
it was from the scent of my own death.”
-Peter David, Sir Apropos of Nothing

A young girl, no more than the age of eight, hums a light tune as she bounces around her favourite bakery. In her cupped hands are three large eggs, and as she walks she takes great care not to drop them. Upon arrival at her destination, she places them down on the table gently, one by one. “Here, Mister Baker!”

“And right on time, too!” A pair of thick hands grab two eggs and cracks them simultaneously into a mixing bowl. “You want to crack the last one?” The girl grins up at the tall man in an apron standing next to her and nods eagerly. Giggling as she tiptoes to crack the egg into the bowl, he smiles affectionately when she successfully releases the contents of the egg from its brittle casing.

“Excellent!” He lowers the bowl down towards the girl so she can peer into the opalescent liquid adorned with three plump yellow yolks. “See that? Not a single piece of eggshell in there. Bravo, child!”

She beams wide as he ruffles her short hair, taking in great joy at his compliment. “Can I watch you bake today too?” she asks in her lilting, melodious voice. When he nods, she dashes off to retrieve a small stool to stand on. 

“Your daughter is very enthusiastic about baking,” the tall, rugged man remarks to his Head Decorator. “You should bring her here more often.”

“O-oh, is that so?” The decorator slaps an awkward smile on his face. “You know kids, his - I mean, her - interests will probably change in the future, so...”

The Head Baker laughs, a loud guffaw that echoes throughout the bakery. Clapping a hand on his co-worker’s shoulder, he points a thumb at himself proudly. “Like your child, I too was interested in baking since very young. My interests may have wavered, but look at where I am now! I think, with the right grooming, your child may very well take over my bakery when I retire!”

“Sounds good, eh?” He nudges the other man good-naturedly. “Oh, here she comes. Girl, are you ready? Today we make my special cinnamon muffins! I will teach you, then you can make them at home for your papa,” he says in his mild French accent, winking at the little girl carrying her wooden stool. As she sets up her stand, the tall baker waves his assistant away, all attention focused on the child next to him.

Neither the baker nor the small girl notice the decorator glaring at them as he angrily crushes the sugar flowers in his hand, pink powder trickling in waterfalls between his fingers onto the tiled floor of the bakery.

*

To clients, to strangers, Seungwan always makes sure to introduce herself as Wendy, a name she picked up while in the States. Real names are traceable and backgrounds can be digged up. Any personal information can, and will be, a liability, especially in her line of work. She doesn’t want to compromise another person’s life, especially after the last time.

And yet, here she is, grinning like a fool and blurting out her real name to the most ethereal woman she has ever seen. She inwardly groans; how can someone be so stupid?

“I’m sorry?” The beauty in front of her looks slightly offended. “Did… did you just call me stupid?”

“What?” Seungwan comes back to her senses and quickly shakes her head. “Oh, no, absolutely not. I was just thinking to myself out loud.” She waves her hand in the air as if trying to pull silly thoughts out of her head. “Um, what was your name again?”

The small, slender woman raises her eyebrows, her face devoid of interest. “I haven’t told you my name yet, but thank you for asking.” At Seungwan’s flustered expression, she utters a short snicker, and covers with a hand as she giggles, her eyes curving into thin crescents. “I’m just joking! My name’s Joohyun.”

“Joohyun.” Seungwan likes the way her name settles on her tongue, so she says it again. “Joohyun, what would be a good date for you?”

The woman’s face freezes mid-laugh, and her eyes widen in surprise. Seungwan stares into confused gold-brown orbs. “A-Are you asking me on a date?” she asks, her eyeballs shaking nervously.

“What? No!” The fierce exclamation shocks both girls, and Seungwan immediately starts regretting being the owner of such a loud voice. Lest Joohyun comes to the wrong conclusion, she clarifies it in a quieter, more controlled tone. “I mean, I’m not asking you out on a date, but rather, when I should come to