The scent is sweet and melancholy.
A bit like dying,
A bit like falling in love.
-Anonymous

Outside, the sun is descending into the horizon as the clouds waft around in the orange-coloured sky. Five in the evening marks the time when office workers and school students make their way home after a long day. Inside, Seungwan is entirely focused on Joohyun’s eyes, watching uncertainly as they waver hesitantly.  “Will you go out for dinner with me?” she asks again. “I’d like to get to know you better, if you don’t mind.” She raises her eyebrows and pulls the corners of her lips up in a smile. 

Joohyun averts her gaze, shy. This is what she had been dreaming of since they met last week, but she isn’t sure whether they are progressing too fast. What if Seungwan is only inviting her out as a friend, and not in a romantic way? But Joohyun nods anyway, slowly, gazing into those earnest eyes.

 Seungwan beams at her response, her face lighting up as if she just received the best present of her life. “That’s great! Is tomorrow night okay with you, or would you prefer another time?” She asks, whipping out her phone to schedule their date.

“Well…” Joohyun drags out her answer, “I think Tuesday night would be better. Maybe around six p.m.?” She smiles affably, hoping that Seungwan couldn’t read her face and unearth the nervous anticipation hidden behind her calm face.

“Ah, I see.” Seungwan hums in response, head bowed down as she types the details into the calendar on her screen, and Joohyun tries her best not to laugh at how obvious the woman’s feelings are reflected on her face. “I mean, after all, you’re busy, and I’m busy, so…” She bobs her head side to side as she mutters under her breath.

Pursing her lips to stop her laughter from exploding, Joohyun quickly lugs the laundry bag out towards her customer--dinner-date. “Here you go.” Seungwan tucks her phone back into her pocket and reaches for her bag. Joohyun belatedly realises that there are two straps on the bag that Seungwan pulls up her shoulders, so it now looks like she’s a coal briquette delivery-woman with a heavy load on her slouching back.

“Oh my gosh, are you sure you can carry that and ride a motorbike?” Joohyun asks, baffled, watching as Seungwan reaches for her helmet. “Isn’t there a law that says you can’t do that?” 

The blue-haired woman thinks about it for a few moments before shrugging, the laundry backpack shifting up and down with her movements. “As long as the police don’t stop me on the road or hunt me down, I think I should be fine.”

Joohyun walks Seungwan out of the shop and to the waiting motorcycle parked a few doors down. “Next time, take a cab instead,” she nags. “Imagine getting into an accident just because you decided to act tough and ride a bike with a huge thing on your back.” Seungwan rolls her eyes at the mother-like lecture as she tries to put her helmet on. Joohyun watches her struggle with the helmet for about two seconds before taking it from her hands and putting it on the girl’s head herself. 

As Joohyun leans down to buckle the helmet strap, she is extremely conscious of the fresh dough and spices that is Seungwan’s scent, of the proximity of Seungwan’s glossy strawberry lips, and unconsciously her own. The latter doesn’t seem to notice, however, as her mind is still half occupied with the thought of the deceased Park Mina. Joohyun pats the top of the helmet to bring her back to reality. “Okay, I’m done! Have a safe trip home, Seungwan, and… see you in two days’ time?”

The motorcyclist winks back suggestively. “Definitely. I’m looking forward to our date!” She gives Joohyun a little wave and zooms off. 

Once she vanishes around the corner, the older woman covers her face with her hands. Our date? “A date!” she crows to herself and hops around excitedly. “I have a date with Seungwan!”

*

Yeri sits under the watchful eyes of Joy as she is attended to by makeup artists and stylists. When she accidentally makes eye contact with the bored manager through the mirror, she awkwardly coughs and looks down. “Why is she staring at me?” she hisses to one of her close stylists, but the stylist has no answer to her question. She fidgets in her seat and wills Seulgi to return, hoping the friendly woman would accompany her in the dressing room instead of their icy boss.

“Hey, you, kid,” Joy suddenly calls out, and Yeri freezes in her seat. Oh no, did she hear me? Did I do something wrong? Questions run through her head as she tries to think of why the woman with the bobbed haircut is suddenly talking to her.

“What was your name again?” Joy asks as she takes out her phone. Yeri breathes a sigh of relief when the woman finally stops staring at her to fiddle with the phone screen.

“My name’s Yeri.”

Joy shakes her head at the answer. “No, no, I mean your real name.”

“Oh. Um, my real name is Kim Yerim.”

Joy watches