Chapter 3

Junmyeon was furious when Yena burst through the back door, exactly six minutes and thirty five seconds late.

She was planning to sneak in, grab an apron and then hurry into the kitchen and hopefully avoid her boss throughout all of that, but he happened to be waiting for her there with his arms crossed. Yena immediately zeroed in on the watch on his wrist, where the long hand was past the one. The other hand continued to tick.

“Well?” Junmyeon asked. “Any explanations, Kang Yena?”

Yena hadn’t thought of any usable excuse on the train, so she stood in front of him and tried to look anywhere in the room that wasn’t Junmyeon.

“I’ve said many times before,” he said. “Be at least ten minutes early for your shift, because when I say ten minutes, all of you irresponsible people are only five minutes early. You, on the other hand…” He waved his hand (the one with a watch) in front of her face. “Six and a half minutes late! That’s unacceptable!”

She tried for a sheepish smile. “Sorry?”

Junmyeon hmphed, unamused, and then his heels. “Hurry up.”

Yena winced as she turned to grab an apron. She couldn’t even imagine his reaction when she had to break the news that she’d have to leave early—she figured it would be best to save that for later though, when Junmyeon found another unlucky employee to target. Then again, that always ended up being her.

Around three minutes later, she’d pulled her hair in a failed attempt of a bun and then fumbled to tie her apron at the back. It had turned into a knot rather than a bow, though no one was going to notice or care, so Yena left it at that. She could get one of her co-workers to help her untie it if it were really necessary—the number one priority was not to piss Junmyeon off more than she already had.

Minseok was already there, taking orders when Yena shuffled behind the counter. If she was the mess, Kim Minseok was the perfect human being who managed to balance it out. She’d be ten minutes late, he’d been twenty minutes early. Junmyeon clearly loved him.

“Hi,” she greeted under her breath. “Sorry I’m late.”

“I think Junmyeon’s done the yelling for both of us,” he replied simply as he stuck another order on the counter. “Yoona’s going to start her shift late and then end late today, so it’s just us handling this for the next hour or so.”

“Where’s Heechul?”

“Buried his body,” Minseok groaned. “Thank god it’s not busy today. He said he left to go to the washroom, but I bet he’s flirting with the janitor.”

As if on cue, the back door swung open again, and Yena nearly faceplanted into the coffee machine.

“Speak of the devil,” Minseok muttered under his breath. “Brace yourself for the next four hours.”

“Actually, it might be three,” she said, though before she could explain, Heechul popped up beside her. It took all of her self-control not so slosh the coffee at him. He’d probably get first degree burns from it.

Ignore what he’s going to say, she told herself as she poured the coffee into the cup. At least there were only two customers at the moment—one already drinking coffee at a table, the other was waiting for their order while scrolling on their phone. She shot Heechul a warning glare, one that he never took seriously, before setting down the coffee pot.

“Go make yourself useful,” she grumbled. “Or I’ll pour that over you.”

“Is the coffee as hot as you are?”

“No more,” Minseok groaned from the cash register. “Go flirt with Junmyeon to improve your pickup lines, because they’re still terrible. Also, if the coffee were as hot as Yena, it wouldn’t even burn you.”

“Ouch.”

“Besides,” Minseok continued, “Yoona’s coming in approximately forty-five minutes, and we all know that she puts up with better than Yena or I do.”

“That’s forty five minutes,” Heechul complained. “Hey, Yena—”

“Not another word,” Minseok interrupted. “I’ll be the one pouring coffee over you soon if you don’t stop.”

Yena pressed the cap onto the paper cup of coffee and wiped the sides dry. Seoul’s temperature had begun to drop in the fall—Beijing had been painfully hot, but Beijing always was—and the wind was beginning to blow the leaves off of trees. Most of them had begun to turn into autumn colors of gold, red, orange, which would’ve been pretty if she had energy to appreciate them. She spent most of the time outside getting whacked in the face with fallen leaves.

“Right,” Minseok said, draping the black towel onto the side of the counter. “What were you saying about staying for three hours?”

Yena cast a worried glance in the direction of the door. Junmyeon was nowhere near sight and Heechul had decided to organize the coffee bags again, though she still felt paranoid about being overheard. Minseok was fine (she hoped), but Heechul would probably go around blurting everything she said if she ever told him anything.

“Orchestra practice,” she grumbled, wiping her hands dry on the apron. “Sehun texted me saying the conductor was going to skin me alive if I was late again—I already screwed up once in Beijing and nearly broke my cello—and if I had to chose between the lesser of two evils, it’s Junmyeon. He’ll just be cranky and maybe force me to make up for the hour I missed.”

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