"Do you want this flavour or that one?" he asks the child in his arms, pointing to the said flavours as they pore over the tubs of ice cream behind the glass. They are at the child's favourite ice cream parlour, paying a promised visit of twice a week - once at the start of the week and once at the end of the week. Those two are the only time her dad would let her have ice cream. When the child points to another different flavour, he frowns, "We tried that flavour last week, what about this one? This one looks delicious."

"But it looks ugly. I want the purple and pink one."

"Hwayoung, a chocolate-coloured ice cream doesn't mean it's ugly. Look, it's crying because you said it's ugly."

"Dad, ice creams cannot cry. Stop lying," she replies seriously, earning a snorted laugh from the worker waiting for them to make their choice, who quickly disguises it with clearing . "I still want the purple and pink one. You can take the chocolate one if you keep on insisting."

He sighs, thwarted by his own 6-year-old daughter. She always replies smartly, and he wonders where she got it from. He doesn't think it comes from him, because he always loses to her. She could've gotten it from the other side... but he doesn't want to think about it. "Alright, then." He turns to the worker. "Can I have one regular cone of the double chocolate ice cream and one regular cup-"

"I want a cone."

"-make that one regular cone of the cotton candy ice cream."

He puts down his daughter, pays for both ice creams and they exit the ice cream parlour, Hwayoung excitedly the ice cream. They walk hand in hand, but he has to slightly bend down to accommodate his daughter's height, or else she will be lifted off the ground. Since he had received no job for today, he had spent time with his daughter all day, trying to fulfill every request she had; from feeding the ducks at the park - which resulted in them being chased around when one wanted more - to getting the cotton candy ice cream which quickly became her favourite.

He feels his pants being tugged, and he looks down; his daughter is pouting, mouth smeared all over with ice cream. Her legs are pressed together and she is slightly jittery. "What's wrong, Hwayoung?"

"Dad, I really need to go to the toilet."

"Honey, can you wait? We're almost at the cafe." He scratches his head; it's hard for him to bring his daughter to a public restroom - he can't follow her inside and he's worried something's going to happen to her if she's alone.

She is already running her small legs in place, trying to hold it in. "BUT DAD!" she whines. "I really need to go."

Knowing that there's no other quicker way, he results in lifting her up with one arm and putting her on his shoulders. After instructing her to hold on tight, he dashes forward, knowing that it will take them at least 5 minutes to see the exterior of the cafe building. He weaves in and out of the crowd, narrowly avoiding running into a pole as he's too distracted in trying to get to the cafe as quickly as he can. Her left hand is placed on top of his head, and he feels the melted ice cream dripping onto his hair, but that is the least of his worries. Even while running, he doesn't forget to eat his own ice cream, and as he practically flies when he turns into the alley where the cafe is, he is already munching on the last part of his cone. He notes that their car is out front, which means that all of them are probably inside.

There is a couple at the cafe, but besides that it's empty. Wooyoung is wiping the same tables over and over again, bored out of his mind, Yeosang is still reading the book he picked up yesterday, while Jongho is brewing coffee, one for himself and not for the customers. The only customers they have are chatting away happily, their coffee long drained, ignoring the person who just stormed into the cafe, who has a child on his shoulders and is looking like he was just chased by a rabid dog.

"We have an emergency; Hwayoung needs to go to the toilet!" He grabs Hwayoung's ice cream and gives it to Wooyoung. He doesn't wait for acknowledgement from the other workers as he disappears into the depth of the storeroom's darkness, intending to use the only toilet they have on the ground floor. He unloads his child from his shoulders and makes it past the door to the back, shouting something incoherent.

"Mingi is using the toilet though," Yeosang says, but he is already out of earshot. When he realizes that he cannot hear, he adds, "Well then, good luck."

It doesn't take long for him to emerge again, this time holding her like she's trying to fly before shouting, "Damn it Mingi my daughter needs to pee!"

"He's having a stomachache, give him a break," Wooyoung chuckles, eyeing as the father-daughter pair bounds up the stairs beside the counter, their steps fading. They hear the passcode to their dorm upstairs being keyed in then a loud slam as the door opens, and him once again exclaiming to the whole house that his daughter needs to pee.

Upstairs, Hongjoong is hissing as he smears salve on his face, where he got hit by the pack of sausages