It’s been a very long day, Jihyo ponders. 

 

She has had to deal with about seven angry customers, one of whom was a woman with a hime cut who was completely enraged by the fact that there were no more peaches in stock as Jihyo tried to explain to her that they were, in fact, out of season. And that it was completely out of her control.

 

The people she meets in customer service never fail to amuse yet simultaneously tire her out. Right now, she wants nothing more than to go home, wrap herself up in her warm covers, and go to sleep. 

 

She glances at her watch: 9:58PM. Two more minutes and she gets to clock out. 

 

That is, until she sees the automatic doors fly open, and Jihyo sighs with such heaviness she never knew was possible. Nothing irks her more than when people come in right before closing time, and although she sees a woman that looks like she came straight out of the heavens, this was no exception. 

 

So, impatiently, she waits. She waits for the woman to go pick out whatever grocery she needs, and she waits for her to make her way over to the register without a care in the world. 

 

Jihyo tries to smile when the customer approaches, she really does, but her friendly facade quickly disperses as she sees the clock hit 10PM and she is still on duty.    

 

“Hi there,” the stranger smiles and sets down her items. Jihyo stares them down; 2 packets of jelly and another packet of brownie mix. 

 

Jihyo doesn’t reply, instead quickly scanning and bagging the items like her life depended on it. Which, it kind of did, because if this customer doesn’t leave within the next minute and Jihyo doesn’t get any closer to leaving to go home- 

 

“Not having a good day?” The customer asks teasingly, and Jihyo wants to so badly snap back at her and mention how, no, she isn’t having a good day, because by now, she should be in her car on the way back to her apartment after the hellish day she’s had at work, but here she is.

 

 

Jihyo closes her eyes for a second, and quickly remembers that she is a manager and tries her best to be a little nicer and more professional to the customer. It’s her job after all. At least the woman didn’t show up with a whole basket of groceries. That makes Jihyo’s job a little easier. Just a little. 

 

“It’s been a long day,” the cashier says truthfully, and immediately, without wanting to make any more conversation, she asks, “cash or card?”

 

“Card,” the woman replies, looking around the store. “I hope your day gets better for you. Or, well, your night.”

 

Jihyo hands the customer her baggage, and nods at her. “Thank you. Have a good night,” she says instinctively. The woman smiles up at her and yes, Jihyo thinks, she is pretty cute- but so is a good night’s sleep.

 

She watches the woman leave and instantly starts preparing to go home. She hopes tomorrow would be easier. 

 

/

 

“Oh my God, Chaeyoung,” Jihyo feigns annoyance, suppressing her laughter. 

 

“What? We both know I’m right.” The younger girl smiles. It’s a slow day today, considering the fact that it is currently peak hour and most working adults are on their way home and not doing some grocery shopping. 

 

“No, we don’t. It doesn’t make any sense!” 

 

Chaeyoung shrugs. “Listen. When a baby is born, they’re automatically 9 months old. It’s just how life works.”

 

Jihyo fakes an eye roll. She’s enjoying this way too much. “No, Chae, they’re literally 1 when they come out. That’s literally how the Korean birth system works.”

 

“Who’s to say they aren’t 1 and 9 months old?” Chaeyoung gives a toothy smile. 

 

“When will their birthday be, then? When their parents decided to-” Sana cuts in and immediately gets hushed by Jihyo. 

 

“I appreciate you for sticking by my side, Sana, but please keep it professional around customers.” Jihyo looks towards Sana’s register and notices the hime cut girl from the other day waiting to be served.  

 

Sana puts both hands up in mock defeat. “Yep, Momo is a customer and she bought my heart.” She makes a loving face at Momo, the woman in question, to which Chaeyoung gives a loud ‘Gross!’. 

 

“And you,” Jihyo points towards Chaeyoung, “Go mop the floors or something. We don’t pay you to stand around bickering about things that make no sense.”

 

“You don’t pay me at all,” Chaeyoung deadpans, clearly amused, but obliges anyways. 

 

And just like that, another work day is gone. 

 

Well, almost gone. Jihyo gets ready to clock out, considering it’s a minute to 10, but gets stopped by the sound of the automatic door opening.

 

“Not again,” the manager mutters, annoyance evident in her tone. She watches the door and notices the woman from last time strolling in without a care in the world. 

 

Jihyo stares. No, it isn’t because the woman is actually very, insanely pretty and couldn’t notice last time because she was too consumed by anger and irritation to actually pay much mind to her. It definitely is not it, Jihyo convinces herself. 

 

But instead, it’s because she will, yet again, have to clock out later than she’d ideally like.

 

“Hi,” the customer approaches with a toothy grin. This time, the only thing she buys are four small packets of rainbow jellies, and Jihyo raises a brow at the stranger’s choice of snacks but doesn’t question it. She has seen weirder, anyways.

 

“Good evening,” Jihyo replies, only focusing on the items in front of her.

 

“I’m guessing you had a smoother day today?” The woman questions, and Jihyo eyes her weirdly. 

 

A smoother day..? Jihyo ponders, until it hits her that the woman in front of her was referring to their last conversation. Oh.

 

“I did, actually.” She answers truthfully.  “Jobs like these are a gamble. It’s either you have the time of your life working or get the worst possible customers that ruin your day.” 

 

The stranger nods. “I feel you.” 

 

Jihyo doubts that. Anyone who has worked in customer service knows the pain of customers walking in mere moments before closing. She’s guessing the woman hasn’t spent a moment in retail. 

 

Jihyo packs her bags, and the woman pays. “Thank you-” she pauses, looking for the cashier’s name tag, “-Jihyo.” Jihyo does admit, her name does sound good rolling off the other woman’s tongue.

 

But Jihyo just wants to go home. “Have a good night,” she says routinely, almost like a machine. 

 

The woman’s smile should’ve blinded her if she weren’t suddenly overcome with tiredness, and so she hastily clocks out and closes the store once the customer finally leaves.  

 

/

 

Jihyo’s only principle when working is: be nice to all customers.

 

But sometimes, that can prove itself to be challenging. 

 

The third time Jelly Girl walks into the store two minutes before closing, Jihyo really wants to let her know about common decency. She bites back her tongue, though, when she sees Jelly Girl approach the counter with only a bar of chocolate. 

 

“No jellies today?” Jihyo can’t stop herself from saying, and Jelly Girl looks surprised. 

 

Her features turn soft in a second. “You remembered.” She giggles. 

 

And no, Jihyo tries convincing herself, it isn’t a cute sound. 

 

“Well, it is kind of hard to forget you,” Jihyo sarcastically smiles, trying to mask her thoughts. 

 

Whether Jelly Girl actually takes that the wrong way or just deliberately ignores the double meaning in Jihyo’s words, Jihyo doesn’t know. So she winks, “Flirting with a customer on the job? Not a good move, Jihyo.”

 

Jihyo only stares, because what is with her. 

 

“Staring, too? You’re getting bold, Miss Cashier.” Jihyo feels a blush crawl up her neck, and she desperately tries to mask it and just wants to cower away. Has she mentioned she wants to go home?

 

Disregarding the fact that she literally calls the customer in front of her Jelly Girl, she inquires, “Oh, so we’re using nicknames now?”

 

“Unless you don’t mind me calling you tonight?” The woman beams with all the confidence in the world.   

 

Jihyo just sighs, because she set herself up for that one.

 

“Just kidding. Goodnight, Jihyo,” the woman leaves after paying. Jihyo goes home, trying not to think too much about the nuisance that is Jelly Girl and how enticing her laugh is, but she fails miserably. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t find her as annoying as her brain previously decided.  

 

/

 

The fourth time, Jihyo does snap. She tries, but she really can’t hold herself back.

 

It isn’t anything personal. She’s just had an extremely bad encounter with a customer earlier that day that ruined her mood for the entirety of her shift.  

 

“I’m sorry. I know we’re open ‘til 10 but do you really have to come in right before we close?”

 

The woman looks taken aback. “It’s the most convenient time for me.”  

 

“Really?” Jihyo finds that truly hard to believe. The girl’s face falls a bit, and Jihyo can’t help but feel the slightest hint of guilt. She is still technically on the job, and the girl barely ever gets more than three items, so it shouldn’t bother her that much. It’s unfair of Jihyo to take out her repressed anger on this customer. 

 

But her actions are also very inconvenient for her. The time she spends serving this customer could and should be used for closing the store.

 

The woman stays silent, which is unusual for her since she’s been the lively one in the past three times they’ve held a conversation. 

 

Jihyo hands the woman her bag, fatigue evident in her eyes, and mutters a small Goodnight. The woman takes it wordlessly and makes her way outside.

 

And really, Jihyo shouldn’t be feeling as bad as how she feels now. She can’t help but feel the guilt pile up inside her. But it’s already been done, Jihyo thinks. She can’t reverse it now. 

 

/

 

The next few weeks go by uneventfully. 

 

Jihyo especially notices a quietness during her night shifts. As the clock nears 10, she fully expects someone to come barging through the entrance. Someone with vibrant eyes and a face of someone from the stars with an intriguing personality. In the back of her mind, she can’t help but wait for the woman to show up with her stupid jellies and flirt with Jihyo to get under her skin and get her all worked up but deep down inside, Jihyo knows that she doesn’t mind it. 

 

But she never comes. 

 

Maybe the days of Jelly Girl are over, Jihyo ponders. She doesn’t know how she should feel about that.

 

Should she feel relieved? That barely anyone is bothering her routine now? Or guilt? Knowing Jihyo is the one who deliberately pushed her away?

 

It’s 9:55. Jihyo waits. 

 

The automatic door opens, and Jihyo’s eyes rush towards the door. But unless Jelly Girl’s body got warped into that of an elderly man, then it isn’t her. And Jihyo, yet again, feels annoyance. 

 

/

 

“Am I a bad manager?” Jihyo asks one day during her break. Normally, she’d be confident in her abilities to lead. But lately, her insecurities have been stacking up.

 

“What happened to you?” Sana eyes her. “Park Jihyo would never ask me that.”

 

“I’m just… curious. What do you think of me? As a leader?”

 

Sana pauses for a short while, contemplating her answer. “I think you’re the best leader there is. You’re more than capable of leading a small group of workers, and are a perfect example to others out there. I don’t know what happened to you, but you shouldn’t let that get in the way of your confidence and inspiration as a leader.”

 

Jihyo doesn’t mention the Jelly Girl incident. At this point, she doesn’t even believe it happened. But she’s thankful for Sana either way. 

 

/

 

It’s barely even nine o’clock when Jelly Girl shows up again. And Jihyo is surprised, to say the least. She feels weird, almost like she doesn’t deserve to see her again. 

 

Jihyo is sure the woman is going to avoid her by going to another register, but thankfully, the line at Chaeyoung’s is much longer than her own. She’s sure the woman would want to be out of the store as quickly as she came in, so she inevitably walks over to Jihyo’s counter.

 

“Hi, how are you?” Jihyo asks the moment she’s in ear shot. She smiles when she notices the familiar packets of jelly on her conveyor belt. 

 

“I’m okay, thank you.” She doesn’t show her patented bunny teeth smile. She starts up again, “Look, Jihyo… I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused you by showing up here late.” She avoids eye contact with the cashier.

 

Jihyo stares at her, dumbfounded. “No, why are you apologising? I should be the one apologising. I was way out of line, and it was unprofessional of me to snap at you. I’m sorry. You can come back anytime.” She hopes her smile is genuine enough for her words to get through to the woman. 

 

“That’s good to know,” the woman sheepishly replies. 

 

“And, if it makes you feel any better, I have been anticipating your arrival ever since you left.” Jihyo looks down, slowly bagging the customer’s snacks.

 

“Got a crush already, Jihyo?” The woman smirks, and Jihyo rolls her eyes. She’s reminded, yet again, of her nuisance, but deep down is thankful that the woman reverted back to her usual self. 

 

“How could I have a crush on you if I don’t even know your name? I’ve just been calling you Jelly Girl because of your damn jellies.”

 

“Nayeon,” The woman reveals with a grin. “But Jelly Girl fits, too. It’s cute.”

 

“Just like its owner,” Jihyo blurts out, and widens her eyes. She really doesn’t know when her feelings blossomed. 

 

Nayeon finds it hard to suppress her amusement (and shock). They’re silent when Nayeon pays, and she leaves with a shy, “goodbye.” 

 

Jihyo wonders when Nayeon started being something she looked forward to everyday. But she does know one thing; she is anticipating their next meeting. 

 

But right now, she just wants to go home.    

 

/

 

Jihyo uncharacteristically lights up when a certain someone walks through the automatic doors at exactly 9:58PM. Her eyes meet Nayeon’s, and she smiles bashfully.

 

When Nayeon walks to the Jihyo’s cash register, Jihyo blurts out a question before Nayeon can even load her items on the conveyor belt. “Do you want to come home with me tonight?”

 

Once the words are out, she realises just how inappropriate they sound and internally scolds herself while Nayeon looks as entertained as ever, unexpecting of Jihyo’s bluntness in the slightest. 

 

“I- I mean so I can make you dinner or something. If you want.” She quickly clarifies her words. 

 

Nayeon holds her eye contact, and Jihyo’s heart beats heavily through her chest. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. Maybe she was too forward. They don’t even know each other properly-

 

“Sure,” Nayeon beams. “Although you didn’t have to clarify yourself. The offer was fine as is,” she winks. 

 

Jihyo sighs with a smile. Once again, Jihyo can’t wait to go home. 

 

/

 

“Don’t mind the mess,” Jihyo starts, “I never find time to clean it.”

 

“No judgement,” Nayeon follows her into the kitchen. “What will we be having?”

 

Jihyo stops. “I didn’t think that far ahead,” she muses. “To be fair, though, it was on the spur of the moment kind of thing. I wasn’t really thinking about anything else. Other than you.”

 

Nayeon softly smiles as she takes a seat on Jihyo’s small dining table. “That’s cute.”

 

Although just two words, it was enough to make Jihyo coward away to hide her blush. “Uh, how about we order some pizza? I can bake you some dessert. I could tell you like sweets with what you always buy.”

 

“Wow, you keep track of what I buy?” Nayeon laughs, exposing her teeth. And maybe, just maybe, Jihyo’s heart flutters a little. 

 

“I mean, it’s kind of hard not to when you only buy, like, three different things,” she bites back. And Nayeon raises her eyebrow until Jihyo realises what she just said. 

 

“I’ll just go order the pizza,” Jihyo rushes. She apparently loves making a fool of herself around pretty women. Nayeon just grins at her. 

 

/

 

“Can I ask you something?” Jihyo asks over a slice of pizza. 

 

“Sure.”

 

Jihyo hesitates. “Why do you come in right before we close?”

 

Nayeon falters, and Jihyo wonders if it was better left having her question unanswered. Her ardent curiosity should really be controlled. 

 

“Uh,” Nayeon pauses, thinking of the right words to say. “Well, I work most of the day. I live with my younger sister right around the corner, actually. But lately, she’s just been really sick. And i mean very sick. She can’t help her sweet tooth, as all Ims can’t,  so sometimes she asks me to buy her some snacks, which just happens to be right before closing, and how could I say no?”

 

“Oh,” Jihyo falters, suddenly feeling insanely guilty for judging the woman all those times she came in. “Shouldn’t you be with her now, then?”

 

“It’s fine, my mother’s taking care of her right now. She is getting better though, so that’s a plus. It also means I get to spend more time with you,” Nayeon shines. Jihyo tries to ignore the fact that her heart skipped a beat, but it’s no use. 

 

“That’s good to know. I hope she gets better soon.” 

 

They proceed to eat their food in a comforting silence.

 

Jihyo then prepares brownies, thanking her past self for buying and never using the brownie mix that has just been sitting in the back of her pantry. 

 

Something feels very right about this. Eating brownies on Jihyo’s couch at midnight, the two just delving into each other’s lives. It feels natural, almost like they’ve known each other for years when in reality, it hasn’t been more than about two months. Almost like the universe wants them to be together, to revel in each other’s presence. Jihyo likes it. Jihyo likes it a lot, and wouldn’t mind doing it more often. 

 

It’s relaxing, and she is thankful for the impression Nayeon left on her the day they met (although it was a negative first impression). 

 

 

And Jihyo can’t help but think, maybe this can be something good after all.