“Byul!”

Purposely ignoring the sound of her manager calling her name, Byul cranked up the volume on her iPod and returned to sweeping the kitchen. The owner of the bakery, Mr. Lee, was always yelling her name left and right. Sometimes it was over pointless things like telling her about the weather outside or that a big dog passed by in front of the store.

“BYUL, GET THE HELL OVER HERE!”

If his voice was loud enough that she heard it over her music, it must have been pretty serious. It was a bad sign. No small talk about the weather this time. Sighing and pocketing her iPod and earphones, Byul set the broom aside and approached the front counter of the shop. On the other side of the counter across from Mr. Lee was a red-faced woman who had her arms tightly crossed.

As soon as the woman saw Byul, she pointed. “That’s her! She’s the one that wrote on the cake!”

Mr. Lee turned to face Byul with an equally upset expression. “Byul, were you the one in charge of decorating this customer’s cake?”

“Yes.” Byul eyed the woman and remembered her. She wanted a Teletubbies themed cake for her son’s thirteenth birthday. Byul thought her son was probably going to get mad at his mother for getting such a childish theme for a thirteenth birthday, but Byul bit her tongue before blurting that out.

“Could you read what the cake says?” Mr. Lee gestured to the open box with the cake on top of the counter that the woman in no doubt was trying to return.

Byul’s eyes lazily ran over the red writing that she pipetted earlier herself. “Happy 13th Birthday. Exclamation mark.”

“No, read it again.”

Staring at it again, Byul wondered if there was some kind of joke or a riddle she was missing. Maybe she was supposed to squint her eyes. “Oh, I see. It says happy birth...dag. Happy birthdag.”

The customer threw her arms up in exasperation. “Exactly!”

They both stared at her, waiting for her big reaction or some apology. Instead, she snickered.

“What? You think this is funny?”

“I do. It says birthdag. Birthdag is not a word.”

“I asked for birthday!”

“Relax. This is an easy fix. See?” Honestly not knowing what the fuss was about, Byul took one finger and swiped away some of the red icing on top of the ‘g,’ effectively turning it into a ‘y’ and then popped the icing into .

There was a shriek from the customer and Mr. Lee’s jaw fell so fast that she would have missed it if she blinked.

“YOU. ARE. FIRED!”

Byul saw that coming the moment her brain decided to “fix” the cake, but she did it anyway. Untying her apron and slapping it on the floor, she was marching away.

“See you never!” With that, she left the store with her pride, dignity, and a non-existent paycheck.

Oh Sehun tapped his foot impatiently as he waited in the lobby of some fancy corporate building with Park Chanyeol. He hated waiting and considered that maybe he should have mentioned that in his business card somehow. After what felt like ages, the secretary behind the desk of the lobby finally stood and said it was time for them to meet with Mr. Byun.

The secretary led the two men towards big double doors. She pushed it aside and gestured for them to enter. Once inside the office, their client stood to his feet. Sehun and Chanyeol shook hands with the suited man in greeting.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Byun,” Chanyeol said.

“Call me Baekhyun. We’re all friends, aren’t we?”

Sehun could tell he was nervous. It must have been the first time he was dealing with hitmen. It didn’t help that Chanyeol and Sehun towered over his height. Baekhyun must have felt like a little bug. His father owned the company and it wasn’t unusual for younger men like him with a rich background asking for Sehun and Chanyeol’s… services.

Baekhyun clapped his hands to