“Vӕr så god, neste.” The barista---blonde with a bright smile---urges the next customer forward. “Hei! Hva skal du ha i dag?” She greets and asks a familiar face in front of her what she wanted to order.

This girl comes here often but she mostly looks like she’s lost and keeps to herself at one of the corner tables . When the long-haired blonde barista has a day-shift at the cafe, she doesn’t usually remember the customers’ faces as they all come by in a flash, especially during rush hour. But this one, she knows. She’s seen her here a couple of times. It’s one of the least crowded cafes in the whole train station after all. She’s also heard her talk to someone in Korean last time so it really piqued her interest to observe this customer whenever she’s here.

Despite her bubbly customer service persona, Yongsun never had the courage to approach and introduce herself to the other woman. She’s just thinking that she has better things to do than make friends. But she knows she’s lying to herself, it gets lonely, of course. She shoves everything down as her priorities only evolve around school and work. For now, at least.

“Uhh, I’d like to have a..hmm…okay. Sorry, just one americano, p-please….and to-go,....please. Thank you. And sorry.” The customer—shoulder-length orange hair, wearing baggy clothes and wire-rimmed glasses—stutters through her order. She tries to give the barista a smile but it just results in a straight-lipped one, then she stares at the floor. The bepestacled customer can’t believe she ed up an order of americano like this. It would’v