Noodz at the Actor's Hideout

chapter 3

Sera drops her hands away from her boobs as if they're molten globes of lava. They bob down—ungracefully, unapologetically, regretfully so. The action doesn't produce a sound, but Sera's embarrassment echoes in the convenience store. Fucking bouncy tits. Her boobs aren't hot enough to produce fire, but her face burns. It burns as bright as the confusion and mild shock in Yuan Chen's brown eyes.

Riri cranes her head away from Sera's phone to check and Sera gives her a warning glare.

"What? Why did you stop posing? Show me your tits!"

"Uh..." Yuan trails off and takes backward steps toward the noodle aisle, almost tripping himself in the process. "I'm just gonna go and, uh."

Sera bobs her head too hard that her chin hits her plender gap. "Yeah, sure. Yes, please. Go ahead, sir. Thank you."

"Yeah?" Yuan points at the noodle aisle again and Sera mimics him. He mouths an elongated oh and finally, finally leaves to drown in noodles or packets or fucking whatever while Sera drowns in shame. She breathes a sigh of relief and faces Riri who has her coffee-stained lips gaping.

"Is that—was? I—?"

"Riri, please. Let's talk later."

The distinct evolution of Riri's round and alluring eyes happens within five seconds: sleepy, confused, surprised, confused for the second time, awakened, intrigued, then, excited. It dangerously stays at the seventh emotion as Sera's best friend bounces in front of her, curly bun bobbing on top of her head. She has found her new motivation, a fresh mystery to solve, and it stars Sera and an A-list celebrity.

"Can't I really stay for at least an hour—no? Please! I'll just go and sit in the corner and stare." Riri watches Sera firmly shake her head and frowns. "Half an hour?" Sera's brows shoot up. Riri never compromises. Their firm and strict laundry schedule is proof of that. 

"No," Sera says, puckering her glossed lips into a perfect round pout. Riri grumbles and grabs her items and coffee. Just before she exits Pete's Mini Mart, she pauses and without turning, flashes her middle finger to Sera.

You little fucker.

There will be an angry woman sitting in the living room later when she comes home, she's sure of it. 

Sera shakes her head, and the bell rings again, but this time, the sound rewards her with relief. Riri finally leaves. Now, onto the second elephant in the room (or celebrity, rather). She stands on her toes and cranes her neck to where she knows he'd be: the second fridge, crouching down to reach for the bottom shelf. Ah, Yuan Chen, the lemonade enthusiast.

He stands back up and their eyes meet. Sera holds a gasp, any reaction or acknowledgment, and pretends to count spare change. 

Two taps, two freaking taps on the counter, and her heart starts beating erratically again.

Yuan Chen, the person who has been catching her embarrassment and stuffing them in his pockets, places his items down on the counter with a cautious look on his face. 

"What?" she snaps, catching him off-guard with the bite on her tone. "My boob won't bite you."

They are round, perky, and without teeth. Fucking cute tits.

He blinks at her, long lashes fluttering and teasing the skin under his eyes. "I hate to say this, but boobs get more bitten than it does biting." He pushes the instant noodles toward her. "Water again, please."

This man... he rarely speaks but when he does, he pulls the rug under Sera.

A fish out of water, that is what Sera is—gasping for life, gasping from the lack of rebuttal. She scoffs, grabs the noodles, and tears the plastic off with the disdain of a five-year-old who wasn't granted their new favorite toy. Her back is turned to Yuan, and she can hear him tapping again. She just knows those two long fingers are on her counter that she meticulously wipes with disinfectant every day (twice, one when she arrives, and another one when she leaves).

For a second, she's tempted to add cold water to Yuan's noodles of choice today (seafood, the bigger pack). And that's when she takes note of her behavior. She's doing it again, turning angry at the mild taste of embarrassment.

This is what she's been avoiding, this is what brought her to this town, this is what keeps her up awake at night (or in the morning, because she's on the night shift, duh). This is the character development she's been working on (and failing).

She clears her throat and turns to face him, dark brown eyes focused on his shirt because his face is just too much for her freshly-acquired fan-girl status.

"Here's your noodles."

Yuan reaches out but hesitation—something that Sera sees the first time on him—makes him pull back his hands. "Sorry," he blurts out and both of them blink in surprise. "I'm sorry for walking in on that and," his eyes make a quick glance at her bouncy tits then back at her face. Yes, focus on the lipgloss. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Just like that, the pressure is released. Sera's shoulders sag in relief and satisfaction. She looks up at him through her mascara-coated lashes. A smile can be found on her lips if he looks further down her eyes.

Sera has always been, well, prone to embarrassment. She's a walking danger sign with her impulsive tendencies and her clumsiness, and that has earned her a couple of hair-pulling (not-the-sexy kind) moments. But as often as those moments are, people rarely apologize for making fun of her. So she runs to cry or kick or sleep or cry again when she wakes up. The grumpy and shy child in her turned into a grumpy, anxious, and defensive adult (if her height counts for an adult that is).

She slides the paper bowl of noodles toward Yuan again—a peace offering, a thank you. A smile breaks on his million-dollar face before he finally takes it.

"Sorry, too."

Yuan frowns at her. "For what?"

She shrugs and twists the loose screw on the counter. "This is a convenience store and I shouldn't have made my customer uncomfortable."

Yuan just stands there, all five foot ten feet of him in his black leather jacket. He blows air out of his mouth and rolls his eyes. No biggie, a wave of his hand says. Then he starts to walk away, but at the last second, he changes his mind and he turns. Two taps, two taps on the counter again.

Sera looks at him, waits patiently for whatever the superstar has to say to her.

"Your makeup is pretty again today, as usual. Thanks for the noodles."

Then, she's left with the wake of his cologne. A musky, woodsy, aqua scent that sits just right. If Sera can express herself in Gen Z tappings, she knows it can only be: ASDFGHJKL!