Choux Cream Cake

Line is Venom

"No way." I declared loud and clear, protesting the horrid action my parents had just asked me to do over the phone, "I am not hiring an unqualified person to work in my bar just because she has connections." The very notion of it disgusted me.

"Don't be rude," my mother tutted at me, "She just wants to try it out, there's no harm in it! She herself approached us to ask about the cafe, it seems she's really interested- her father is a business partner of ours, he wants her to try it out too, get some work experience."

"Then ask her to work at Starbucks." Anywhere else, please.

"Be nice to her, son," my father chimed in sternly, "If I hear anything about you being rude to her, I'll cut off the electricity to your cafe for a week." I believe he actually meant that.

"Fine." I sighed, relenting- arguing with them is like trying to move a mountain.

There are two possible reasons why they want me to hire this girl: one, they really need to suck up to her dad for a business deal, or two, they want to get me to interact with a girl in hopes that I'll get my mind off of Peach. Or both.

Either way, it's not the first time they've done this -try to set me up with someone- and at this point I'm tired of arguing. They mean well, but it's honestly just exhausting.

The minute that drenched woman handed me that creased set of papers and my eyes landed on the name, I put on the most genuine fake smile and gave her an interview. I hired her, then gave her an excruciatingly long handshake before she left.

During her training, I had to keep getting close to her because she kept pulling on me, calling my name every ten seconds because she keeps forgetting what to do. The entire time I had to keep acting like I wasn't popping a vein every time her shrill voice stabbed my ear drums- the sound even worse when I had to sit across her when she asked to eat together.

One day during our break, she reached her hand out, "Give me your Line," not even a question but rather a demand. So I handed her my phone, as she scanned my code, I thought of the dread I'd have to tolerate not just having to deal with her now, but rather also having to possibly deal with her outside of work.

With her clinging to me every second possible, I lost every opportunity to go and talk to P'Saint. If it wasn't for her constant pestering, I'd have gone into the kitchen and had my break where I always spent it- listening to the baker talk about nothing and everything while he rolled dough and piped cream, with me stuffing a bite of sandwich in his mouth every now and then because I felt like he spent all his time making food that he forgot to eat some.

It seems that ever since she started working here, me and P'Saint have grown slightly apart, he no longer smiles at me. When I talk to him, it's like I'm talking to a wall. For some reason, he's started avoiding me.

At home one night, we were on the couch, mindlessly staring at the news on the screen as we sat a mere few inches apart… yet the gap felt like it was miles wide. I scooched in a little closer, just slightly so my pinky made contact with his. My eyes subtly looked downward, and saw that he didn't move away when I overlapped our pinkies. With some bravery, I slowly dragged my hand over his, until my fingers cozied into the gaps of his hands. I could feel our heartbeat thrumming just slightly under the webbing of our fingers when I interlocked my fingers over the top of his hand.

My eyes travelled from our hands up towards his face, he was looking at our hands, a soft expression slowly making its way to replace the cold, indifferent one it'd had before. The gap that had grown was getting smaller, I could feel it.

Then, my phone's notification bell rang.

My hand remained on his while my left hand grabbed my phone on the cushion beside me, he looked over my shoulder to look at the header of the conversation.

N'Chompoo

Immediately, he removed his hand from under mine and sat further away, leaning on the armrest, his face completely changed as he sarcastically said, "I didn't know you guys were that close."

I clicked my phone off without even reading what she sent me, "We aren't close, she just asked for my Line," I said, attempting to reach out to him again only to have him move his hand away.

He looked at me directly with venom in his eyes, "And you just gave it?"

There was a pause, and before I could reply, he stood up, not bothering to turn back as he said to me, "Nevermind, you don't owe me any explanation." He slammed the door to his bedroom, "Text her back."

My eyes stayed on the closed door, contemplating whether I should approach it before deciding it wasn't worth the effort- he'd just ignore me. Resigning to the frustration, I slumped back down on the couch and dug my palms into my eyes. Having him treat me like this made my heart sink, making me afraid that I'd lose my friend.

I read her text on my phone: 'P'Perth, jaa~, I'm bored, please talk to me naaaa'

I heaved a heavy sigh, closing my eyes. Should I just ignore her?

Be nice.

Goddammit.