≻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ⇾ 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒆

≻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕⇾2,590

𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏:
[𝑪𝑯 - 𝒂𝒚] - 𝒔𝒂𝒊
𝑺𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒚𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 "𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒊" 𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 "𝑺𝒂𝒚"
𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒚𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 "𝑺𝒂𝒊" 𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 "𝑩𝒚𝒆"

ϟ

ϟ

ϟ

┌─⸉꒷꒦⸊─────────────┐
𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘
𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒊
└─────────────⸉꒷꒦⸊─┘

Pushing through one of the double glass doors casually, the chime of the bell above my head let everyone in the shop know of my arrival, including my boss, who seemed unhappy I was late. It was hard to tell if the elderly woman was genuinely angry with me or if this was one of her "I'm just joking, but don't let it happen again" expressions.

My red headphones secured over my head prevented any noise other than my music from flooding my ears, which caused Soonja to gesture for me to remove them. I paused before reluctantly doing so, my steps quickening towards the back counter where she stood as the sounds of the customers surrounded me.

"I think this is the first time I've seen someone arrive to work late despite their bed being less than fifteen feet from where they take orders," Soonja quipped as I passed by her with an apologetic smile, her voice hinting that she wasn't upset, and she was simply teasing me. "Be ready in five minutes," she added with a chuckle as I disappeared behind the curtain separating the cafe kitchen from my bedroom.

If I were the type of person to be late constantly, I would understand if Soonja wanted to scream at me about changing my habits, but I typically was early to begin my shifts. Usually, I only went to the aquarium in the late afternoons of my days after my shift had ended, or on my days off. Today was an exception because I needed to catch up on time while I was there watching my new friend Geunhae work with one of the rescues.

Stripping myself of my sweatpants and hoodie, I substituted them for a pair of jeans and a Post Malone T-shirt, throwing a button-up over it for warmth. I tied my hair out of my face into two braids that were a little messy due to my hurry as I slipped my boots back on.

I nearly forgot my nametag but quickly snatched it up and pinned it onto my shirt where "Chai Sai" could be legible to customers.

There was only time for some concealer and powder over the acne on my face before checking my reflection in finalization and heading out to the cafe. I rolled my eyes at Soonja standing directly on the other side of the curtain with her eyes directed to her watch.

"Four minutes, fifty-three seconds. Well done," she stated.

"Really?" I scrunched up my face in disbelief.

"No, I don't know, I wasn't paying attention to the time," Soonja responded flatly before approaching the counter to greet a new customer that had just walked in.

Secretly, I sent the old lady a dirty look in response, as she and I knew each other well enough at this point to know our arguing wasn't serious, and I got to work as she handed me the customer's order sheet.

It was my idea when she hired me to have an order option for introverts or people who don't speak. Each table and sitting area had pens and mini versions of our menu with checkboxes for them to fill out and simply hand in. Soonja seemed confused at first, being a chatty and personable woman herself, but soon agreed when I explained how common it was for people to prefer little to no talking with strangers.

The order sheet indicated specifically what the customer wanted and I quietly moved around the kitchenette to prepare each item desired. At this point, having been working here for three years, I was quite skilled at making most things requested, but Soonja made sure to correct me when I got something wrong or give me tips to become better at certain things. I was grateful for the simple order on the sheet, as I was feeling especially introverted and tired this morning, so I worked in complete peace.

There weren't many people seated around the cafe section, nor the bookshelves lining the entirety of the shop as it was a Wednesday morning. I assumed the few people who came here at these times were those who were purposefully avoiding the business of the city and crowded spaces. Outside of common work hours, and on weekends, we often had each table and seat filled within two or three hours. Mornings like these were my favorites, the atmosphere was calm and relaxing, and there wasn't too much noise for me to handle.

As I finished up the customer's order, I placed each item on a tray in an aesthetically pleasing way before carefully lifting it and taking it to the numbered table where a young man sat. He was dressed in an oversized shirt with long sleeves and a sports logo on the front corner pocket, a pair of simple black glasses sitting on the rim of his nose as he typed away on his laptop. A ballcap sat atop a head of short black hair, and I noticed a hoodie and shoulder bag draped over the back of the chair he sat in. I had a tendency to observe people, what they wear, and how they move, but always did so discreetly to avoid an awkward situation.

Without a word, I placed the tray on the table, causing the young man to lift his head slightly.

"Thank you," he said simply in a voice that was neither loud nor quiet, neither childish sounding nor too deep. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he offered me a smile, and I returned the gesture in a professional yet friendly manner before returning to the kitchenette behind the counter.

It confused me, his seemingly relaxed manner that didn't seem too introverted to me. Most people don't say a word when they use the order sheet, so I was a bit startled by his verbal gratitude and bright smile. From what I could see of his face, which wasn't much, he seemed a bit familiar, but I was sure I didn't know him personally, whoever he was.

Before I could be caught in my observant stare from my secluded spot in the kitchenette, I collected a rag from a bottom cabinet and began tidying up the counters and materials. After about twenty minutes, I had gotten everything back into a sparkling clean state and returned the rag to the cabinet.

Since Soonja was nowhere in sight, I assumed she was tending to organizing bookshelves or helping a customer find something in particular in the library section. As I noticed no new people were entering the cafe section of the shop, I decided to retrieve my book from my bedroom before taking a seat behind the counter and flipping it open to where I had left off the night before.

Immersed in the contents of the non-fictional book, I barely processed the sound of the front door opening with a chime several minutes later. The one thing I didn't process at all was the new presence directly on the other side of the counter, arms bent as they leaned over and simply waited for me to notice.

"Good book?"

My eyes flicked up to the new customer awaiting my service and I internally cringed at how unprofessional I must have seemed.

"Sorry," I mumbled with a forced little smile as I bookmarked my page.

"That's okay," the young man laughed. "Seriously, though, is The Great Gatsby good? I know it's like world famous but I've never read it."

Slight confusion struck my brain for a moment before I realized he was referring to the book cover's removable sleeve.

"Oh. Yeah," I responded with the tiniest hint of a smile before I quickly shut it and placed it on the shelf under the cash register. The young man observed me in what seemed to be amusement as I faced him and didn't make much effort to meet his eyes. "What can I get you?"

The boy hummed and lifted his gaze to the menu displayed above and I took the brief opportunity to examine him silently. He didn't seem noticeably tall in general but he had a good five or more inches on me and my small self, and he was dressed in a baggy white crewneck sweater with graffiti art on it. Two long chain necklaces with pendants hung around his neck and a pair of round sunglasses hooked over the neckline of his top. A black bucket hat hid most of his face, though he had tilted his head back slightly to meet my eyes initially when he spoke.

A simple dark mask sat just below his mouth once he'd pulled it down to speak, and I only now noticed his eyes flicking up from the nametag on my shirt to meet my gaze. "I'll have a chai please," he informed me, lip corners twitching.

I blinked at him, waiting for him to elaborate on his order, which he didn't, so I asked, "What size?"

The boy's eyes drifted subtly over me for less than a second, seemingly thinking his hat provided him the secrecy to do so, though I took notice of it due to how observant I am. "Small," he decided.

Nodding once and adding it to the order list on the screen above the cash register, I mumbled without looking up, "Iced or hot?"

There was a pause of silence, causing me to shoot my eyes up and raise a brow at the young man, probably appearing much scarier than I intended to. At this, he seemed to be fighting off a broader smirk and answered, "Iced."

His expression suggested he had made a joke of which I didn't understand the punchline, but I didn't care enough to ask what was so funny. I simply broke eye contact again to specify the drink order on the screen before adding, "Anything else?"

"Nope, that's it," the boy answered enthusiastically with a smile, retrieving his wallet from his crossbody bag to hand me his credit card. I swiped it through the card reader and handed it back to him without breaking my stare from the screen to complete the order. "I like your shirt," he spoke up while returning the card to his wallet. "I love Post Malone. I listen to all of his music- well, almost all of it. Have you heard his new album yet? It's so good..."

Why does this dude talk so much? I couldn't help but wonder as my eyes shot back up to stare at him blankly while he rambled.

When I found a gap between his excessive talking, I responded to what I could remember of his words. "Thanks," I said as I waited for his receipt to finish printing so I could hand it to him. "His new album is great."

The young man's eyes lit up. "Do you have a favorite song on it?"

When will this conversation end?

Grabbing a small cup and a black marker, I wrote 'Small Iced Chai' on the cup and looked back up at the boy. "Socialite," I answered. "Name?"

He seemed to hesitate for a second before saying in a slightly quieter tone, "Jisung."

Writing his name on the cup, I capped the marker and returned it to the pen cup. "I'll call your name when it's ready," I told him.

"Oh, um, that's okay you can just leave it on the counter and I'll see," Jisung blurted out with hints of panic in his voice.

I paused and stared at him for a moment, momentarily curious as to who raised him. "I can just bring it to wherever you're sitting..." I suggested.

Jisung chuckled slightly in what seemed to be relief before nodding. "Okay, sorry," he replied with a slightly amused tone and I simply nodded in response as I grabbed a lid and straw. "Thank you, Chai."

My movements halted for a millisecond at the false pronunciation of the first half of my name, glancing at the cup labeled "Small Iced Chai." I lifted my eyes to return to Jisung, noticing he took a seat beside the boy on his laptop I had served earlier, and he sent me a little amused glance before turning his attention to the other young man.

If he's suggesting I'm small and icy, I just might pour it over his head and ask him if that's icy enough for him.

"I know that look. Don't murder anyone."

Snapping my head to my right, Soonja now beside me, I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "I don't have that look," I mumbled, carefully mixing the correct ratio of milk to chai.

Soonja hummed. "You're right, you don't have that look. Your normal facial expression is that look," she responded a bit sarcastically in response before heading up to the cash register while I made the latte.

Huffing under my breath, I simply added ice to the mixture and popped the lid on before grabbing the straw and heading for the table where the two young men sat. They both seemed to be immersed in a deep conversation, not necessarily arguing, but definitely not agreeing on something. However, as soon as they sensed my presence, they immediately shut up, Jisung flashing me a bright smile.

"Thank you so much," he bowed his head a bit as I handed him the beverage and I simply nodded before returning to the kitchenette.

A few other customers filtered out, the morning passing into the afternoon as Soonja returned to the kitchen. She offered me a tired smile before heading to the sink full of dirty dishes.

"I'll wash those-"

"Oh, no, your shift is over," Soonja cut me off with a chuckle. "Besides, I don't mind this and I know you hate it."

Soonja's tone was teasing, full of amusement, which I didn't find offensive because I had always made sure she didn't know. She was entirely unaware of why I hated washing dishes, why I always ate alone with the door shut, why I didn't have any family or friends other than her, and why I came into her life like a stray cat that wouldn't let anyone pet her.

"You okay, honey?" Soonja broke me out of my suddenly deep train of thought. She had paused her hands' scrubbing motions on one of the cups, and my brain immediately bounced back to reality at the sight of the soapy dishes in her grasp that were bound to slip.

Nodding and offering her a forced smile that barely lifted my lip corners, I grabbed my book from under the counter where I left it and headed for the library section of the shop to my right. The sound of clinking silverware and glass caused my step to quicken and keep on going until I couldn't hear it, deep into the countless rows of bookshelves.

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief due to the peace and quiet, I made myself comfortable on one of the loveseats and returned to the bookmarked page from earlier, which began a new chapter.

CHAPTER THREE
Is Therapy an Option for Your Situation?

SECTION 1: Exposure Therapy...

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author's note
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Thank you so much for reading!

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