It was a normal day. Glimmers of the sun's rays peeked through the light blanket of clouds. There was no breeze to enjoy and no rain to worry about. Flowers started to bloom after the rowdy winter, though we didn’t get too much snow, but enough for kids to be throwing snowballs in the center of town.

Animals scurried across the streets. That was when I saw my first squirrel in months. Seeing a furry animal is always a pleasant sign. It meant spring was around the corner.

I didn’t love or hate spring. Sure, the weather starts to warm up the ground, and the unique flowers captivate the eye, but I wasn’t typically fond of it. The weather can sometimes get a little cold, and it rains for a decent amount.

I didn’t like getting wet. Not because I hated the feeling of being soaked but because of how long it took to dry. Your teeth clatter, and your arms hug you for maximum warmth. If there was no blanket or towel around, then it was a drag. Uh, what a pain.

But today, it wasn’t like that. It felt like the world was knocking on summer’s door. I could stay outside forever.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t. I opened the doors to a cafe, where I was greeted with friendly smiles.

“Good afternoon, Jill.”

“Good afternoon.”

“You’re earlier than usual.”

“I guess.”

I brushed off my manager’s words and headed to the backroom. The backroom consisted of a circular table, sometimes used for staff meetings. Multiple seats with no cushions circled unevenly. A sink rested at the lonely corner as though it was meant to be isolated. It looked out of place. Why was there even a sink? I never saw anyone using it.

Oh well, it’s not like I cared.

I removed my bag from my shoulder and stuffed it into a tiny cubby. It held my water and a few snacks, nothing more.

I checked myself in the standing mirror. My white button-up shirt was tucked into my dark cargo pants. Uneven lumps acted as peaks of mountains circling my waist. What a terrible job—almost laughable.

And I was right about that.

“Heya! Hahah. What are you doing? Checking yourself out?”

“Oh, hi, Mia,” I said while trying to fix my shirt.

“You really have a hard time dressing up. It’s like every day I have to fix something for you. Here, let me see.”

She carefully placed her bag on the ground and started fixing my tuck job.

“So many wrinkles. Do you not iron your uniform?”

“N—No.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Ah, you have to. Drop your clothes off at my place on the weekend. I’ll iron them for you.”

“No, no, no. It’s ok. I swear.”

She sighed. “Whatever you say.”

Mia didn’t bother arguing. Probably because she knew my answer wasn’t going to change. Though I have to say, her offer made me smile internally.

She evened out my collar before saying, “Alright, now all the boys will be flocking to you.” She then proceeded to slap my shoulder.

I forced a half-smile. “I’m good.”

“Let me check myself.”

She looked up into the mirror, almost as if she could see through it. Her hazel eyes reflected back at her, and her light freckles perfectly matched her face. Her nose was the perfect size and shape, and her eyebrows were sharper than steel. Sometimes, I find it hard to believe she worked at a cafe and not for some expensive designer.

She tied her ginger hair into a clean top bun, and no strand strayed loose. That’s a professional for you.

“Jill. You should grow out your hair.”

“I like my hair.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I like it too. I love that your hair is slightly above shoulder length and curls slightly inwards. It’s a unique look. But I think longer hair would look cute on you.”

“I’ve had longer hair for most of my life. I did have pigtails for a bit and other stuff. But I kind of fell in love with shorter hair.”

“Really? I would love to see you with longer hair, though.”

“Is that Mia the friend talking, or Mia the hair stylist?”.

She took the sarcasm pretty well, giggling at my stupidity. “A little bit of both.”

Mia worked full-time at a hair salon and part-time at this cafe. She claimed she needed all the money she could get so she and her infant son could move out of Lyghtonberg. When she’s working, her younger brother takes care of her child. He’s either 15 or 16. I couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter since he was mature enough to handle an important responsibility.

Mia constantly chased money. She worked seven days a week, with shifts lasting 8-12 hours, depending on the day. She hardly skipped a day, and when she did, it was because of an illness. Every day, she came closer to her goal of leaving Lyghtonberg.

I never poked fun at her ambitions. She wanted to move to Walisburg or Clueknicks and open her own hair salon. That’s her major dream, which she said she had chased for a very long time.

It must be amazing to still hold onto a dream to live for. I recalled when I had those days. I abandoned pursuing ideologies and lived like an ordinary person for the last four years. It’s not like I’d forgotten. Every night, I stared at my ceiling in the dark, wondering why I was like this. How did I become so pathetic? Why was I still alive? What was the point of my existence? Would I be able to get past the SCAR agent? Could I achieve my Raphtalia’s dream? My dream. Our dream.

I knew living to be a server at a random cafe wasn’t ideal, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t defeat the SCAR agent. Retreating to the Bariac Cult was a death wish. Traveling from city to city without a stable place to sleep was exhausting.

I settled down. I got a job and a condo. I lived alone and talked to very few people. It’s been peaceful, to say the least. But there’s something inside of me that didn’t feel right. Even though I’m at peace, I felt lonely. The only person I really talked to is Mia, but she’s never available. I only spoke to her at work, which was twice a week.

I could easily give Mia golden outis coins so she could move and start her business. Of the 300 plus golden outis coins Randy generously gave four years ago, I only used around fifteen, and that was only to buy my condo. From there, I haven’t touched it since.

I could give it to her, but then she would leave. Maybe that’s why I haven’t said anything. I wanted her to stay as long as possible, even though it was wearing her body down. I couldn’t believe how selfish of a person I was—making someone suffer with non-stop work so I could speak to them twice a week. I deserved a beating.

“Ladies, I need you two to come out.”

“You got it, boss.” Mia’s giggling stopped.

Seriousness jumped onto her face whenever the boss spoke. It’s not like anything happened between them. He just had an intimidating presence, according to her.

“Let’s have a good shift, Jill.”

“Ya.”