:　bakery

@jeong laon. Noeul observed the worker's meticulous preparation with admiration. As she watched him, a sense of calm washed over her. The rhythmic sounds of the espresso machine, the gentle hiss of the steamer, and the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee created a soothing feeling. It was as if she had entered a realm of tranquility, far removed from the quiet streets of Hanbit. As she watched him work, his skill and precision were evident, turning a simple cappuccino into an art form with his attention to detail and dedication to his work.

Her patience was rewarded when the steaming cappuccino was finally placed before her on the counter. She couldn't help but smile when she noticed the artistic touch by creating an enchanting scene on the frothy surface. Its surface was adorned with a galaxy of stars and the moon which captured Noeul's heart.

Ever since her stay in this small town, it has been the stars that have made her nights easier. She would look up to them, admiring their beauty and serenity, and it would bring her a sense of peace. The stars were her source of comfort in the dark nights and when she saw the same stars in her cappuccino, it felt like a sign of good luck and fortune.

"Thank you," she said with a warm smile as she accepted the cappuccino. Her fingers wrapped around the warm porcelain. For a moment, the moon and stars remained undisturbed as she held the cup, almost reluctant to disrupt the artistry. Then, she brought the cup to her lips and took a sip. The taste of the coffee had a subtle sweetness that lingered on her lips. With her taste buds pleased, her spirit was also satisfied that the worker had managed to bring a piece of the night sky into her cup.

She noticed him gesture toward the napkin basket and the array of shakers holding cinnamon and cocoa powder. Noeul nodded in acknowledgment. "I'll keep that in mind," she replied, her voice soft and grateful.

Watching his thin, pursed smile, Noeul couldn't help but sense an air of self-doubt. His craftsmanship was impressive, and she had enjoyed the experience, but his unease was noticeable. As the worker retreated behind the counter, she couldn't help but wonder what was on his mind or bothering him.

Taking another sip of her coffee, she found herself lost in thought, appreciating the beauty in the everyday. She knew that a cup of coffee was more than just a beverage; it was a connection, a conversation, a moment of artistry. The coffee shop felt like a haven of calm, and Noeul was content to sit, sip her coffee, and watch the world go by.

The morning sun rose in the sky, casting its golden rays on the coffee shop. The stars on Noeul's cappuccino slowly began to fade away, but the warmth and comfort they had brought her still remained.

She glanced over to the counter, still in need of her weekly croissant fix. The worker earlier had gone to the back, perhaps readying them out of the oven. Still, she stood and made her way over to the counter, nearly peeking as much as she could to catch a glimpse of the man at work.

@roh noeul. The lull that her voice brought felt like the swinging bob of the pendulum, one that sent him straight back all the way from Paris and the chapel, the flowers and the guests, to his family’s bakery and a face that never seemed to let time caress it one bit. “Uh, yeah, sure. One cappuccino.” He muttered under his breath. Laon opened the register, tapping the screen for one order of cappuccino before he stopped himself. The cancel button made a small sound after it was tapped, and Laon headed straight to the espresso machine.

The machine hissed and sputtered, releasing a rich, tantalizing aroma into the air as it came to life. Laon carefully selected a clean, porcelain cup and placed it under the machine’s portafilter. The finely ground coffee came next, and into the basket, it went, and Laon tamped it down evenly with a gentle twist of his wrist.

Next, he locked the portafilter into the group head and pressed the espresso extraction button. The machine roared, and a stream of dark, aromatic espresso began to flow into the awaiting cup. Laon stood next to it, watching the thick, velvety liquid as it filled the cup, hand on his hip and his eyes fixated on the mesmerizing swirl of brown and gold.

The milk came next, and Laon moved the cup aside to steam a small pitcher of milk. With the espresso and steamed milk ready, he carefully poured the milk into the espresso to only pause. Unnecessary thoughts roamed once more, and he pursed his lips together before continuing to pour, leaving a white foam circle on the surface.

He didn’t take long to draw something on the foam with a toothpick. Stars and the moon, little specks of galaxies, now danced in the cup of espresso as he brought it over to the customer. Tucking the small tray to his side, he pointed at the napkin basket and the arrays of shakers holding cinnamon and cocoa powder at the counter. “If you need anything, you can get them there.”

Laon gave himself a comforting nod, and with a pursed, thin smile, he left the woman alone, slipping behind the counter and back into the kitchen just to press himself against the wall because there was no need for any of what he had done. If his father was saying they were losing money, Laon was sure they were now losing money plus another five thousand won for that cup of coffee.

@jeong laon. If Noeul had to pick a favorite day of the week, it would be Sunday. She loved the slowness of the day, the way the sun lingered in the sky a few minutes longer than usual and the way the world around her seemed to move at a slower pace. Sundays were a special day for her; it was an opportunity to plan for the week ahead, organize her upcoming sessions and classes and relish the peace and quiet of the day with the freedom to spend it however she wanted.

At the beginning of every Sunday morning, she would get up early before sunrise and walk to the local bakery a few blocks away. She would savor the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting through the air and treat herself to a warm, buttery croissant with a cup of coffee. This was her weekly croissant dose, a Sunday morning ritual she looked forward to every week that was no different from those spent in Paris. The smell of freshly baked bread, the sound of birds chirping and the warmth of the sun were enough to bring Noeul the same sense of peace and contentment after all these years.

The bell chimed to inform of her arrival as she entered the bakery. The sweet aroma of baked treats filled the air, making water in anticipation. She quickly made her way to the front counter, eager to get her hands on one of the delicious treats. To her surprise, an unfamiliar face stood behind the counter.

Noeul was taken aback by the unfamiliarity, and she stood there for a moment. Over the years, she had become a regular customer and became familiar with the staff, the layout of the shop, and the delicious range of treats offered. She could not help but feel a slight sense of unease as she had never seen this person before. She stood there, taking in the unfamiliar face in front of her as she tried to process the sudden change.

Thankfully, his voice was welcoming.

"Oh," she replied as he told her it would be a few minutes. "Um... I can wait. Can I get a cappucino first, if that's alright?" Not wanting to be a bother and not minding him to take his time, she sat near the window to wait. She observed the man behind the counter, wondering if he was a new addition to the town. As she watched him busy himself, she couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about him and the other newcomers that the town had been welcoming in recent months.

Hanbit was vastly different compared to Paris, however, it was the same in the sense that there were still moments of joy and delight to be found in the simplest things. After six years in this small town, Noeul had grown to love it even more. She looked forward to the quiet mornings, the long walks along the seashore and the occasional impromptu gatherings with the locals. She had created a home in this small town, and Sundays reminded her of that. Hanbit was becoming increasingly popular with tourists and new residents alike. It was easy to understand why; it was a place of peace and tranquility, and its inhabitants were friendly and welcoming. She would not be surprised if this was the same reason that drew people from every corner to this small paradise.

Her attention was diverted to the morning sun as it peeked over the horizon. The soft glow of dawn illuminated the picturesque town that was slowly waking up from its peaceful slumber.

@roh noeul. Laon stirred awake from a brief, unintentional nap, his senses tingling at the intoxicating aroma of almost-baked goods. He had sat down for a moment, his eyelids heavy from the early morning’s laborious efforts, but the seductive dance of dough in the oven had lulled him into a short, blissful slumber.

With a sleepy stretch and a yawn, he rose from his makeshift nap spot, a small stool tucked away in a cozy corner of the bakery. His baker’s apron, now lightly dusted with flour, crinkled softly as he moved. The dimly lit bakery seemed to hold its breath as if it, too, had been caught in the spell of the rising sun and the fragrant pastries in the making.

Laon's eyes flickered to the oven, a trusty companion that had seen him through countless early mornings and late nights years before he was who he is now. Its ceramic tiles held within them the secrets of generations of bakers passed down through whispered stories and hands-on training. All the late nights and early mornings during his schooling years when he would still help out his parents at the bakery now only felt like a brush of the past. In this oven, dough transformed into gold, and dreams became reality.

As he approached the oven, the coffee machines' rhythmic sounds and the ovens' hum filled the air, a symphony of creation and indulgence. With their hissing steam and gurgling promise of rich, dark elixirs, the coffee machines worked tirelessly in the background, a constant undercurrent to the bakery's daily ballet.

Approaching the oven, he cautiously cracked the door, a warm breath of heated air caressing his face. Within, golden loaves of bread and delicate pastries had taken on a sun-kissed hue. The scent was almost tangible, like the culmination of years of tradition and passion encapsulated in a single breath.

Laon knew that a few moments could make all the difference between perfection and overdone. He watched the pastries with a baker's intuition, a profound connection that transcended words. With practiced precision, he reached for the long wooden peel, its well-worn surface a testament to countless journeys in and out of the oven.

Time seemed to stand still as he gently slid the pastries onto the wooden surface, their bottoms crisp and golden, their tops adorned with just the right amount of caramelized perfection. The bakery's heartbeat quickened as the door to the oven closed once more, sealing in the magic for a few precious minutes.

As he waited, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped him, a warm and comforting embrace that mingled with the tantalizing scent of baked goods. Like diligent sentinels, the coffee machines released the dark nectar into cups, their mechanical sounds adding to the bakery's bustling symphony.

Who would have thought he’d be back here again, now having to get used to pushing the oven’s buttons hard because it was getting too old to detect any incoming instruction? Two days ago, he was still in France, packing his belongings and peeling off command strips on the walls to get his rental deposit back. Now, Laon was working alone in the workstation his father used to run like the devil. Glancing over at the clock on the wall, he nodded at the minutes left before the help staff came in for their shifts.

The chime of the doorbell pulled him from his reverie, signalling the arrival of another customer. With his flour-dusted hands and a friendly smile, Laon went to the front to greet the customer.

"Welcome," he began, the words flowing effortlessly from his lips. "Sorry, but the pastries and breads will only be out in ten minutes. Can I get you something else first?"

Laon paused, his eyes locking onto the face of the customer before him. The dim light of the bakery revealed features that stirred memories from a time long ago, memories of an altar and the scent of flowers. It was a face he knew from his days in France, a face that had been etched into his heart.

@kim dan. The days passed by slower in Hanbit, but Don preferred it that way. The dimly lit Antique shop hoarded with dusty old ‘treasures’ of town was his new normal in contrast to the extravagance his previous life offered him. Or rather, shoved down his throat so fast he didn’t have time to breathe. If the sun’s beams hit the old chandelier lamp at just the right angle, it had the same effect the chandelier in his old home did. He considered himself blessed. He sat in silence as his eyes scanned the bright screen in front of him, the selection of delectable and exotic toys on display now organizable by filters. The antique store business was slow, but his online exotic toy shop, Chains, was even slower. However, today he had his first customer since his shop went live and he wasn’t going to waste the bottled excitement brewing in his body.

He checked his watch then out the window between the big, bolded letters made to attract elders with poor vision. 10 minutes until closing. He deserved one donut. With his bag packed within 30 seconds, he had 9 minutes and 30 seconds to make his way across the street to the bakery. He made it there in 15. But instead of being met with the scent of left over pastries, he was hit with a foul sight. His sour mood returned and his expression hardened. All he wanted was a donut. His eyes fell to the tray of leftover donuts on the table, the couple beside him a side piece to his quest. “These are half priced 5 minutes before closing, right.” He mumbled as he looked at the watch on his wrist, then back at the donuts.

“Buddy, do you mind? We’re busy here.” The rather aggressive man echoed.

Don ignored him, bored eyes flickering over the menu above the counter as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world before looking back at his watch. 5 minutes. He smiled and grabbed two donuts, one stuffed into his mouth, the other offered to the fuming man beside him, his meaty hand still tightly wrapped around the employee’s wrist. “On me. Ah-“ he nodded towards the man’s hand. “It seems you’re a little occupied. Let me help you.” Without much thought, Don shoved the donut into the man’s mouth, the aggressiveness knocking him back, away from the bakery employee. “Delicious, isn’t it?”

@lee don. as the day drew to a close, dan found himself in the familiar ritual of closing up his bakery. he had maintained the cheerful disposition for the entirety of the day at his bustling store, serving delicious pastries and coffee to the constant stream of customers. but now, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the ever-present smile finally slipped from his face. there was a subtle unease in the air that he couldn't quite put his finger on. why was he feeling this way? it's been awhile since he had felt like this since... he quickly shook the thoughts out of his head and glances around the cosy interior, the display cases now empty f their delectable treats, but he couldn't find something amiss.

as dan turned the lock on the door, a wave of apprehension washed over him. it was then that he heard a familiar voice. THE voice that he's been trying to forget, the one that sent a chill down his spine. he instinctively flinches and backs away, his eyes widening in disbelief at the unexpected sight of his ex. "what... what are you doing here? how did you find me?" he managed to utter out, taking another step back as his ex took a step forward. "oh come on now, danny. you know you can't hide from me forever, did you think moving here would change things? stop being a baby and come back home with me." his ex reaches for his arm and grips onto his wrist, the hold tight enough to make dan yelp softly as he tried to writhe away, the unwanted pain bringing back memories of their tumultuous time together. "i'm not going back, won. it's been four months. just leave me alone."