Marina City, Wednesday, around 10 p.m.

Lighting up Derry Street is a small convenience store called QuickBuy. I was the part-timer behind the register—a twenty-two-year-old college student just about ready to finish my shift.

“Thank you! Please come again,” I mumbled, mustering all the energy I had left after standing for almost four hours. I kept hoping to hear Ms. Zina’s voice soon so she could relieve me for the day. Ms Zina, a warm thirty-four-year-old woman, owned the store with her husband. They’ve been married for about six years. Ms. Zina is definitely one of the kindest people I’ve met in the city - like a sweet, doting elder sister.

Despite the tiring work, I don’t mind working here. The store is conveniently close to both my college and home, but mostly, I stay because of Ms. Zina. She always sends me home with the biggest smile and sometimes even a fully packed homemade dinner.

‘Hang in there, Kito. It’s half past ten. She should be here any minute now’, I thought, glancing toward the staff room at the back of the store.

“Hello dear! Good work today!”

My face lit up when I heard her voice. “Hello, Ms. Zina!”

“How was your day, dear?” she asked as she approached the counter.

“Just got a whole lot brighter,” I replied with a grin.

“Oh, you! I’m a married woman, you know,” Ms. Zina giggled. “I’ll take over from here. You can head home.”

“Thank you! I’ll be off then! See you tomorrow!” I rushed to the staff room, grabbed my bag and slipped out the back exit of the store.

                                                                                                  *

The night breeze brushed softly against my face, carrying the faint scent of salt from the nearby sea mixed with the earthy aroma of damp grass. As I walked my usual route, the quiet hum of the city at night wrapped around me, punctuated by the occasional chirp of crickets and the distant murmur of late-night traffic.

My path took me past a beautifully lit lake, its surface shimmering under the glow of street lamps. Couples strolled along the water’s edge, their quiet laughter blending with the gentle ripple of water lapping against the shore. The faint rustle of leaves in the trees overhead added a soothing soundtrack to my walk.

I loved this walk. The cool air, the soft glow of the lamps, and the peaceful sounds helped me shake off the fatigue from the day. Those few minutes felt like a small escape, a pocket of calm that made all the hard work worthwhile.

Honestly, I was pretty satisfied and happy with my life and routine. I didn’t complain much to anyone. Life is good. Well, almost. There is just one thing I absolutely dislike: the person I am about to see in a few minutes.

As I started climbing the stairs to my apartment, I let out multiple heavy sighs. When I reached my door, I took a deep breath and opened it, announcing in a low, neutral tone, “I’m home.”

“Welcome home!” came a pleasant, gentle voice from a man peeking out of the kitchen.

My eye focused at the sight of him. A moment of genuine peace washed over me, but it instantly dissolved when I heard the voice that followed.

“Hi Kito! Welcome home!” a shrill voice chirped from the couch. I frowned.

The sound belonged to my roommate, Mio, the person I dislike, who was now adjusting her bright pink face mask and enjoying a leisurely night in front of the TV. The man still hovering in the kitchen, expertly slicing vegetables, is her boyfriend, Mike.

Mike was the only bearable thing about this living situation—tall, a little shy, with kind eyes, and always ensuring his presence wasn't an inconvenience. He was wearing his usual, ridiculously cute bunny apron. Mike was a good guy. Mio, on the other hand…

I swiftly kicked off my shoes, slid into my house slippers, and marched directly to my room. ‘I hate this!’ I thought, letting out a heavy sigh.

I share the apartment with Mio, a twenty-four-year-old hairdresser whom I find insufferable, for only one reason: I cannot afford the rent alone. The apartment was very convenient, as it was walking distance to my college and the store. However, it came with the most irritating roommate, which I had initially thought would be fine. I figured I'd end up spending most of my time outside, either at college or the store, and only needed a place to sleep and clean.

That was until I met Mio’s boyfriend, Mike, a diligent office worker at one of the top companies in the country. I initially disliked Mike, assuming any dimwit dating her must be just as annoying as she was. But as Mike started spending more time in our apartment, I slowly began to feel an unexpected attraction towards the man. I started noticing things I never gave a second thought to before.

From what I heard from Mio, they’ve been in a “happy relationship” for about two years now. ‘Oh must be nice,’ I thought but soon I started noticing the imbalance.

I realized that Mike spends most of his time after work here doing a lot of chores: preparing dinner, doing laundry occasionally, and even dusting the apartment. Yet, he doesn't really spend the night. He leaves immediately after dinner, and I even doubt if they have an active sex life. The pattern was clear: he takes her shopping when she wants something, and she always comes back with expensive things, which I assume he paid for. I finally came to the conclusion that this is not a normal relationship, and any sane person would wonder why he is still dating her.

That’s when it hit me: Mike is a doormat - A perfect one for Mio.

Once I realized this dynamic in the relationship, I started hating Mio slightly more than usual. And Mike, I hated him even more for not walking out and putting up with it all.

But what I truly hated the most was myself, for not having the courage to tell Mike that he deserves someone better, someone more caring, someone who actually needed that care and affection. Someone who sees how much he gives, and gives, and expects nothing in return. Someone who is in love with him yet lacks the courage to say it out loud.

That night, as every other night, I laid on my bed, thinking, ‘Ahhhh! How I wish he was my boyfriend!’

As the image of Mike in that absurd, cute bunny apron, dedicatedly preparing the meal started burning in my mind, a familiar ache settled in my pants.

‘Another day of self-service,’ I thought, reaching for the lotion and tissues.