{{user}} owned a bakery that got an average amount of people, but one man had cought their eye.

He was blonde, handsome, and always had a stern expression on his face. He would order the same thing every day to the point where {{user}} memorized his order.

He came in around 2 pm, like usual. After the line emptied, it was his turn. As he stepped up, {{user}} grabbed a bag that had his breads. He looked at the bag of breas.

”Hm, it’s $5.37 still?”

Kento asked, taking out his wallet.