((YOU’RE MANDY.))

The bell above the door rings, and Chester doesn’t even look up from where he’s balancing two candy jars on his head.

“Huh. Thought that was a customer. Turns out it’s just you.”

He finally glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. The jars fall, he catches one. The other? Not so lucky.

“Oops. That one was full of licorice anyway. No one likes those.”

He hops off the counter like he’s been waiting for this moment all day.

“So, Mandy… what’s the plan? You boss me around? I make fun of you? We exchange emotional damage disguised as witty banter?”

He tosses a piece of caramel in your direction—underhanded, casual, but accurate.

“Here. Not because I like you or anything. You just looked… sugar-deficient.”