Chapter Text
“Hi, welcome to Bread Bridge Bakery, how can I help—” Joel began, monotone and half-asleep, already dreading another day of stale muffins and even staler customer small talk. Why Grian insisted on dragging him into this job was beyond comprehension.
Then the bell above the door jingled, and in walked bubblegum-pink hair, sky-blue dress, and a smile so bright it could outshine the pastry case lights. Joel’s voice flipped mid-sentence like a light switch.
“—Hello there,” he said again, this time smoother, eyes locked on her as he straightened up behind the counter. Okay, maybe there was one perk to customer service—babes.
“We’re just looking for Jimmy. Is he around?” said the guy beside her, though Joel barely registered him. His eyes stayed on the girl until the man added, “Oh, hey Grian!”
Joel flicked his gaze toward the back, where Grian, who had just emerged with flour on his apron and a scowl on his face, groaned loudly.
“Hi Scar,” Grian muttered like it pained him. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted toward the back room, “TIMMY, YOUR SIBLINGS ARE HERE!”
“So,” Joel said, leaning casually on the counter and turning his attention back to the pink-haired girl, “you’re Jim’s sister?”
“Yeah! I’m Lizzie,” she chirped, voice as bubbly as her bright exterior, eyes wide with interest as she looked around the bakery.
Joel was absolutely not prepared for how disarmingly cute she was. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, Lizzie… do you think I could maybe get your number?” He scratched the back of his neck. “You know, uh, just in case something happens to Jimmy. No other reason. Totally not hitting on you or anything. Ha ha.”
She blinked once, then smiled. “Uh, sure.”
Joel’s heart did a little victory lap.
Before he could pull out his phone, a groan echoed from the back as Jimmy burst out wearing sunglasses and a grey jacket, on the back of his jacket were two words, Bad Boyz with 3 hearts in green, yellow and red. An odd choice, but one they’d mutually agreed on.
“EWWWW Joel, stop flirting with my sister!” he yelled, dramatically. “And Scar, leave Grian alone already!”
Scar only laughed as he leaned against the glass display, not even bothering to deny anything.
“Lizzie, keys?” Jimmy asked, holding out a hand.
Lizzie sighed and tossed him the keys from her bag. “We literally just got here.”
“I know,” Jimmy replied, adjusting his shades like a diva. “But this place has too much..” he paused, looking between the 4 of them before speaking again “…energy.”
As the siblings exited, Lizzie slipped Joel a piece of paper. He watched her go with a dopey grin, her note in his hand.
xxx-xxx-xxxx - Lizzie :)
Grian walked by, smacking him on the back of the head with a tray of croissants. “Get back to work, Romeo.”
---
Joel sat on the edge of his bed, his gaze fixed on his phone screen, heart pounding in his chest. What should he say? What could he possibly say?
He let out a frustrated sigh and flopped back onto the soft, unmade sheets, glancing at his faithful dog, Meri, who watched him with curious eyes. "What would you message a really cute girl who's also your best friend's sister?" he asked, half-joking, hopeful for some semblance of insight.
Meri tilted her head and barked, though it was clear she was just as puzzled as he was.
Groaning, Joel ran a hand through his hair, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over him. He hadn’t felt this nervous about a girl since he was sixteen, and to be fair, he hadn’t even managed to get a girl’s number since then. Now, at the age of 26, he found himself spiraling into adolescent anxieties over a crush, yet again.
After a few moments of contemplation, he finally settled on a simple message: "Hey, this is Joel :)," feeling a mix of apprehension and hope as he hit send.
It took her only three minutes to respond, just three fleeting minutes that felt like an eternity, amplifying every nerve in his body.
Hey Joel, this is Lizzie :)
“Man, she always knows exactly what to say,” he sighed, a mix of relief and excitement washing over him.
Meri barked inquisitively, breaking his moment of contemplation.
“So what if I’ve only known her for a couple of hours?” he mumbled, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice.
Meri barked again, as if she had something to say.
“And yes, she is Jimmy’s sister!” he retorted, waving a dismissive hand.
Another bark erupted from Meri.
“Oh, shut up, Meri! You're a dog! Just because you give me that look doesn’t mean i'll pretend I didn’t see the way you looked at your own poop yesterday!”
Meri tilted her head, as if pondering his statement with a mix of confusion and amusement.
“Why am I even talking to a dog?” he chuckled to himself. “I’m a grown man.”
---
The following day at the bakery dawned with an unusual stillness. Too quiet, Joel stood behind the counter, idly pretending to reorganise the pastry display—though in reality, he was sneaking bites of leftover cinnamon rolls.
“Hey Grian, is Jimmy coming in today?” he called out to his friend in the bustling kitchen, the sound of clattering pans echoing around them.
"if this is some elaborate scheme to flirt with his sister leave me out of it, I'm trying to bake macarons and its a very involved process," Grian retorted, his concentration unwavering as he whipped the delicate batter.
"nooooo its just he's erm in charge of making the coffees, you know cant have a bakery without coffee and can't have coffee without Jimmy ha ha," Joel replied unconvincingly, "you know our system, you bake, Jimmy brews and I charm the customers with my amazing customer service!"
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Grian murmured, casting a distracted glance at his phone. His expression shifted to one of annoyance as he read the latest message, a groan of dismay escaping him. “What did you do?”
Joel blinked, mid-chew. “Define ‘do.’”
“Jimmy just messaged me,” Grian hissed. “he said, and I quote, if I see that Shrek wannabe so much as glance in the direction of my sister, I'm going to end his existence”
“He’s probably just worried about the economy,” Joel replied, struggling to sound nonchalant. “Or inflation. Or, like, croissant integrity or something.”
Grian crossed his arms, skeptically raising an eyebrow. “He literally called you a Shrek wannabe and threatened your existence. Did you ask his sister out?”
Joel grinned, not bothering to deny it. “I said I might call her if, say, Jimmy suddenly went missing in a mysterious bakery-related incident.”
"Joel, mate, come on-" Before Grian could unleash his signature eye roll, the front bell jingled. Jimmy walked in, Lizzie trailing behind him, looking as effortlessly cute as ever in a lavender cardigan covered in bees. Her eyes darted around the bakery, searching for something-or, or rather, someone.
“Hey Joel,” she greeted shyly, a sweet smile lighting up her face.
“Hey, Lizzie,” he replied, feeling a flutter of nervousness mixed with excitement.
“HLEEAAHHHurkurkBLLEAAHH!” Jimmy exclaimed, feigning a dramatic retch as he clasped his stomach, his face contorting in an exaggerated expression of disgust. With a flourish, he spun on his heel to confront his beloved sister, his eyes narrowing. “We had a deal. You promised you were only coming in for coffee!”
“I am,” Lizzie replied, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “And to chat with Grian about his delightful honey lemon scones. Not everything revolves around you, James.”
“Don’t call me James,” Jimmy retorted, his voice a mix of mock exasperation and brotherly affection.
Out of nowhere, Scar popped up, casually leaning against the counter, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm, “Did someone mention honey lemon scones?”
“NO!” Grian and Jimmy both shouted in unison, their voices overlapping in a chorus of protest.
Undeterred, Scar’s face lit up with a wide smile. “Perfect! I’ll take three,” he declared, his excitement infectious.
Grian let out a frustrated groan, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. With a reluctant sigh, he made his way to the back, determined to retrieve the honey lemon scones for Scar. Despite his feigned annoyance that brewed within him, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth whenever Scar praised his baking. Each compliment made his heart race, a sweet thrill that contrasted with his outward exasperation. As he moved, he couldn’t shake the fluttering excitement that accompanied the thought of sharing his creations.
While Grian disappeared into the back, Joel caught Lizzie’s eye again. She mouthed “Text me later,” and Joel, for the first time since high school, genuinely considered swooning.
Jimmy, catching the moment, groaned loud enough to rattle the napkin dispenser. “I will have you arrested, Joel.”
Joel winked. “For what? Excessive charm?”
“For being disgusting,” Jimmy shot back. “And unoriginal.”
“Originality’s overrated,” Scar chimed in. “I’ve worn the same pair of flamingo socks for six years, and I still get compliments.”
“From who?” Grian called from the kitchen.
“From me,” Scar replied proudly.
Jimmy groaned again. “I hate this bakery. I hate all of you. Lizzie, we’re leaving.”
“Nope,” Lizzie countered as she slid onto a stool with a determined grin. “I’m getting a cinnamon twist. Plus, I want to annoy you. This is far too entertaining.”
Joel smirked at the banter while Jimmy’s expression shifted to one of mock betrayal. Scar’s gaze drifted toward the kitchen, perhaps hoping Grian would return quickly with the scones that had become a point of investment in idle chatter.
After what felt like an eternity filled with the background sounds of whirring mixers and clattering dishes, Grian reappeared, balancing a plate of golden scones with a deep sigh. “If you could all please save the bickering for outside of bakery hours…”
“Oh, come on,” Scar replied with a laugh, “this place could use a touch of drama every now and then.”
“It already has enough drama with Joel around,” Grian muttered, rolling his eyes but unable to hide a smirk. “That’s quite enough.”
In response, Joel tossed a sugar packet playfully in Grian’s direction. “Love you too, boss,” he teased, his charm radiating off him like the warm light from the bakery’s windows.
Jimmy exhaled dramatically, throwing his hands into the air as if surrendering to an inevitable fate. “This is literally the worst job I’ve ever had.”
Lizzie’s smile widened mischievously. “Then quit.”
“I would, but then who would keep Joel from dating you?” Jimmy grumbled, snatching a scone from the tray with the fervour of someone who felt personally wronged.
With a sweet smile, Lizzie leaned towards Joel, who grinned and looked at the fuming Jimmy “It’s funny that you think you can stop me,” he challenged.
Scar leaned over the counter, resting his chin in his hands, watching the chaos unfold like it was the best show he’d ever seen—and frankly, it was. “This is better than daytime television,” he said cheerfully. “You’ve got sibling drama, unspoken tension, Grian’s denial arc—amazing stuff. I smell Emmy nominations.”
“I’m not in denial,” Grian said too quickly.
“No one said you were,” Scar replied, entirely too pleased with himself. “But since you brought it up…”
Joel clapped his hands once. “Okay! Jimmy, buddy, you have to accept it: your sister is a grown woman, and I’m a charming, bakery-employed god among men who—”
“—still lives with a dog and a beanbag chair,” Grian cut in.
Joel blinked. “Okay. Uncalled for.”
Jimmy crossed his arms. “Joel, you’re not even her type!”
“I am her type,” Joel said confidently.
Lizzie looked mildly amused. “He might be, actually. I’ve always had a thing for idiots with confidence.”
Joel lit up. “See! That’s me! Idiotic confidence! It’s literally my love language!”
Jimmy looked toward the ceiling like he was waiting for divine intervention. “What did I do in a past life to deserve this. Did I, like, slay someone and steal the enchanter?"
Scar gasped his mouth full of scones. “nah, I'm sure that was me.”
Jimmy threw up his hands. “I’m going home. I don’t need this. I don’t need any of this. Scar, leave Grian alone. Grian, stop baking things with feelings. Joel, STAY. AWAY. FROM. LIZZIE.”
He stomped toward the door.
“You forgot your jacket,” Lizzie called helpfully.
Jimmy froze, then spun around. “No. I don’t want it anymore. The Bad Boyz are dead.”
“Okay, drama queen,” Grian muttered.
With one final, melodramatic sigh, Jimmy threw open the door and exited, the bell jingling behind him.
Silence fell.
Joel turned to Lizzie. “So… when’s our first date?”
“Hmm,” she said, pretending to think. “Do I get a discount on baked goods if I say yes?”
Joel leaned in with a wink. “I’ll throw in a cinnamon twist and a full refund if you pretend I’m funny.”
“Tempting,” she grinned, nudging his arm. “We’ll talk.”
Joel turned around, mouthing 'YESS!!' while pumping a fist in the air,
Scar sighed dreamily and turned to Grian, who was already looking at him warily.
“What?” Grian asked.
Scar smiled. “Just thinking about how romantic our first date’s gonna be.”
“There is no ‘our,’” Grian muttered, turning to head back into the kitchen.
Scar followed with a mischievous grin. “Not yet.”
Joel watched them go, then turned to Grian's lemon honey scones,
He whispered. “I knew this bakery job would be worth it.”
Joel saluted. “Bad Boyz forever.”
Behind him, Lizzie choked on her cinnamon twist, trying not to laugh.