"You two, I've told you before—don't make a scene in the shop. And quit hitting on people. It's harassment," a deep, commanding voice barked, rough with authority.
The guy who'd pulled me back was a young male barista in a black apron. His blonde hair was tied back, and multiple piercings lined his ears. First time I'd seen anyone this delinquent-looking in this world. Glaring at the women, he stepped in front of me, shielding me with his back.
"You okay?" he asked, his tone softening, sharp but kind.
Damn, he's hot. Rough vibe on the outside, heart of justice inside—classic bad-boy hero. He must've seen me, a quiet-looking kid, getting hassled and jumped in to save me.
I nodded, but my brain flicked to this world's rules. Guys don't need to work—living costs are low, and perks are endless. That health booklet mentioned it: men's medical bills are slashed to 10% or even free, plus welfare benefits galore. Public transit? Free for male students with a school pass. Taxes? I haven't dug in, but getting married comes with subsidies, so you can guess how that goes.
Students like me don't get direct handouts, though. Parents might, but whether that trickles down to pocket money depends on them. If your wallet's thin, you've gotta earn cash for hobbies or whatever yourself. Places hiring teens pay well for young guys, no matter the job—being male's enough to boost your rate.
So why pick customer service, where trouble like this pops up? Simple: supply and demand. Male baristas are rare, so their pay's even higher. A shop with a "cute young guy" gets buzz—word-of-mouth pulls in customers. A bit of extra wage is worth it for that kind of draw. Big companies do the same, dangling high-paying jobs for men—qualified or not—to lure talented women chasing them. It's all about youth and looks.
How do I know this? Ms. Fuyuhara spilled it during one of our bedroom chats. She asked about my future plans—forgot she's a guidance counselor too, not just a teacher. Her top pick for a decent-looking guy? Corporate secretary. Best pay, cushy gig. She also half-joked, half-seriously, "Marry me and be a stay-at-home husband—that's a solid option!" I let that slide.
Other paths? If you're hot and don't mind the spotlight, modeling or entertainment's a goldmine. She even said, kinda serious, I could aim for news anchor. But fame's not my thing—too much attention kills my dream of being a top-tier player. So, secretary it is: arm candy for a female CEO, holding her bags, looking pretty. If my life's a book, it's Miyagi Kyo: High School Days, Chasing the Player Life now, but someday? Miyagi Kyo: Secretary, Sweet Whispers in the CEO's Office. Picture me in a sharp suit, cornered by a savvy older beauty in her private office, letting her have her way…
"Come on, Shima-kun, it's just a joke. Don't look so scary," one of the women whined, snapping me out of my daydream.
Whoa, hold up. I'd zoned out, picturing the future like it was a goddess-given vision. Nope, just my brain running wild. I glanced between the women and the barista. They know his name—regulars, then. Annoying ones, by the sound of it.
"How about it? Your shift's almost done, right? Come eat with us—we'll treat you to anything. Maybe throw in some pocket money too. You're working tons of shifts; you need cash, don't you?" the other cooed.
Yup, troublemakers. Young guys in customer service deal with this—pushy women hitting on them. They're hinting at a sugar mommy deal: cash for "company." Gross.
"I've said it before," Shima shot back, voice hard. "I don't make money like that. How about apologizing to this customer instead?" He kept me behind him, protective.
He's a good guy, and I felt his sincerity—whether it's just his job or not. But I don't want a stand-up dude like him stuck cleaning up my mess. "Thanks, but I'm fine," I said. "I don't mind."
"They touched you, didn't they?" he pressed. "I'll back you up if you want. We can call the cops—"
The women cut him off, voices rising. "We're customers! You wanna make this a police thing and then say 'oops, my mistake'? That won't fly!" one snapped.
"It's not a big deal! Just a little bump. Even he said he's fine!" the other added.
I didn't care before, but now? Oh, I'm starting to care.