By the time I clocked in on day two at HappyMart, I was running on three hours of sleep, two energy drinks, and one dangerously wobbly sense of self-worth.
I was ready.
Ready-ish.
Okay, I tripped on the mat walking in and almost body-slammed a shelf of scented candles, but hey, still technically standing. Victory.
[Daily Goal: Sell 10 Items!]
[Stretch Goal: Make a Customer Smile! (No, Not In a Creepy Way)]
[Bonus Reward: $1,000 + System Adoration]
"Let's go, baby," I whispered to myself like a man on the edge.
The store was alive with the usual chaotic energy. Screaming toddlers. Boomers asking for paper catalogs. A suspiciously ominous squeaking coming from Aisle 9. Classic.
I straightened my itchy blue polo, adjusted my name tag ("Hi! I'm Allen!" but the "n" was half-scratched off, so I was technically Alle), and headed to the electronics section, where dreams and warranties go to die.
That's when I saw her.
No. Not her her.
But her adjacent.
Mia's best friend.
Zoey.
Tall. Stylish. Currently holding a blender box like it was trying to scam her out of rent.
Oh crap.
"Oh, hey... Allen, right?" she said, smirking like a cat who just saw a mouse trip over its own feet.
"H-hey!" I squeaked, again proving my vocal cords were allergic to confidence. "Need help with... a blender?"
She raised an eyebrow. "This one says it has 'quantum pulse vortex blades.' Is that real or just science-y nonsense to sell overpriced soup makers?"
I leaned in, read the box, then said with complete and utter confidence, "That is... absolutely nonsense."
Zoey snorted. "Good. That's what I thought. I'll take it."
[Mini-Task Complete: Sell to Someone Who Knows You're Lying] [Reward: $200]
[Relationship with Zoey: +5 - She Respects the Hustle]
"You know," she added, as she swiped her card at the register, "Mia mentioned you. Said she had fun the other night."
I choked on my spit.
"She—she did?" I asked, like a preteen who just found out their crush wrote about them in her diary.
Zoey grinned. "Yeah. Don't screw it up, Allen."
"No pressure or anything!" I wheezed as she walked away, tossing me a wink like some kind of rom-com fairy godmother.
[Emotional State: Flustered] [Romantic Forecast: Slight Chance of Butterflies]
The rest of the shift was a blur of talking to strangers, scanning weird gadgets, and trying not to hallucinate from the store's signature lemon-scented cleaning spray. (It burned my soul.)
At one point, Marshmallow—yes, my dog—was there. Somehow.
In a shopping cart. Wearing tiny sunglasses.
The manager, who was aggressively named "Carlton," simply said, "Service animal?" and I nodded so hard my brain short-circuited.
By the time the sun dipped and my shift ended, the system pinged again:
[Daily Task Complete!]
[Items Sold: 14!]
[Smiles Earned: 3.5 (One Guy Only Smirked)]
[Reward: $1,500 + Employee of the Day Badge (Temporary!)]
[Happiness System Level Up: +1 Charisma!]
I shuffled home in my too-tight uniform, feet sore but spirits high. I'd done it. Two whole days in the trenches. No meltdowns. No viral TikTok disasters. Just... normal life stuff.
And honestly?
It felt kind of amazing.
The next morning, I was basking in the rare glow of "not completely screwing up," when the system pinged again—cheerful as ever and annoyingly chipper for someone who wasn't running on two slices of cold pizza and stress.
[New Task: Go On a "Not a Date" With Mia]
[Requirement: Casual Clothes, Casual Confidence]
[Reward: $1,200 + Bonus Happiness Points]
[Warning: Don't Be Weird. Seriously.]
Thanks for the faith, system.
The message popped in just as my phone buzzed with a text from Mia:
MIA:
Hey! There's this local night market thing happening tonight. Wanna come with?
Not a date or anything! Just... two people… walking near food stalls… under romantic lighting… lol
Me (internally):
Oh god. It's a date.
It's SO a date.
But she said it's not.
But it IS.
I'M NOT READY.
I texted back something cool, suave, and totally coherent like:
ME:
Yeah totally chill sounds awesome let's do it woohoo
Nailed it.
Cut to five hours later.
I was staring into the abyss that was my closet, which contained:
One good hoodie (slightly ketchup-stained)
One pair of jeans (knees aggressively ventilated)
And a T-shirt that said "404: Social Skills Not Found"
Marshmallow barked once from the bed, as if to say, "You're going out like that? Really?"
"Okay," I muttered, yanking off the hoodie and grabbing a plain black tee. "Fine. No memes tonight."
[Mini-Task: Look Halfway Decent] [Reward: Compliment Buff +$50 Confidence Bonus]
The night market was alive with people, neon lights, sizzling street food, and the distant thrum of indie music from a stage where someone with a ukulele was going way too hard.
And then I saw her.
Mia.
In a sundress.
With a light jacket.
And a smile that made my brain go full static.
"You made it," she said, offering me a corn dog like it was a holy relic.
"Wouldn't miss it," I replied, taking it like it was a sacred object. "Also, I skipped lunch."
We wandered through booths selling everything from spicy dumplings to handmade soaps shaped like butts (Mia absolutely bought one for Zoey), and it was... nice. Simple. Fun. Like we'd been doing this forever.
At one point, I made her laugh so hard she snorted cola through her nose, and I swear the system did a little sparkle noise in celebration.
[New Buff Unlocked: "Natural Dork" - Charm +2] [Happiness Points: +400] [Relationship Level with Mia: Friendly+++ > Flirty?]
We ended the night sitting by the riverwalk, feet dangling over the edge, city lights dancing in the water.
Mia leaned her head against my shoulder.
I forgot how to breathe.
"This was fun," she murmured. "You're… really easy to hang out with."
"Yeah?" I said, heart punching the inside of my ribs like a caged ferret. "You too."
There was a pause.
A soft, charged silence.
And then the system pinged—quietly, respectfully:
[New Task Unlocked: Kiss Her (Only If It Feels Right)]
[Reward: $2,000 + Emotional Satisfaction + Ultra Confidence Buff]
My brain: DO IT.
My heart: YES.
My mouth: "S-So, you wanna get a funnel cake before we go?"
Mia laughed. "Sure."
I was a coward.
But at least I was a charming one.