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“Well hey there sweetie! Would you like to buy a duck?” Your voice raised a noticeable octave as you spoke to the child before you and you cringed internally. The child nodded enthusiastically and pushed some money your way. You handed him his rubber ducky and had hi scrawl his name on the registration list. He ran off hurriedly towards his guardians and you let out a sigh. You’d agreed to help run the rubber duck booth for the annual rubber ducky race as a concession to making your friend help you paint your apartment. Most everyone had purchased their ducks and the race was starting soon. You leaned forward and started arranging the ducks according to size and color, “Duck, duck, here’s a duck there’s a duck, duck, duck,” You sang to the tune of Old Mcdonald Had a Farm. You were poking a duck in the head when a shadow fell across the booth. You picked your head up from the desk and put on your best fake volunteer smile. “Hi, Would you like…” Your words stalled as you looked at the man in front of you. His toned body was covered with a button up shirt and well-fitted jeans. Suspenders enhanced the breadth of his shoulders. “…To buy a ducky to benefit the children’s ward?”
He smiled at you ‘I heard your song.” You blushed crimson, “Yes, well, ah, Ducks are two dollars apiece and the race starts in ten minutes. The winner of the race gets dinner for two at Irises in town.” You sputtered out the race details, ignoring his comment about your duck song. He handed over two dollars, still smirking at you and you had him sign on the sheet, “You’re duck number 812. Please report to the start line.” He left with his duck and you let out a sigh of relief. You’d made a fool of yourself in front of the only man you’d seen all day who was remotely attractive. You set your head down and started poking at the ducks again as the MC announced the start of the race. You must have dozed off because your friend kicked your shin and you woke abruptly to the MC’s announcement, “WE have a winner! Duck 008! Report to the duck booth to claim your prize! First place, duck 812!” You jerked upwards in surprise and smacked your head off the back of the booth “Ow!” you exclaimed, rubbing your head, trying not to let the tears escape your eyes from the unexpected pain.
When you opened your eyes the man from before was in front of you again, hands shoved into his pockets and a smug grin on his face. “I’m 812” he said. You shoved the envelope with the gift certificate at him and mumbled a “Congratulations… you’ve won”. You couldn’t help but mimic the awful popup viruses that spam every computer. Your friend began to snicker next to you and you glared at her. Your head still hurt and this golden mangod was not helping at all. He was still standing in front of you, looking at you expectantly, “I’m sorry, did you say something?” you asked. His grin dropped half an inch, but he brought it back up again, “I said, will you go to dinner with me tonight?” You gaped openly at him, “Me?” you ask, pointing at yourself. He nodded and laughed. “Uhm, No, ah, sorry, I have plans.” You looked meaningfully at your friend, begging her to back you up from making a fool of yourself with this stranger. She offered no support as he looked at you expectantly, “I’m not taking no for an answer”. You looked at him, getting frustrated and embarrassed. You didn’t even know his name. “Look, I don’t know you. I don’t know anything about you, and you know nothing about me. Please, take some bimbo to Irises. I’m not interested.” You turned away from him, meeting a glare from your friend that said *how dare you! He’s a hottie!* You turned back towards the front of the booth and lay your head on the table, poking at the duck’s head again. Your friend rolled her eyes and went to help collect the remaining ducks from the race.
The man lowered himself to face you, going down on his knees in his nice pants. “I’m Song Mino, and you are?” You ignored him, still pushing at the duck. He began to rearrange them in size order. There were about ten ducks on your booth and you almost reacted when he took the one you were playing with, but you controlled yourself and ignored him. He began to move them and sing, not the same song you had been, but something he was making up. “…footbath! Don’t know!” You couldn’t help but crack a smile. As he kept singing you started to giggle. He was moving the ducks and singing without filter. He was so cute kneeling on the ground. He put the last duck down and looked at you hopefully. “Irises at seven?” You giggled, your hand covering your mouth and nodded. “I’m _____” you said, “You’ll need a reservation”.