a little bit of black with a little bit of pink

My Love Is Like a Red, Red Rose, part 1

Two shops next to each other.

One a florist, one a tattoo parlour.

Two people.

One a bubbly ball of sunshine, the other a punk with a bad attitude.

Guess who runs which.

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Lisa sighed, rearranging a bouquet of flowers with force that was probably unnecessary.

"Woah, what did the hydrangeas ever do to you?" Jisoo joked from the storeroom.

"That incessant noise has been going on for three days now. And I live above this damn shop, so I can't even go home to escape from it."

"It's not that bad."

Just as Jisoo said that, a particularly loud string of construction noises made Lisa throw the flowers across the shop in frustration. Luckily the shop was empty of customers (as it often was) so the bouquet just lay on the floor, looking sad.

"Dude, we gotta sell those!" Jisoo walked over, picked up the flowers and placed them on the display to her right. Lisa put her head in her hands. If the noise wasn't bad enough, it had stopped her from sleeping, which was the perfect recipe for splitting headaches. And the work day had been slow, even for a derelict florists that usually only got one or two customers anyway.

"How about you go home early? Try and catch up on that sleep?" Jisoo offered.

"I doubt I'll be able to sleep with that noise," Lisa said, but she smiled and picked up her bag anyway. "Thanks, Jisoo."

"No problem," the girl waved at Lisa as she walked out of the shop.

It was literally five steps from the shop to her front door, but for some reason Lisa found herself curious to find out what exactly was going on next door that warranted the endless bombardment of hammering and drilling.

She walked over to the shop right next to hers. It used to be a cafe, but got shut down because of some sort of horse meat scandal, and it had been a vacant space for the past few years. Now, however, it seemed someone was using it again.

The place was still unpainted, but she could peek inside the window and make out people walking around carrying planks of wood and chairs. Probably another cafe.

When a particularly loud power tool caused a shot of pain to her temple, Lisa straightened up and decided to give them a piece of her mind. They couldn't just make that much noise twenty-four-seven and think they were gonna get away with it.

She opened the door and stepped into the shop. The smell of varnish and paint assaulted her nostrils. Five burly men were lugging about chairs and playing awful country music much too loud, but the sound of the offensive drilling was nowhere to be seen.

"Excuse me?" Lisa asked. When no one took any notice of her, she raised her voice. "Excuse me?!"

There was once again no reaction. Boiling with anger, she stormed over to the radio and pulled the plug out of the wall, causing a sudden silence that had her ears ringing. Unfortunately, the quiet was short lived as the construction noises started up again and seemed to be getting even louder. Everybody in the room turned to stare at her, annoyed. She put on a sickly sweet smile and tilted her head to the side.

"Now," she began in a dangerously soft tone, "who here is going to tell me who's making that god forsaken din, or am I going to have to kill everyone here, instead of just them?"