It was strange, how the West always went a little crazy when Halloween was close — not even close, actually, just when it was the same month as the holiday. October had barely started, but stores all around Trofilos had already begun to hang up decorations, adorning their exteriors with black-and-orange tinsel, fake pumpkins and bat plushies. In fact, it felt like Wang's was one of the only places in the entire city that hadn't transformed into a Halloween haven.

Even Boulangerie Bonnefoy was decorated for the season. Francis had painted a number of black cats and bats on the glass of his cake display, and inside the display were a number of autumn treats. On one stand was a pumpkin pie, on another was a plate of éclairs covered with glossy orange icing, and right in the centre stood a dead tree made out of fondant, caramel spiderwebs strung between the bare branches.

"On Halloween, Matthieu will bring out a bowl full of candy for any kids that pass by," Madeline told him, "and most of the time we run out before ten o'clock."

Vicente picked up one of the nougats she'd placed on the table and examined it. "Do you dress up? You know, to match the trick-or-treaters or something?"

"Francis and I do." She took a nougat from the plate and bit into it. "Last year, he had the brilliant idea of dressing up like Peter Pan despite not looking young in the slightest."

"That's mean, Francis still looks pretty youthful."

Madeline chewed on her nougat, remarking, "he looks like a shrivelled old man and anyone who says otherwise is wrong."

"Ouch." He took another nougat, enjoying the rich pistachio flavour that came from it. "What did you dress up as?"

"Francis somehow got me to play Tinkerbell." She shuddered. "Thank goodness nobody took any photos, or I would've died of embarrassment. Matthieu had the right idea, deciding not to dress up."

"Well, I'm sure you looked great," he said, adding quickly, "but again, you look great every day."

Why did he say that?"

Rosy pink dusted Madeline's cheeks. "Thanks."

"...you're welcome." Maybe the nougat he was eating was poisoned and he'd keel over on the spot. That would be less awkward. "Uh, anyways, these nougats are good." Or maybe he'd choke on the almonds in the candies.

"Matthieu made them," she said. "He's always been better at making candy than pastries." Madeline gestured to the display. "He made the tree."

He looked back at the tree and its intricate, twisted branches. "That's impressive. Did you make the pie?"

"I made the éclairs. It was my first time making something with choux pastry, but thankfully it turned out fine." She glanced at Vicente. "Would you like to try one?"

"No thanks. At least, not now. Er, can I take one home?"

She smiled, and the sight of it made his heart rush. How could the simplest of actions make him blush and act like an idiot?

"You can split it with your siblings." Madeline returned with a plastic box, one of the éclairs inside. "If I recall, Leon has a sweet tooth, right?"

"That's Ling," he corrected. "Leon is the one who can eat everything edible in a supermarket and ask for seconds."

"Oh, right. Anyways, here you go." She pressed the lid shut over the box and handed over to him — or at least tried to. The box fell from her fingers before it could reach him.

Luckily, he managed to catch the box before it hit the ground. "That was close."

"Sorry." Madeline tugged on her sleeves absentmindedly, looking at the floor. "My hand slipped and I couldn't catch it in time."

"It's all right, it's not like the box is made of glass or something." Vicente picked up his bag from the table. "I'll be going now."

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye." He pushed the door open, feeling the cool autumn breeze, and stepped out of the Boulangerie.

…

The moment he got home, Ling grabbed the box holding the éclair before he could explain. "Ooh, you brought this back for us?"

"Yeah." Vicente took the box back and placed it on an empty table, opening the lid. "Can you go ask Leon if he wants any?"

"JIA LONG!" Ling shouted, loud enough to make him jump. "DO YOU WANT FOOD?"

"No thanks," Leon yelled back. Vicente rubbed his ears. "I'm not hungry."

"Leon, not hungry?" Ling said incredulously. "I never thought that was possible." She picked up the éclair and tore it in half, oozing cream over her fingers. "Whatever, that means more for us." She handed a piece to him.

The orange glaze on top of the éclair turned out to be flavoured with orange zest, and it was especially delicious paired with the sweet, smooth vanilla custard that Madeline had filled the pastry with. And the choux pastry itself was light as a cloud, melting in his mouth so quickly that it was like it had never been there in the first place. It seemed Madeline kept outdoing herself, making one culinary masterpiece after another, each one more amazing than the last.

His sister licked cream off her fingers. "Damn, that was really good," she commented.

"I'll tell Madeline you said that." Vicente brushed crumbs off his fingers and closed the lid of the box. "But you're right, it was amazing. I don't think any of her pastries could turn out bad."

"You're so weird, you know, with how you're always so humble when it comes to the things you make, but jump to sing praises about any of Madeline's creations. You're like her personal cheerleader or something."

He shrugged. "It's nice to compliment good things."

"You say that like the stuff you make isn't good."

"I — well — " It took him a while to think of how to reply. "I have you guys to tell me my desserts are good. Francis doesn't say anything nice about Madeline's pastries so there's only Matthieu and I, and Matthieu isn't around much. But, uh, I'm not only saying nice things about her because she has nobody else, because she's genuinely a nice person and I love being around her and it's only fair that people know how talented she is. I probably should've stopped talking a while ago."

"Yeah, you should've." Ling slapped his back, nearly slamming him onto the table. "Now go to the kitchen, we still have a few hours before the day's over."

…

"I bet Leon's going to win."

Yao snorted from next to him. "He's got arms like twigs. The girl's going to win."

"Leon's beat me in arm-wrestling before." Vicente flung a dirty towel over the bench and into the laundry basket waiting beside it. "If he can beat his older brother, he can beat a girl his age."

"You have arms like twigs, too." Yao poured a basin full of freshly-cleaned spoons and forks onto the wiped counter and began drying them off. "Look at that girl, she's built like a wrestler. She could snap Jia Long in half if she tried."

While taking off his apron and hair net, he kept his eyes on his little brother, who was busy having an arm-wrestling contest with one of the last remaining customers. Ling was ogling them in the background while clearing up dirty plates. "If Leon wins, I get to take a shower first."

"And if the girl wins, I take it first?"

"That's a deal."

He'd barely finished that sentence when something crashed outside. Vicente opened the kitchen door and looked out to see Leon with his hand pinned down to the table, the girl sitting across him laughing in triumph. "Darn it, you're going to use up all the hot water."

"Too bad!" Yao pushed out from behind him, watching as Leon flexed his wrist and gave the victor a grudging handshake. "You should've known that Leon's tiny and fragile."

"I can hear you, you know." Leon walked up to them, flexing his wrist. Vicente could see the red lines in the back of his hand where his opponent's fingers had dug in. "I swear, Ella has arms of steel." He waved at Ella as she left the restaurant, holding hands with the smiling girl beside her. "Her girlfriend promised her a kiss if she won, apparently. No wonder she pushed so hard."

"Are you going to ask her for a rematch?" Vicente asked.

"What, do you want to shower with cold water again?"

"Shut up, Yao."

"You're accepting Jia Long's loss even worse than he is." Yao flicked him on the back of his head. "I'm going back upstairs to enjoy my nice hot shower."

As he went back to their apartment, Vicente cleaned up the rest of the kitchen, Leon trailing behind him. "My hand hurts."

"Of course it does."

"I'm never challenging a customer to an arm-wrestling match again."

"Not even if that Ella girl comes back for a rematch?"

"Except if that happens. And if I'm guaranteed to win." He groaned. "Ow."

Ling was still outside, and her voice was muffled from the door as she called, "èr gē!"

Vicente nudged Leon. "Go and see what she wants."

He nudged him back. "No, stupid. She was calling for her second brother. That's you."

"Oh." He hurried out and found her sitting on one of the tables. "What is it?"

Ling lifted her legs up onto the table and began to sit cross-legged. "So you like Madeline."

"What?"

"I was just joking before, but now I'm, like, ninety percent sure you're crushing madly on her. So are you?"

He pulled a chair down from another table and sat down on it. "How did you know?"

"Ah, so you do have a massive crush on her. Not that it wasn't obvious, though." Ling flicked her hair. "What's stopping you from asking her out?"

"Well first of all, we've only known each other for two months."

She huffed. "Time doesn't matter. You two are close, you could easily date. And anyways, some couples have known each other for even less."

"Even then…" Vicente sighed. "Even then, look at me and look at her. She's pretty, amazingly talented and sweet. I'm a whiny gremlin who can't do anything except bemoan his awful life. In fact, that's what I'm doing now."

"Who cares?" Ling crossed her arms. "You need confidence, you idiot. If you can't convince yourself that you're plenty lovable, how are you going to convince Madeline?"

"Okay, say I've gained self-esteem, which is a challenge in itself." He looked up at her, feeling like an idiot as he asked, "what if she doesn't like me back? What if this affects our friendship or something? I don't want to lose a friend just because I like her."

"Hiyah, that's your problem. You think too much and do too little." She kicked his chair. "Stop worrying about hypothetical scenes when you haven't done anything to make them happen. Just do it." She grinned. "Just diu it."

"Ling!"

"What? I'm right." She kicked his chair again. "Go for it. Stop losing sleep over this, because I know you're tossing and turning at the crack of dawn thinking about her or something. It's the same philosophy with most stuff, you know. Don't plan too hard for something, or by the time you've got a strategy in place, it'll be too late to put it in action."

Vicente smiled. "I never thought I'd be getting life advice from my baby sister."

"What do you mean? I'm smarter than all three of you brothers combined." Ling jumped down from the table. "At least, I can function better."