A Mediocre Menu

London Heathrow Airport - West London, England.

Eun-Ji scrutinized the menu with a subtly raised eyebrow, her expression betraying minimal enthusiasm for the available options. When the waiter arrived, she spoke with an air of decisive authority. "I'll have the Grilled Salmon Salad, but hold the feta cheese, add extra avocado, make the dressing on the side, and can you substitute quinoa for the mixed greens? Oh, and grilled instead of poached salmon. And a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, preferably the 2019 Cloudy Bay." The waiter, a bit flustered, nodded and hurried away to relay the complex order.

As she awaited her customized meal, Eun-Ji's attention shifted to her cellphone, but soon turned to people watching. A faint familiar buzzing crept into in her head. She massaged her temples, a response to the recurring sensation that placated it. The buzzing, a constant companion since her induction as a Bee at age 11, had become a part of her life, an ever-present hum that she had learned to navigate with practiced ease. As a minor, she had no autonomy or wisdom to entertain the buzzing, and over time learned to simply ignore it at the behest of her parents.