Wax

Thirty Six

A/N: Hewo Beans! Sorry I'm about an hour late. I wrote this skeleton yesterday thinking I was some kind of god and could finish that amount of content in a day but lo and behold, a severe case of over-estimation HAHAHA. I decided to publish it anyway since according to the question I asked previously, Beans would prefer weekly updates no matter the length over long chapters over 2 weeks. 

This week was terrible for me. My parents tested positive for COVID and they had to be shut in a room each while I looked after their needs and made sure they were okay. I'm still in the middle of that and I'm doing my best to take good care of them while they are down but it's been a little tough with work and all. 

I hope you enjoy this one. It was exciting to write!

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[Vanilla]

"Chef Tenner. Culinary dean of Le Cordon Bleu. Prior experience: head chef of VIDA, three-star Michelin restaurant in Portugal."

I'd reacted on instinct—turning to Leroy who had, along with the other chefs lined alongside one another below the platform, their attention on a waving Layla heading down the aisle in her usual disposition. The room was very much in her hands; everyone had not expected the young and established twenty-four-year-old with a three-star Michelin restaurant under her belt to turn up in the peak of her career. Time was of the essence when it came to a chef in the spotlight. This should be her period of maximum growth, and for her to think being part of the show could yield, sufficiently, said results, well... frankly, I'd disagree.

Still, questions remained. Leroy's reaction could not hold a candle to those gasping or gawking in surprise and awe at the last participating member of the show's chef lineup. The chef herself had a brilliant smile on her face as she waved, her attention fixed on the three of us up on the platform. Andre could be likened to a wide-eyed goldfish, and others with their hands over their mouths and either fear or admiration in their eyes.

There was a mere subtle shake of Leroy's head, as though this was culinary school and he was, once again, made to put up with her huge personality and flair. Needless to say, I'd expected a display of surprise that could, at the very least, level my own. After all, it had been years since they last met, and, well, Leroy hadn't exactly left the school after a proper farewell.

He'd met Chen in passing. Raul, the other day, at my office. Violet too, for his debut as the idiot mystery chef a-and so that's why Violet's been avoiding me. Good god I'll have to give her a call later, now's not the time to be distracted.

The bottom line was: Leroy did not seem a tad bit surprised by Layla's arrival. And though my senses tingled at present—a sign of something amiss—I had no choice but to brush it off and wait till after the shoot to entertain stray thoughts.

The moment all thirteen chefs were revealed and lined up accordingly, Chef Pao jumped straight into business and got the ball rolling.

"We all know you're excited to be travelling. To be learning new cuisines and how different cultures affect the food they make in the kitchen. But first, we'll start things off by introducing something we like to call... Banilla, I need you to say this," he turned my way with the velvet box containing a prized gold-plated brooch in the shape of a chef's hat, yet another instance of unscripted sprinkles.

"The toque blanche."

"Ay," he gestured with a teasing chef's kiss before turning back to the contestants. "You all here are chefs. You know what that means. It's the chef's hat. Every round has a main challenge—and if you win it, you call the shots in the next main challenge."