Wax

Forty One

A/N: Hewooo!!! I'm sorry I skipped last week's update so to make up for it this week is two updates long ;v; and I've already written the skeleton for next week so it's going to be a breeze for me to finish it hehe. It'll probably also be a longer chapter next week cuz I can't hold back on some FLUFF dammit I need me some P H Y S I C A L but the writer me is like: hello? plot? and then my thirty ass is like: w-wait but they haven't touched in so long omg?

Picture is Leroy's dish of the day :> hehe

Enjoy!

ALSO, I'LL BE HEADING TO LOS ANGELES FOR A BUSINESS TRIP IN JULY EEP how exciting!!! I've never been to the US my whole life im scared

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[Vanilla]

"The answers were in the script?" I repeated after Chef Streisand, carefully navigating through my memories and realizing I'd missed a page or two entirely. "I... Sorry, I must have skipped it entirely. What a disaster that could've been! Goodness, I'm so, so sorry. I promise it'll never happen again."

"Yes Vanilla but if you'd just listen to me," she put a hand on my shoulder, gaze fairly serious but with a teasing lilt in her voice. "You'd realize what a bigger disaster it could've been had you memorized the answers. You understand that was all Andre was trying to get at? He saw through the production team's gimmick. Not the greatest feat, I'd say—I mean, it was fairly obvious but clearly, he picked a fight with the wrong person. You'd probably fare better than mere mortals trying to memorize an answer key given to them before the start of an exam."

I coughed. "You think too highly of me, Chef Streisand, but I understand what you're trying to tell me. I'll be careful. Don't you worry. And again, thank you for the warning."

She shook her head, folding her arms and resting her gaze on Chef Andre from afar. "You never know. And with all the scripting going on... I mean, we're about to shoot the team sorting sequence, so."

I nodded. She smiled, then gave the cue to return; we were back in place before the end of the break. Quick as the wind, I searched for Chicken and promptly returned sleeping Leo to his original position on the former's back. Not a stir! Practically immune to the chaos happening all around him. His fellow partner, too, was exceptionally well-behaved for a dog carrying a kitten companion on his back and made no fuss over the additional weight. Or the fact that they were two completely different beings.

This therefore justified a search for Chicken's owner; possibly offering a word of thanks on behalf of my little one and perhaps a special treat or two once we were back in Portofino.

My gaze was on his back before I knew it was. He appeared occupied—speaking to someone else who had a phone in her hands and the screen of it angled in a way so that both could view its contents. I merely observed for a moment or two before looking away. I'd seen her around the production team, returning from coffee runs and relaying messages from one team to another. The simplest, most plausible conclusion was that she had been tasked with communicating key information to certain members of the cast.

The crew called for places before I could wait for an opportune moment to approach Leroy, so it was back to work. N-not that prior thoughts were, in any way, non-work-related.

"Cameras rolling!" "Sound rolling." The cue.

"Now, teams..." Chef Pao took the lead and the moment he did, I zoned out. In that instant, I knew it was the nerves; an anticipation, part fear and part eagerness to get this over and done with—knowing what was about to come next. "...Amelia and Banilla will take turns to draw your names out of a box. Those drawn by Amelia will be in the blue team. Our best critic here will look after the red team."