Vanilla

Forty Three

A/N: Hello everyone! Unfortunately, this chapter is a little short and definitely doesn't have the usual number of scenes I'd like to hit in every update and it's because I fell sick halfway through ;-; so I'm just uploading where I'd left it at before being banished to le bed. At least I got to watch Ratatouille. Hehe. Ah, most mainstream media revolving around the culinary world somehow seem to have critics as antagonists, painted in a very uneven and unrealistic light. Anton Ego is a rare species. I don't think I've seen anyone portray a critic so pleasantly apt.

You may have been one of the readers who'd thought of bringing hell upon Alfred Dempsey (Vanilla's uncle) after reading his review of Chip's bakery in Beyond Love; and that is the odd magic of being a critic—one is immediately associated with the negative connotation of criticism when, frankly speaking, there is an equally likely definition of it being the mere analysis and judgement of the merits and faults of a certain piece of work. No one likes being criticised.

People say that being a critic is easy but for all intents and purposes, it is a role of utmost bravery and courage. To put oneself at risk of being dismissed as a mere hater, as what Rachel had done to Dempsey; to have the common tongue call one 'pompous' and 'stuck up' for having a superior sense of taste (as what many readers have done). I'm very keen on writing more about what made Vanilla choose this path and how he's had the courage to follow in his uncle's footsteps. No crowd pleaser is suited for the role of a critic—one cannot always be rating every restaurant five stars. That is a coward. Not a critic. While truth, honesty and objectiveness remains as the holy trinity of a critic, these attributes unfortunately do not come without the courage to pursue it. Our bespectacled bean happens to be one such person.

Oh and I'm not sure if Bakers have realised, but Rachel was created in direct juxtaposition to Chip's reaction to being criticised. Both received equally harsh criticism from the same person. One was able to whole-heartedly accept it whilst trying to understand their point of view. The other, not so.

Oops, I've once again written a mini-essay. My apologies. Enjoy!

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[Leroy]

I joined the row of 'C's without thinking twice, spotting the top of Chen's head sticking out from the crowd and just casually sliding myself between two random people and pretending I was there all along. Plan sort of failed because for some reason, people couldn't stop looking at my shirt and I was about to ask why the hell they weren't minding their own business when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to face the school's number one, who was great at telling me how bad I was with time.

Then he, too, paused mid-sentence, frowning at something on my collar. "You—oh my fucking god, Cox. You could've just told me you guys were dating instead of baring your fangs all the time." He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes with an exasperated snort.

I was getting nothing from whatever he had to say and was about to follow his gaze down to my shirt when the gears in my heard started turning right on cue. Three whole seconds later, I could feel my lips stretch into a smirk. "Is it blue?"

He flipped me off. The amusement, I felt in my chest; bubbling. It was hard not to start smiling like an idiot.

"Explains why he always seemed to have some sort of excuse. If you'd told me sooner, I would've backed off, you know," he sighed. "I was under the impression we were on equal standing and that I still had a chance. You were pretty obvious about how you felt but White was, like. Business mode twenty-four-seven."