TURBO // carmen berzatto

arsonist fantasies

Carmy slipped through the door as if he was made of water; effortlessly, quickly. “Chef?” He called, relishing in the way that his voice echoed through the empty restaurant.

Syd had yet to come into the restaurant, which was a shock, as she usually always beat Carmy in. He was all alone, staring down the entirely deserted expo. If he was better rested, maybe he wouldn’t have been wondering what Mikey thought when he opened the same doors every morning.

If he squinted hard enough through his dry, tired eyes he could see Mikey sitting on top of the counter, not a care in the world for sanitation as he smoked a cigarette indoors and fantasized about burning the place down.

Carmy could barely entertain the idea of burning the place down himself before Syd came bursting through the door. “Sorry! The L got delayed.” Syd shuffled into her spot, rolling out her collection of knives.

Carmy shook his head, snapping himself out of his Michael drenched arsonist fantasy. “No worries, Chef. I’ll, uh, start on the onions.”

Syd nodded, heading to the walk-in to grab meat to start prepping. Only once Sydney’s back was turned, Carmy let himself exhale. He scared himself, getting all caught up in a vision of Michael that he had never seen. The bastard never let him into the restaurant, why would it even have mattered to him if Michael burnt the place down?

Carmy quickly started chopping once Sydney returned. “How are you, Chef?”

“I’m, uh, I’m well.” Sydney nodded.

“First night in the new place?”

A small smile spread onto Sydney’s face. She had finally saved up enough money to get an apartment of her own. It was a tearful goodbye, leaving her dad in the apartment by himself, but he was proud of the success that his daughter had found. Her dad’s apartment wasn’t too far from her new place, so even if he did need anything, she was only a few blocks down.

“Yeah, it was really nice. Made myself a peanut butter sandwich and hung some posters. Felt like a fuckin’ college freshman all over again.”

Carmy snickered, a small dip in his heart knowing that he never got to experience that chapter of life, though simultaneously knowing that if he had been able to, perhaps he wouldn’t ever be here.

“I’m glad you’re loving it.” He spoke, truthfully. “You really deserve it.”

Carmy’s eyes flickered over to Sydney for just a moment longer before returning to look at the veg he was cutting. His brain battled between flashing images of an incredibly happy Sydney, madly in love with her new apartment, and an incredibly deranged Michael, madly setting the restaurant ablaze.

He couldn’t shake the image of the restaurant in flames. Fire had been a recurring image in his most recent nightmares of New York. He’d either accidentally start a fire on the line and subsequently get his ass handed to him by Chef, or someone else would start the fire, but Chef would blame Carmy for not paying enough attention to his own team. Only in one nightmare did the New York restaurant burn down, and Carmy woke up with a strange sense of calmness.

Typically, waking up from a nightmare meant massive beads of sweat soaking into his sheets and muscles so shaky he’d never make it as a surgeon. However, three nights ago, when he dreamt of the Noma, the restaurant he worked his ass off to work in, went up in flames, he woke up with a fright, but one that was quickly settled by a few deep breaths. Perhaps it was because he dreamt that Chef was inside the whole time.

What kind of monster was he to wish the man he looked up to to burn to death in a kitchen fire? Sure, he was a hard ass, a perfectionist, an A-1 verbal abuser, but he didn’t deserve to fucking die.

Middle-of-the-night Carmy didn’t have it in him to wrestle with the psychological reasoning of the dream. Instead, he took a long drink of water and let himself slip back asleep.

Perhaps he wished it was The Beef and Michael in the place of Noma and Chef. If Michael wanted to die, it would have been less painful to chalk it up to a freak kitchen accident, rather than the unmistakable act of shooting yourself in the head without a note. With the gun, he had time to write a note, time to plan it. If the restaurant burnt down, how could he have planned for that?

Carmy figured that he just wanted a note, and left it at that.

“Chef?”

Carmy was brought back to reality by the sound of Syd’s snapping fingers.

“Fuck, sorry.” He blinked hard. “What were you sayin’?”

“I'm askin’ if you're still with me. Dude, you're fuckin’ in outer space.” Syd chuckled.

“Yeah, sorry. I just didn't sleep well last night. I had a dream that…” He cut himself off before he could start divulging the twisted story of his nightmare. “Nevermind.”

“No!” Syd laughed. “Tell me, what did you have a dream you fucked Claire over this very prep station, or something?”

Carmy always loved Syd's sense of humor, not afraid to take it a step further. It was refreshing. He couldn't joke like that around Claire. Speaking of Claire, God he needed to text her back.

“Fuck off.” Carmy laughed. “No, I didn't have a sex dream.”

Sydney snickered. “Then what was it?”

Carmy sucked his teeth, running his tongue over his teeth. “I had a dream that Noma burnt down.”

Syd scoffed. “Okay! That's like psycho shit, that's cool.”

Carmy shook his head. “Something like that.”

Sydney moved to the next cut of meat to begin prepping. Her words were punctuated by the rhythmic slapping of the meat tenderizer. “Do you have psycho dreams like that often?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

Syd rolled her eyes. “Carm, be serious. Even if it doesn't happen a lot, it's obviously affecting you.”

“They come and go. Usually it's Mikey burning this place down, but last night it just…escalated. It was Noma, and the exec was inside, and it was just…crazy.” Carmy muttered.

Sydney was slowly picking up the cues. “The same exec that you said was a real hardass?”

Carmy nodded, remembering the night after the first dinner service at The Bear. Family had long ended, and everyone had gone home, but Carmy and Syd split a bottle of wine and just talked. She confessed everything that got fucked with Sheridan, and Carmy confessed everything about what he was doing in New York. This was when he found out that he had made Sydney's favorite meal of her life, and when Sydney found out that Carmy's muscular frame wasn't always around.

“More than a hardass, but yes.”

Sydney nodded, “Right. But you dreamed he was burnt alive?”

“Yeah.” Carmy let a large exhale out, his cuts getting sharper and faster.

“Would you like him to burn alive? And take the restaurant with him?”

“Well, between him and Mikey, I don't know which I'd choose.” Carmy admitted.

Sydney's eyes immediately flicked over to her business partner, seeing a wave of exhaustion pass over him. She glanced at the clock before laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Why don't you go take a nap in the office? We still got two hours until everyone comes.”

Carmy nodded, knowing it was what was best for him. He wouldn't have been brave enough to ask for the nap time himself. “Thank you, Chef.”

Sydney nodded, a soft smile on her lips. “Carm!” She called after him, watching his arms snake around his back to untie his apron.

“Yes, chef?”

“I love you. Arsonist fantasies and all.”

Carmy broke a small smile. “I love you, too.”