𝔐𝔶 𝔈𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔗𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯... │𝕬 𝕹𝖆𝖒𝖏𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖈│

Gin: Chapter 21ツ

Y/n POV:

Making my way to the restaurant section, I took out my little notepad and pen for the orders I'm sure I'm about to receive. 

I pray I don't meet some stuck up people, I had too much on my plate already. I already miss talking shit with Soonji.

It would be a horrible lie to say I was in my most present mental state, it's so sudden that Mr. Kim isn't who I'd expect him to be. If he was so well off, so powerful and dangerous...

What's he doing as a 12th grade English Teacher? He seems to be serious about it too.

It's best to just avoid him altogether, it was obvious from his glare that he didn't want his fellow student finding out about him. 

The restaurant was as busy as usual, with well dressed people left and right. Just standing there made you feel the ginormous lights peering down, as the white walls with artistic carvings looked more expensive then you ever will. Just this section was worth over 7 million dollars, with no doubt.

"Excuse me young lady!" I hear a gentle, warm voice as soon as I enter the room completely. 

An old, elegantly dressed lady sat with a blue velvety blazer and a long, matching blue business skirt, smiling my way to indicate it was her whom I had just heard. She sat with a young man in a sophisticated black suit.

Smiling back, I make my way to her with nice posture.

"Good evening ma'am, would you like to place your order?" I inquire, getting my pen and notepad ready for some listings of food to be written down. 

The evening goes on, as I take orders and attend customers. 

.

.

.

The hands on the clock tik without notice, an hour passes by unknowingly. Working my way through the hours, I get informed that I needed to work over time as the customers were only increasing and arriving for the welcome party.

I may have had a certain someone on my mind, but I was gonna make sure to focus through those distractions. It was important to do so, it's not like I had a choice!

Plus, does a 27 year old think that he could disturb and take over my little, tiny brain?! No! He shall NEVER get that satisfaction.

NEVER!

"Y/n!" A voice calls from the kitchen, cutting through my self talk, making me look over to the kitchen area. The kitchen area was larger then an average sized house, with different appliances for each kind of cuisine. The Italian section of the kitchen was very far inside, what's the main chef doing here? 

I recognized the man as he once made me late night dinner on a late, late night shift. I suppose he saw how tired and hungry I was, and sneaked me an amazing dish, as I ate in the back of the kitchen.

I will never forget how those pieces of gnocchi melted in my watering mouth, as the simple yet precisely hand made tomato sauce was filled with bursts of citric flavor. He had genuine magic in his hands. At least that's what I'd like to believe.

He was very kind, and I really did have respect towards him, as many other prestigious chefs pretend that others are of no use unless they are buying the food they make. Of course, paying the buck.

I race over, speed walking there after quickly scribbling down an order, on the brown notepad in my hand.

"Yes?" I question, really wanting to know why he was out of the kitchen. 

In all honestly, I was surprised it was him who had called for my name. Being the main Italian chef, he was busy to the point where I had not even seen him take his hands off pans, knives and ingredients.

And oh dear was today just beginning, and was already the busiest I have ever seen.

My eyes travel to where he had something carefully placed in his hand.

That's one expensive and refined looking bottle if I've ever seen one... I've seen a lot.

"Could you please take this bottle to the top most floor, room 1? It's very important, that's why I'm entrusting this task you..." I hear a hesitant voice, yet stern letting me know he was serious.

"Oh yes, I will do it" ensuring him, I rip the first page on the notepad with the orders on it, and handed it to him, as we exchanged what was in our hands. 

"I'll get these dishes to be made, but promise me it will go directly to that room" he makes me commit, seemingly restless.

"You can trust me chef, you really can" I say, sounding as confident as I could. 

As I held the bottle, I felt it's coldness on my bare skin. The label was shiny with no words, though I could recognize that it was Gin. Dang, all this for some alcohol? But it's one beautiful bottle for an alcohol, just looking at it makes me believe it's worth some ones rent.

It had a pretty leaf design, it's green really popping. With different shades, the light from the chandelier reflected onto the glass. How does a Gin bottle look this so visually appealing. 1 thing that does surprise me, is this particular brand.

I've never seen it available for others, or even seen this in general.

I set off to the room with one thing on my mind, I'm doomed if I drop this.

I really don't want to drop it, and I know I won't... but fuck paranoia man!

I really wonder who this bottle is for, we usually don't deliver something this exquisite to their door steps.

END OF CHAPTER 21...°

Please comment and vote if you enjoyed ツ

Author- Note:

Good luck Y/n <3