Folarin jogged into the massive structure that was The Rouge Effect once he parked his car. The bright white walls still didn't sit right with him as he walked down the passage way, something he had mentioned about with Chef Rouge as sharing similarities to a mental facility. Needless to say, the Chef didn't take kindly to that statement, and had him punished by cooking for eight hours straight.
Folarin tilted his cap in greeting to the female students that walked past him, and he smiled when he heard the not-so-hushed compliments that followed after. He was Folarin Ade-Cole, the known mentee of the Chef Rouge himself, there was a certain pride that came with that.
Chef Rouge prided himself on the Institute's pristine symphony of elegance and efficiency. As Folarin peeked into different classes, he could see the gleaming stainless steel appliances and countertops. The aroma of spices lingered in the air as the clinking of utensils accompanies the sizzling of pans, creating an atmosphere alive with culinary creativity. Modern light fixtures hung from high ceilings, casting a warm glow on the meticulously organized kitchens.
Rows of pictures added colours to the walls, and the more Folarin walked, the more he passed by pictures of past students of the institute, the successes of the institute, and many of the likes. He knew where to find Chef Rouge at that time of the day, and as he opened the black double doors to one of the largest classes, he met Chef Rouge alone there, several papers before him as he wrote.
Chef Rouge looked up, the strictness of his persona carved into the impassiveness of his face. His beard and hair were peppered with flecks of grey, and a face that showed he spent good money on skincare as well as food. He would have been a catch if he wasn't looking perpetually like he wanted to murder someone, and those eyes were currently trained on Folarin.
"What's up, Chef?" Folarin said as a greeting.
"Do me a favour Folarin, would you?" Came the Chef's accented voice. It was not quite foreign, yet not quite Nigerian, but in the middle of the two accents. "Help me check today's date."
"February 31st." Folarin answered. He took the stool directly opposite the Chef, and the Chef didn't stop in his writing.
"Answer the question, Fola," the Chef ordered.
"It's March 3, Chef." Folarin answered correctly.
"You could have fooled me into thinking it was April 1st," Chef Rouge said. "Because that cast on your hand must be a joke."
"This?" Folarin raised the cast hand. "Give it a few days, it's nothing."
Chef Rouge's pen screeched on his notepad. Steely eyes met Folarin's.
"Your hands are not 'nothing'", he said. "And I expect more carefulness from you most especially. Tell me how you got that."
"We went climbing..."
"Climbing?" Chef Rouge scoffed. "You are unserious, Fola. When between you making the decision to do that and actually going through with it did you stop and realize it was an idiotic move?"
"When I remembered the video I watched of a lady using her legs to cook," Folarin said. "Are you telling me right now that I only need my hands when that cute young lady online is making waves and cooking exquisite dishes using her feet? Is that it, Chef?"
Chef's Rouge's left eye twitched. Folarin dared to give a satisfied grin.
"Did you see the article the food critic wrote about you?" Chef Rouge asked instead and resumed writing.
"No," Folarin pulled out his phone. He browsed out his name, and sure enough, there was a new article on him. Quietly, he read through it.
"Well?" Chef Rouge said after some time.
"Chef Folarin Ade-Cole on mesmerizing our taste buds, one bite at a time," Folarin read out the title, and blew out a breath of air. "First of all, I think the writer should be sacked. That's a crappy title. Other than that, I look good in the picture."
"You are rising in the Culinary world, and I want to keep it that way," Chef Rouge said. "It also speaks well of our institute, and for you as my mentee."
"A bit narcissistic, don't you think?" Folarin mumbled.
"Your affiliation with The Rouge Effect will take you places, and as my mentee, I expect nothing less than the best," Chef Rouge said. "So, I have a proposition for you."
He shifted his notepad to Folarin. Folarin looked between it and the Chef, then grabbed it off the table as he perused the content.
"You want me to lead the next cohort of the intermediary class?" Folarin asked, the surprise evident in his tone.
"Not without help of course," Chef Rouge smiled, if a twitch of the lips was considered a smile. "You have the head Chefs at a standby. They will be in every class, monitoring you. It's a training for you."
"But I...I don't know if I am ready to take on teaching..."
"Is that doubt I hear?" Chef Rouge asked, pinning Folarin with one of his intense stares. "If as a product of The Rouge Effect you are having doubts at this stage, leave. I can't deal with an ounce of doubt. Courage is the watchword at..."
"I get it, Chef, I was just surprised, that's all," Folarin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll do it. It's just, you are springing it on me out of the blue. I hope the pay will be worth it."
"You are affiliated to The Rouge Effect, no payment could surpass that," Chef Rouge said.
"Understand, but how much are we talking in money?" Folarin asked. "Yes, I am still a sous chef in training, but I am way past sous chef and you know that. So seeing as you have given me such generous responsibility, how much are we talking?"
Chef's Rouge's eye began to twitch again. Folarin had come to learn that his eye twitching wasn't a good sign, but his mouth twitching was. And so, he sat and waited for the Chef. With nimble dexterity and the grace of a seasoned chef, Chef Rouge's fingers deftly twirl the ballpen in his hand, spinning and rotating with the same elegance that he employed when whisking sauces or plating dishes, reminiscent of the delicate knife work required in culinary arts.
"How do I dare ask for money? How silly of me. The experience at The Rouge Effect," Folarin mentioned the institute's name with an exaggerated French accent. "Is enough. Thanks Chef. You just changed my life."
He knew the Chef had been a breath away from dealing with him, and he couldn't handle any punishment with his cast hand.
The Chef slid another paper to him, and Folarin perused that as well.
"You could have just emailed me all these, you know?" Folarin said.
"It's still in the works, I need you to have a look at it before I do that," Chef Rouge said.
"There is an online scholarship." Folarin noted with interest. "Last time you did this was how long ago? Three years? What made you decide to bring it up again?"
"As you know, The Rouge Effect doesn't need marketing to show how it surpasses every culinary institute in the country, but a scholarship can be a way to find the the diamond in the rough," Chef Rouge said, a dreamy look in his eyes. "It's for everyone and anyone, and I decided, it should be a biannual thing. Good, yes?"
"I guess, I'm not opposed to the idea," Folarin shrugged. "Just it being biannual is a bit of a stretch. Make it an annual thing."
"Well, we'll see, as for now, focus on studying everything you can," Chef Rouge bent down and came back up with a stack of three heavy books, and dumped them with a thud on the table. "That's all for now. See me in a month's time before I travel."
"And where are you off to?" Folarin asked. He was met with the eye twitch, and he rose.
"Alright, give me the books. Let's ignore my bandaged wrist," Folarin said. Chef Rouge did exactly that, and Folarin grunted as he stabilized himself under the weight of the books.
"And Fola," Chef Rouge called as he walked out. "I'm counting on you to make me proud. Show me that you have..."
"...The Rouge Effect, yes, Chef. I mesmerize one taste bud a bite at a time, remember? How could such a person let you down?"
_
_
_
When Folarin parked inside his compound of his house, he was immediately followed in by someone. He had spoken to his mother to get the automatic lock checked, for it worked slower than ever, and in this case, someone was able to rush inside, even if that someone was the girlfriend of his good friend.
In front of him, he had seen Reggie and Tayo had stepped out. He really imagined his day would go smoothly after meeting with Chef Rouge. He wanted to cook up a meal, read, and maybe play some games.
And yet, there was the entity called Tiwa already yelling Reggie's ears off.
He stepped out of his car, and Reggie was trying to calm his ex-girlfriend down. She was like a wild animal on the loose, and as Reggie tried to hold her, she kept shouting, "Don't touch me!"
Folarin was grateful his mother wasn't home. She hated this kind of drama at her doorstep.
"Why didn't you pick my calls?" Tiwa yelled at Reggie.
"I told you," Reggie said, as calm as ever. "I have no idea where my phone is. I woke up this morning and I can't find it."
"So it disappeared? And you didn't bother to even beg me when you were in the wrong! Reggie, what are we? Answer me truthfully because I cannot believe we are boyfriend and girlfriend..."
"Boyfriend and girlfriend?" Folarin piped in as he casually strolled to the group. "I thought it was you who broke up with him, so why are you expecting him to come back?"
Tiwa pointed a really long manicured nail in Folarin's direction, an evidence of the witch she was.
"Reggie, tell this Fola or whatever his name is, not to put mouth in our discussion," Tiwa warned. "Tell him please."
"It isn't exactly a discussion with just one person doing all the talking," Folarin said.
"Fola, guy, let it be." Reggie said.
"All these days I have been letting your comments slide, it's all for Reggie's sake. The way I have slapped you in my imagination ehn, it's beginning to hungry me to slap you in real life," Tiwa threatened.
"Reggie," Folarin called his friend, waiting for him to say something.
"Look, Tiwa, I am serious, I don't have my phone on me, I can't find it," Reggie said.
"I don't believe you. You must be texting other girls. You think because you're fine you can get anyone? This is why I hate dating men that think the world of their physical looks. You can never find someone else like me, Reggie, never!," Tiwa said.
Ameen, Folarin almost said, but out of respect to his friend, he kept mum.
"I really don't want to do this right now, Tiwa," Reggie said. "I'm sorry I forgot your mum's birthday, but it wasn't on purpose. Can we talk some other time?"
"Why? So you can go in and talk to other girls? Is that it? I break up with you and you don't value me enough to want me back?" Tiwa asked. Then, she burst into tears, and Folarin rolled his eyes. "If you know how much I have been thinking of you, day and night, I almost went crazy."
Folarin looked at Tayo. This time, it was Tayo who rolled his eyes.
"And just to pick your calls, you are telling me..."
"...the truth, Babe," Reggie said. "That's the truth."
"Reggie's right," Folarin said. He searched in the back pocket of his cargo pants, and pulled out the iPhone. Reggie's phone. "I had to take it."
"Guy, why?" Reggie asked, rubbing a perplexed hand over his braids.
"Because you've broken up, and you needed the space," Folarin said. "Reggie, TY and I are tired of this. Let this be the end and move on. She's going to land you in therapy if you keep seeing her."
What Folarin didn't expect next was the slap that landed squarely on his face.
"Yei!" Tayo screamed.
"You dare stand between the love of Reggie and I," Tiwa seethed. "How dare you?"
"Tiwa," Reggie's voice was stoic. "Get out."
"Babe," Tiwa's waterworks returned. "Babe, you saw the way he talked to me. I was so worried all day and he..."
"Get out," Reggie said again. "You have no right to come in here and slap my friend. So leave. I don't have anything more to say to you."
The tears stopped instantly. Tiwa was boiling, and she was proof that light-skinned black people could turn a violent red colour.
"Don't come begging me," She warned Reggie, and stomped off in her high heels.
"Fola...," Reggie called to his now silent friend. Folarin held up a hand, and he shoved Reggie's phone in his friend's hand.
"My fault," Folarin said. Turning to Tayo, he said, "And you TY, I swear I would get back to you."
"What did I do?" Tayo asked, surprised. "And why did you put mouth in their matter?"
But Folarin couldn't just stand by, especially with someone like Tiwa. He had known from the get-go that she was unhealthy for his friend, but a year down in their on-and-off relationship, they were still going on.
He rubbed at his cheek, and walked back into the house. Reggie, however, took his phone, and blocked Tiwa's number.
There were some things that were unforgivable, and that included maltreatment of a friend that was like a brother.