F O U R Y E A R S A G O
Music filled the room, the soft melody bouncing off of the white walls, filling such empty space with such emotion. The room was empty, aside from herself, but the music leaked through the walls, past the door.
Her family heard the melody, and some of them paused to listen, the song too hauntingly beautiful to pass by. But no one stopped to tell her, to acknowledge the talent she has always possessed. Instead they would linger by the door, scurrying when they thought they might get in trouble.
"HEEELLLOOOOO!"
The piano keys halted.
Two brunettes broke through the door, their twin grins immediately giving the girl a headache. "Nutmeg, Allmeg, what do you want?" [Name's] voice was dry, uninviting, but the sisters didn't seem to notice (or care).
Nutmeg sat on one side of her while Allmeg took the other. "Aren't you embarrassed by that mopey music?"
"I'm sure any guy would much prefer your sweet treats rather than that depressing music~"
"Exactly! Come on sis, lets go do something more fun~"
P R E S E N T
Sweet scents lofted from the small kitchen, seeping between the cracks of the swinging door that separated the two kitchens. At first it blended in with the savoury scents, but slowly, the men started to pick up on it.
"You smell that?"
"Mmm something smells so good~"
"You think it's from that cute girl's baking?"
It was only when the men all stopped cooking, a brief pause in the kitchen's commotion, that Machvise stopped to take notice. "Hey! Get back to work, don't you dare burn those vegetables, iin." But despite the tough words, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the door at the back of the kitchen, curious.
It wasn't until the kitchen had calmed down, and the closing tasks began, that the highly-watched door opened. The kitchen staff stopped their work immediately, Machvise included. [Name] stood there, her hair messily tied back, flour covering her new clothes, and an unreadable expression on her face. "Tell Doflamingo that the kitchen sucks," the air stilled, "but I made some chocolate croissants and apple turnovers, you're welcome to help yourself." Machvise, with only the faintest hint of amusement on his lips, watched as she then started to walk away. After a hesitant pause, many of the cooks immediately started forward towards the baking.
A tall, smiling man was there to greet her just outside of the doors. He towered over her, but in a different way that Doflamingo did; he was thinner, kept his distance, yet something about him made [Name's] spine straighten (which felt more Doflamingo-like). Maybe it was because of the bright coloured lips and face paint that streaked his cheeks; only a very dangerous and confident man would wear such a bold look while still remain intimidating. "You must be [Name]," each word was spoken with care, "I hope that your kitchen is satisfactory." Her lips pressed while his broadened, the smile starting to reach his eyes, an indication that he had clearly heard what she had said. He started to walk, and after a hand gesture she followed him down the hall, where it would open up into the main lobby. "Being in the guest suite, you'll have plenty of time to tell Doffy just how much you hate your new work space," he glanced back over his shoulder, amusement twinkling in his eyes, "although I have a feeling I didn't have to tell you that." She tried not to smile, taking it as a compliment. As they walked into the lobby, [Name] became aware of the eyes that fell on her. Some were curious gazes from guests, probably gawking at this man's height, but most were from the staff. Clearly, he held superiority, perhaps he's even one of the right hands? Staff noticeably perked up when he walked past, diverting their gaze, or smiling harder at guests. They walked into one of the glass elevators, and the man took out a gold key, keeping it turned as he pressed the highest floor. The master suite.
"So," she spoke after a moments pause, "which elite officer are you?" her tone only the slightest mocking, so he grinned.
"Ah, how could I forget, I'm Diamante. Which means that I am in charge of our.... Events." Again, with the 'events'. The people below grew smaller, soon disappearing as they entered a tunnel, the elevator growing dim. "I'm sure you've been informed about the event you will be catering this weekend," [Name's] [e/c] eyes met his, unwavering as his smile dropped, "it's only natural that I warn you not to mess this up, despite you disliking the kitchen."
Although his tone hadn't changed, [Name] could hear the threatening undertone beneath his words. She kept her eyes on the little light above the elevator doors, which counted up as they got higher and higher.
"Despite being here against my will," she willed her voice to sound neutral, "I have a reputation to uphold. I'm not going to sabotage my name and business to get back at your boss."
His lips curled in an unsettling way. "Good."
The elevator doors opened up, revealing the same living room [Name] had previously walked through. [Name] started to walk inside, pausing in the living room only when she realized Diamante was still standing in the elevator. She had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes, even despite the distance between them. "Don't you stay on this floor, too?"
His hand moved to the controls.
"My work is hardly done, I was just asked to bring you back here, since prisoners don't get keys." Before she could stop herself, her expression contorted into a glare, and Diamante burst out laughing. The doors shut on him, but she could still hear the laughter behind the doors, fading as he started to go back down.
And then, silence.
[Name] stood in the living room, scanning the modern-styled room. If she wanted, she could try to escape, right now. Jora never used a key to go down the elevator, so she could leave, maybe go to the next possible floor before taking the stairs. Every staircase has a fire escape.
Or..... She could risk her plan.
She looked at the stairs, which led to Doflamingo's domain. There's no way they would leave her up here by herself, knowing she could easily go back down... "He must be here." Her theory was only proved to be correct when she walked up into the hallway, hearing the distinct noise of fingers tapping against computer keys. Walking past the bedroom, towards his office. She didn't give herself time to hesitate, knocking immediately at the door. The typing paused.
"Come in."
Her hand shook slightly, causing her to scowl. Come on, [Name]! You have to do this. One deep breath in, one breath out. The door clicked as she opened it, and a pair of hidden eyes were set on her. Doflamingo smirked as she walked in, leaning back into his deep brown, leather chair as she made her way into the room. "Ah, if it isn't the little mouse~ Please, take a seat." So she did, sitting on one of the chairs in front of his large desk. "So, how was your first day?"
"I hate your kitchen," the words blurted out of her, painfully off plan from what she had scripted inside her mind. Her cheeks reddened, while his smirk faltered.
Fufufufufu~
Since the words were out, she decided to commit, her mouth moving before her mind could follow. "I don't know how you expect me to make hundreds of pastries with a single fridge, minimal counter space, and only a double stove- one of which doesn't even heat at a consistent rate." His eye brows shot up, and she suddenly felt too riled up to stop, "croissants are not a difficult pastry to make, and despite that in the left stove some of them burnt, while others were undercooked. Honestly, does the pastry kitchen just get the leftover equipment that Machvise decides to throw out?"
A smirk toyed at his lips, as he crossed his arms across his broad chest. "Well, none of the previous chefs have had any complaints."
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Well, I'm the only one who has had the courage to tell you, then."
He seemed to still, and [Name] could feel his eyes searching her, as he relaxed in his chair. "Yes, it would appear so..." They sat there in silence for a moment, and [Name] tried to calm her racing heart. "Well, did you just come in here to tell me how terrible my kitchen is? Or is there more."
She shifted in her seat, and Doflamingo cocked a grin as if to say, 'I thought so'. "I want to make a deal." His grin only broadened as he shifted up in his chair, elbows resting on the hardwood.
"Alright."
"o-oh. Right! Well, if I'm able to nail this event and make desserts that will satisfy everyone, then you will let me go back to my own café." It wasn't until they sat in a pause of silence that [Name] started to rethink her entire plan, especially because it seemed to simple and....
"Why do you want to go back to that small business of yours so badly? Is it because of the kitchen?" His expression had grown completely blank, causing her heart to beat faster.
This... was not what she expected. Confused, she leaned forward, hands pressing against the dark wooden desk. "What... do you mean? Of course I want to go back there, it's my home! It's my life!" She shook her head, brows drawn close in disbelief, panic starting to rise in her chest as she thought of the safe home she'd created all by herself. "I created that place on my own, it's my life Doflamingo. If I'm not there it's going to go under, and if that happens-"
"fine."
Her mouth gaped like a fish. "wh-wha?"
His expression stayed unreadable, as he leaned back in his chair. "If you can satisfy me, then fine. You will be allowed to work in your own kitchen, inside your small cafe."
"oh."
He suddenly turned back to his computer, lips staying in a thin line. "There's no point in discussing the matter further until after this weekend. You're dismissed."
Normally, the condescending tone would have irked her, but after what [Name] thought of as a win, she quickly stood and left. Her back pressed against the door as she shut it behind herself, heart hammering. She closed her eyes as her head tilted up, releasing a breath of relief. "Holy crap, it worked." Her legs brought her to her bedroom but her mind was swimming, feeling as if she were walking in a bubble. If someone had asked her the next day if she could recall getting back to her bedroom, she'd have to say no. Because one moment she left Doflamingo's office, the next she was crouched beside the same bed she had woken up in, breathing laboured as she fought a tightness in her chest. Her throat throbbed as he held back tears.
You'll get through this. She focused on breathing. Just go to bed, and then make a plan tomorrow. You've been through worse. You can bake so well! Teeth dug into flesh, forcing the tears away. You've been through worse, you'll be okay. But truthfully, she wasn't quite sure.
* * *
The next morning, [Name] was in the kitchen before anyone else woke up. She had passed through Doflamingo's bedroom in silence, her footsteps concealed by his snores. After brewing some coffee, which she had found tucked away in a cart within the main kitchen, she set to going through her basics. Using a waiter's forgotten notebook, she set to remembering classic recipes; which ones are always the most popular, the easiest to make (since she would be creating them all by herself), and which ones were the best for a buffet style. She listed all the possible options, then the recipes, and then the possible quantities.
She wrote until the kitchen beside hers started to wake up, hearing the muffled sounds of clinking pans and soft conversation. She stood up, arms stretching above her head as a mewl escaped her lips.
"Oh?"
A mop of messy brown hair popped in through the door, attached to a kind, smiling face and bright brown eyes. [Name] paused mid-stretch, awkwardly mimicking his grin. "I didn't see you come in here, did you stay here all night?" She smiled at the mocking tone, her body relaxing at his voice.
"Mmhmm, apparently the pastry chefs don't stay long, so I thought I'd need all the time I could get!"
The man pushed open the door, stepping into his kitchen, and she glanced over his uniform. She was mildly surprised he wasn't wearing the white jackets she'd seen all the kitchen staff wearing. Instead, he wore black pants and a white button-up shirt, a deep pink tie hanging from his neck. A waiter, maybe? He was tall, taller than her, however not Donquixote-tall.
"Well I got to try some of your turnovers yesterday, and let me be the first to tell you that I don't think you need to worry." The genuine compliment caught her off guard, causing a smile to form as her cheeks blushed pink.
"Yeah?"
"Definitely."
[Name] moved to lean against the countertop, arms crossing in front of her chest. He moved forward, his hand extended, that smile still on his lips. "My name's Milo, I'm a server here." Her hand felt small in his.
"I'm [Name], it's nice to meet you Milo!" Something clattered in the other kitchen, causing Milo to glance behind himself. He flashed a sheepish smile.
"Well, I should keep doing my tasks, but if you need anything let me know. I'm more than happy to help." Still frazzled from having a kind (and nonthreatening) encounter in this palace, the thought didn't form until Milo was nearly exiting the kitchen.
"Wait, Milo!" She ran up to him, hands brought into her chest as she grinned, "if you're a waiter then does that mean you've seen the menu for this weekend's event?"
His grin mimicked hers, because he seemed to catch on to what she was thinking. "Yeah, I think I can get my hands on one of them for you."
"Perfect!"
As he left, [Name] lingered in the same spot for a moment, smiling. Hm. Maybe she's not as alone as she thought?