Alyssa's POV

What's his problem?

I slammed the cabinet shut after taking out the flour, eggs, and cream. I was currently in the kitchen, baking. There were a lot of chefs in here, cooking up orders of the customers. The smell of multiple foods mixed, resulting in an appetizing air.

The cafe I worked for sold not just coffees and other drinks, but also pastries. I usually enjoy the time I spent making sweets, however, my mind was still stuck on the boy from before. I was furious by how he treated me, my reflection on the white, tiled walls could vouch for that.

I was just looking out for him - a classmate! If he didn't want the help, then just say it. No need to be rude.

"Careful, Alyssa. The cake's about to combust by the heat of your glare alone. The oven's getting jealous."

I paused on what I was doing. My eyes shifted to the person who said that. Grinning alongside me was a woman in her early thirties, yet has a mentality of a teenager. She had short brown hair and bright green eyes. I introduce to you, Jessica, a co-worker of mine. She handles food like sandwiches, spaghetti, and full-course meals. She's a talented chef in my opinion.

"It's just how I look." Mumbling, I poured the cake batter into a circular baking tray and popped it inside the oven. I dusted my hands which had particles of flour over them.

"Hey, it was a joke, no need to get all serious like that." The woman patted my back, receiving a grunt from me. "What has got you fuming anyway?"

"It is..." I checked the timer on the oven, contemplating whether to confide in her or not. "It's about this boy..."

Jessica didn't let me finish and said smugly, "Oh, I get it. Boy problems, huh?"

I raised an eyebrow at her assumption. "What?"

The chef sighed dreamily. "Ah, young love. What a beautiful thing to experience."

I regret opening my mouth.

I bowed my head, feeling another headache kicking in. It wasn't that I found interacting with Jessica to be stressful, it's just that her energy was hard to deal with sometimes.

While preparing the ingredients for another batch of cake, Jessica decided to bombard me with questions. "So, did you two have a fight? What was it about? I assure you that a lover's quarrel is normal in a relationship. Also, if he..."

As she rambled on, I put my hands on the counter, trying to ignore the things she was saying. It was ineffective, yet I still strived to block her out. There's the technique of covering my ears, but it would come across as disrespectful. I didn't appreciate it when people talk so loud and so much at the same time. It was like a Gatling gun to my ears. For a second, I wished I had the attitude of Pierre and tell straight to people what's on my mind, no time wasted. Sadly, I couldn't do it.

The next thing I knew, I saw that there was ice seeping out of my hands and embedded on the counter. I took a step back in a panic.

What...?

I forgot. My powers often respond to my emotions. I first learned that when I got mad at school. The students were baffled as to why icicles materialized and hung from the ceiling of the classroom. It was one of the mysteries of the school - well, to those who were unaware of what prowess I possess.

I would be in big trouble if someone saw me. I could still hear Jessica ranting, though I was uninterested in the topic. That's good, it means she's completely distracted. I acted quickly and snatched the blowtorch used for caramelizing sugar. I flicked it to turn on and let the fire do its job. The ice had thawed and I searched for a cloth to clean it up. I didn't have the chance to do that.

"What are you doing?"

Jessica peered over my shoulder. "There's water everywhere! And why do you have the blowtorch?"

"E-Er." I needed an excuse, quick. "I accidentally spilled some water! Yes, just an accident. As for the blowtorch... W-Well..." The oven let out a chime. The cake was done.

I never thought I could be this happy hearing that ring.

"... I was about to warm up some sugar since the cake's ready."

The woman slowly nodded her head, unsure if she, herself, believed me. "Okay, then. I have to get back to work now. Happy baking."

I set the blowtorch down and sighed in relief. 

_________________________________________

It was now eight o'clock in the evening, and my shift had just finished. I still had about an hour left before Mila and Misha gets home.

Waving goodbye to my manager who was locking the doors, I started to walk back to my house. It was a chilly night, but I was used to it. The streetlights were the only things that illuminated the caliginous streets. Although, it didn't ease the creepy atmosphere.

Putting my guard up, I started to jog so I could relax in the safety of my home. Swiveling around the corner, the alleyway was in sight. I clicked my tongue, immediately falling into a bad mood.

I slightly passed the alley until I heard a scream of a little girl. I stopped in my tracks in surprise.

Did it come from there?

I stood in front of the narrow path. All I could see was black. Listening closer, I heard groans of pain and crying. And, in pure anxiousness of what may happen to the girl, I entered further into the darkness.

I could not believe what I was seeing when I reached the end of the alley.

Pierre was defending a child. He had his fists up and was in a fighting position. I noticed a bruise forming on his cheek. He seemed to be in a lot of pain by how he gritted his teeth and the blood oozing out his forehead. The crimson liquid was soaking his beanie, matching the color of his coat.

The small girl behind him was shaking. Her eyes were wide in fear and shock, tears pooling in them. She was curled in a ball, her purple dress had mud splattered on it. She was fixated not on Pierre, but something else.

We were all staring at the same thing. My powers went erratic. It was desperate to be released and eliminate the threat ahead of us - it was a shadow entity, emitting a dangerous aura.