I opened my eyes and blinked slowly. As I tried to stand up, I remembered that I was not in my own home. I was at Geonsu’s. I looked around the room and found the T-Shirt I sniffed on last night on the floor, next to the gym bag. I forgot to put it back? As I looked around more, I glanced at the nightstand on the right next to me. There was a note.

Good morning,

Just a reminder that I left for work. You can stay as long as you need or want to. I came in to check on you, but you were fast asleep. I’m sorry for entering without you knowing.

I left you some food in the kitchen. If you want a warm meal, you can come over to Toscana. Give me a text. I want to know if you are okay.

xxxxxxxx

Geonsu.

His handwriting was elongated and rough. I smiled at how thoughtful he was, checking in on me and inviting me to get food. Just then, my face dropped and I glanced at the gym T-Shirt on the floor. He must have seen it walking in. I felt shame again, but what could I do now? Maybe he didn’t realize.

I stood up and went into the kitchen. It was a normal, plain kitchen. Not what I expected from a chef. The food he left for me stood on the counter. I looked around his kitchen and opened drawers and cabinets. He had very beautiful glasses, cups and plates. His silverware was also high quality, like his knives. Everything was clean and in order.

Now walking around the apartment, his home had a lot of personality, besides being very clean. He had some plants here and there. What I noticed was candles. He had candles and lamps all over the apartment. Even in the bathroom and kitchen. Standing lamps, lava lamps, small lamps, even an oil retro lamp. He must be a fan of low light. He also had a lot of carpets, throw pillows on the couch and two colorful armchairs. The wall behind the sofa was basically converted into a huge bookshelf. I knelt on the sofa, my front facing the back of the sofa and looked at the books he owned. He had a wide range, from anatomical books, to physics, to literature, Korean poems, Omega and Alpha biology, astronomy, magic, science fiction, drama… He had almost every genre. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Why did he say he could not study? He seems to be very smart, given that he read all this.

I went back inside the bedroom. I picked up my phone and called my mom first. She knew I would stay out late and figured I was with a friend. I gave her a shortened version of what happened today and she got worried, asking over and over if I was truly okay and if I wished for her to come pick me up and take me home. I told her that I was okay. She understood and we soon hung up. I picked up the note he left and typed in his phone number. Maybe I was still thinking he saw the T-shirt on the floor and felt ashamed, so instead of calling him, I texted him. I went to the bathroom, washed my face and put on the hoodie he gave me last night. With the sweatpants on, the hoodie and my boots, I looked rather sporty. I rarely dressed like this, but today I felt good wearing this. I felt comfortable and protected. He messaged me 15 minutes later, telling me he was soon off the clock and if I felt up to it, his offer to eat a warm meal at Toscana still stood. I told him I was on my way and would be there in 30 minutes.

On my way to the restaurant, I called the burlesque club. I explained to them that I am well physically and they might even get to see me later, but I requested a day off today. The manager didn’t even want to hear me ask for forgiveness over a free day. He grew louder over the phone the more he talked about how things unfolded at the bar, letting his imagination run wild, acting as if he was previewed to the situation. His imagination grew even wilder and soon he imagined me going to court and having a trial for the malicious scumbag. I laughed it off and thanked him for his understanding.

Walking through the alley, making my way over there, a group walks towards me. It looks like they left the back of our buildings. I moved to the right to not be in the way, but in response, the group slowed down and moved to the left. One guy gestured me with an open arm to go right through, and everyone sheepishly gave a “Hello!” directed at me. I nodded, smiled slightly and returned the greeting. Well, that was new.

I walked up to the kitchen door and knocked on the open door. I peeked inside and saw him take his chef jacket off. He was turned away from me. I remembered how his back looked last night while he searched for work clothes. I felt flustered and looked away, hoping he heard me knock and waiting for him to acknowledge my presence.

He turned around, walked towards me and I saw his arm reach out. I braced myself thinking he was going to hug me, for whatever reason. My body tensed and, in that moment, his left arm reached higher farther from the door, and he hung his chef jacket on the hanger. I felt so stupid.

“How are you feeling?”

Maybe it was the embarrassment from thinking he was going to initiate body contact or the fact that I felt guilty for the T-Shirt incident, but I retorted.

“I am fine. I am not a weak Omega in need of support and constant check in…” I composed myself and regretted the tone of my voice and what I said immediately. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. I understand. But this is not how I view you. I just want to know if your mind is at ease. If I were such a person, I would not have asked you to walk over here alone from my apartment.”

What was up with me? I felt bad, I was ashamed, I was on edge. He was not at fault at all, rather treated me well, and I was acting like this towards him.

“I don’t know, I think I still feel antsy. Thank you.”

As I looked at him now and then, I noticed his eye bags. It seems the couch was not comfortable at all. I felt bad for him.

“As I was walking over here there was a group of people in the alley. They greeted me even. Are those the other staff? You know them, right?”

“Yes, they are my coworkers. Some are close friends of mine. Why?”

“They greeted me, as if they knew me. That’s never happened before. That’s why I’m asking.” I smiled at him.

You would think I slapped him across the face by the way he reacted. I don’t understand why he cannot answer such a simple question. At least one coworker of his must recognize me from yesterday, as I handed him the blanket. Maybe they talked about it and mentioned me, so what?

“It… I think they noticed you work across and… I don’t know. Would you like to eat something? How was the sandwich I left for you?”

“Oh, I didn’t eat it.”

“Did you not like it?”

“Um… I forgot about it.”

I genuinely forgot about it. But standing in the kitchen now, I got a rush of hunger. I never skip meals, so this was new to me.

“I’m very hungry. Do you have something prepared?”

“I’ll make us something right now. Let’s eat together.”

He brought over a stool, which I understood was for me, so I sat down where he placed it. He closed the door I came in through and grabbed some pans and ingredients. Watching him move around so secure and in charge made me smile slightly. He was cutting and preparing everything with steady hands, but I was watching his face. In the bright white light, I could see he had a couple of grey hairs, especially on the sides. He was only 32. I remember Romina telling him he looked older. His face seemed youthful to me, but the hair and soft wrinkles… suited him.

I watched him work in silence, unable to look away from his hands. They moved with confidence and made his every move stand out. He turned the salmon in the pan with a practiced flick of the wrist, steady fingers guiding the spatula. The soft glow of the stove caught on his knuckles while he whisked the sauce, I looked again at his right-hand fingers, small cuts and hyperpigmentation, from knives and hot oil splashes. I realized he was left-handed as I watched him chop and use spatulas and spoons. The scent of butter and lemon slowly filled the room. He tasted the sauce, adjusted something I couldn't identify, then returned to stirring, his hands working almost absentmindedly as if the recipe lived somewhere in his muscles rather than in his memory. Seeing him work with such an easygoing air about him made me wonder how his passion for food started.

“How did you know you wanted to become a chef?” I asked.

“I didn’t. I got given an opportunity and took it.”

“An opportunity? Did you not want to do something else other than cook?”

I wanted to know more about him, but the conversation made me feel like I was pulling at his tongue. Did I ask something I shouldn’t have asked?

“I… I dopped out of high school for a while. You know I told you I finished school at 20? My dad couldn’t support my sister and I on his own, so I dropped out. I helped by working here, at Toscana as a dish washer boy or I would cut vegetables. They noticed I had potential when I jumped in once and helped the kitchen, so they offered me an apprenticeship if I finished high school. Then I climbed up the ranks, rather quickly, and here I am.”

“I’m sorry. Did I ask something too personal?” I was mortified. I really did pull at his tongue.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just… I love what I do. I love cooking. But I don’t know what my first choice would have been. I was not good in school, so university or higher education was always out of the question for me.”

“Nari was right.” I said, feeling regretful in his stead.

“Huh? Why?”

“You did sacrifice yourself for her sake. You could have studied were it not for financial reasons.”

“I told you” he chuckled “I’m not as academically smart as you.”

“Your bookshelves might disagree. And I disagree.”

He looked right at me, his eyes looked surprised and his hands stopped working. He laughed, or rather feigned a laugh, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Well, like I said, you are smarter, so what you say goes. Let’s eat.”

He placed the plates in front of me and left to retreat a stool for himself. I smiled seeing how much he put into the plating of the one he put directly in front of me, and then looking at his, sauce just poured directly on top from left to right, the salmon stabbed with the fork to place it on top of the vegetables. The only thing that looked identically well executed and beautifully cut were the vegetables, because he cooked them for both of us at the same time. Even now, after I said Nari was right about him, he subconsciously gave me the better plate.

He came back, sat down and started to eat as soon as I put the fork inside my mouth. He glanced at me multiple times, though I pretended I didn’t see him do it. Before I could even finish half of my plate, he leaned back away from the table. I looked in front of me and his plate was licked clean. I started laughing.

“I thought you wanted to eat together. Where are you running off to?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. When I am on break, I need to eat fast and get back to work. I don’t have more than 10 minutes to eat and chill.”

“What? So, if you work 8 hours you only take a 10-minute break?”

“Well, I don’t work 8 hours through and through. Restaurants work differently. So, I get here at 5:30 am and prep for 6:30 am. That’s breakfast, from 6:30 to 10 am. Then I prep from 2:30 pm to 5 pm for dinner service and work until 10 pm. Then we clean up, lock up and go home. And I don’t always work morning shifts.”

“But weekends are mostly when people go to restaurants. So, do you work every day dinner service?”

“Haha, no! Imagine!” he smiled so warm, the wrinkles around his mouth were so captivating. “Tuesday is my day off and Wednesday and Thursday I only do dinner.”

“I want to thank you for taking me to your place and for the meal.”

“You don’t have to…” he smiled, but I knew he would appreciate it.

I remembered how Nari described him, even if it was briefly. He is someone who gives, not takes. I wanted to give him something back. Somewhat selfish, as I chose a destination which combines the two things I love, coffee and cats, but whatever. He might enjoy it. He was cleaning up our plates when I spoke up.

“But I wanted to go to the Cat Café in China Town with you. Have you ever been there? It’s so entertaining watching them. You are not allergic, are you?”

His hands stopped, griping the plates so hard he might have shattered them if he held on to them longer. He stacked them, put them to the side and answered.

“I am not allergic. We can go.”

“Oh, are you not a cat person? Some people like dogs. Which one are you?”

“Oh, I think I am very much a cat person.” He smiled and was biting the insides of his mouth. What is this reaction?

“So, you need to do prep today for dinner, right? It’s 1:52 pm right now, I should leave soon. Should we go on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. And yes, I need to prep, my coworkers should arrive…”

At that exact moment, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number. I answered and on the other line, a police man identified himself. He told me The Fifth Precinct caught the case, and they would like me to give a statement today. I told them I am available right now, so he told me to arrive at 2:30. The conversation didn’t last long, the phone call ended and I started to feel a bit anxious. Geonsu noticed.

“I have to go. I am giving a statement regarding the incident last night and I need to be there in 30 minutes. Thank you for the meal.”

I picked up my jacket and threw it on, walking towards the door. Geonsu followed behind me and as I turned to face him, I saw him try to grab onto the arms of my jacket but retract his hand fast. He put his hands behind his back and spoke.

“Would you like to be accompanied?”

It was not the first time I had to give a statement. Maybe it was because he was there when it happened and didn’t let go of me metaphorically until now. Seeing him waiting for my response, even though his hand reaching out to grab me then retreat proved he didn’t want to let me leave.

“You need to prep for dinner right now.”

“It’s fine. This is such a non-issue. Trust me.”

“What if this takes too long? You might miss work.”

“Then I take today off. What about it?”

His eyes got slightly bigger at the idea of me reconsidering him coming along. I saw him getting antsy, so I didn’t want to torment him any longer. I decided in a split second.

“Okay. I would like to be accompanied.”