Here's a story dedicated to our loving Tom Hardy. Thank you if your reading this, and I hope you enjoy.
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Culinary school kicked my ass. I should've been used to being yelled at on a constant basis, due to my harsh childhood years, but it had really got to me. The weight that had lifted off of my shoulders once I graduated was incalculable. Food was my passion, and I had planned to travel abroad. Taste things I had never heard of and cook for people I have only imagined meeting.
Not this ass-hat who thinks I'm cooking a simple grilled cheese wrong. He stood, against the counter with this thick arms crossed over his broad chest. The teal colored eyes that stared back at me were stern, trying to shrink me down.
"What do you mean, I'm doing it wrong?" I ask with my eyes squinting together.
"That's just not how you do it." I wanted to pick up the pan in front of me and wipe that smirk off of his face. His condescending voice made me turn my torso back towards the oven in front of me.
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Five Months Earlier.
Sweat began to form along my hairline, and race it's way down my face. The collar of my chef coat seemed like it was starting to constrict, so I reached up and tried to pull it away from my damp neck. The steam coming from the stock pot wasn't helping, so with a quick stir I quickly replaced the top.
"Beckel! I needed that stock yesterday!" My frantic eyes shot up to where our head chef, Dylan, was standing and nodded quickly.
"Yes Chef!" Grabbing a ivory colored bowl, I snatch the ladle from its resting spot, and dipped it into the wonderful smelling stock. Dylan walked by and grabbed a spoon, tasting in and nodding in approval.
"Finally! S'good. Plate it." I quickly filled it up, and used the towel hanging from my shoulder to clean the rim. My legs carried me quickly through the kitchen and I carefully put the dish with the rest of the order. The order was picked up, and I watched it disappear behind the black double doors.
Tonight was my last night in this all too familiar kitchen. I had graduated from Culinary School a week prior, but didn't seem to have the heart to leave the kitchen yet. I like to think I love everyone here at Leiths School of Food, and seeing as I was on a full ride scholarship, I tried to enjoy my time here as much as possible.
The kitchen was soon to close down for the night, and my heart sunk at the idea. All too soon, our last order was finished and we all stood, cleaning the rest of our stations. I scrubbed my metal table of a station and waited until I saw it shine before I finally stopped.
"Ya know, we're all going to miss you here." The unusually somber voice came from behind me, so I quickly turned to see if it was who I thought. There stood Callum, his big brown eyes staring at me. I could see the bright red bandana that kept his shoulder length hair back, hiding underneath his chef hat.
"Oh no you won't! I don't plan on going back to the states anytime soon, so I'll still be in London." I nonchalantly shrugged and wiped my table one last time for good measure.
"Of course we will! Dylan most of all! You're his little pet and you know it!" His mischievous tone was back, and his big eyes glinted like a fox's.
"Ha-Ha. Very funny." Before he could respond to my comment, Dylan walked in with his usual stance. Chest poked out, arms crossed, and hazel eyes roaming the large kitchen.
"Great job tonight. I'd like to say Bon Voyage one last time to our friend Quinn." He raised a flat palm towards me and applause erupted in the kitchen. I could practically feel Cal's knowing smirk burning into the back of my head, but I shook it off with a grin.
"Thank you, I enjoyed my time here. I had a great teacher to help me through!" There were a few laughs, and Dylan just shook his head.
"Yeah, whatever! Okay everyone, you're dismissed! Go home and relax!" With that, everyone flooded out and into the back room where our things were stuffed in lockers. I emptied it a week earlier, and the only thing that remained was my overused purse.
"You better keep in touch, ya hear me?" Cal pointed a stiff finger at me as he unbuttoned his chef's coat. His hat was gone to reveal his bright red bandana.
"I will!" I grumbled and pulled my coat over my shoulders. Folding it, I stuffed it into my purse along with my hat.
With one sad last look around and final goodbyes, I quickly left. I tried to reassure myself by saying I'll visit, but I knew I probably wouldn't be back for a while.
My small car was one of many in the large parking lot, and I hurried through the crisp air to reach it. Throwing my purse in the backseat, I hurried to turn on the warm air. Course, it just blew cold air for the first few minutes and I sat there motionless, but once it started to heat up I drove off. As I passed the entrance, I saw Cal and a few other people walking out. With a wave and smile, I sped out of the parking lot and to my small flat.
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Traffic was on the light side, so I sped home. The upcoming stress of finding a job started to creep up onto me, and it caused my anxiety to climb.
My small flat was one of many, each one looking exactly the same except for color. Mine was periwinkle, which contrasted with the bright yellow Mini Cooper that sat in front of it. Parking beside it, I hop out quickly, grabbing my bag and hurrying inside.
I wasn't surprised when I found everything quiet. My roommate and best friend, Rian, had more than likely fallen asleep.
Light flooded through our small kitchen, and my feet went straight over to the coffee machine. I knew it was going to be a long night, might as well get the caffeine started early. As it brewed, I picked up the remote and turned the T.V. on. Leaving it on the channel it was on, I walk over to the shared Mac desktop.
"I can't believe it! They were my favorite power couple, and it's truly sad that they have decided to split-" The volume of the T.V. was low, but not low enough to where I couldn't hear the shrill voice.
With a roll of my eyes, I mute it, and continue into the kitchen. Fresh steam was coming through the translucent blue mug, and my stress level bumped down a few levels upon seeing it. I heard some movement upstairs and wondered if Rian was actually asleep, but then I began to feel warm air come from the vent above me. Grabbing my coffee, I ventured back to the computer, where it sat open and waiting.
My tired eyes begged me to just shut the bright computer screen down and go to bed, but my mind was reeling with the thought of not finding a job. Against my eyes wants, I logged in and began searching for a potential job.
Between each job description that I read, I would glance at the moving objects on the screen to give my eyes a break. It seemed to be some type of Celebrity news, and a picture of a guy and a woman and it was split down the middle.
My attention turned back to the list of jobs, most sounded like they weren't for me, and I wanted to scream at my bad luck. That's when I noticed the very last one underneath an advertisement. Due to it being the very last one, I figured it had to be relatively new. My hope began to rise, but I kept myself from celebrating prematurely.
I attached my resumè, and sent it to the only number given. My attention turned back to the bright T.V. where two people stood talking about unnecessary Hollywood drama. I mentally rolled my eyes, and as I tried to read their oversized lips, my eyes began to become heavy. They were like weights, screaming at me to rest. Giving in, I shut the computer down and headed to my bedroom.
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The school parking lot was starting to empty out by the time I parked. Teens still sat in front, awaiting their rides home or for buses.
I parked where most of the teacher's park, and there was one familiar Mini Cooper down on the end.
My heels clicked on the shiny marble floors as I strutted my way through the hallway. As I looked around, I noticed all of the different things hanging along the walls. It brought back memories of my grade school years, even though most of them were cringe worthy.
Maneuvering my way through the halls, I stop at one classroom and notice all of the different shapes of countries on the walls.
"Miss Shields?" I questioned sarcastically and I immediately saw a head of blonde hair turn towards me. Her brow was furrowed and she looked at me with squinted eyes. Rian was an eighth grade World History teacher. She was the youngest teacher at this school, and I felt bad for her because she always a different story about how some old man tried to flirt with her.
"Oh, bugger off." She grumbled. She snatched a sticky note from its holder and marked her place in what looked like The Hobbit.
"Well, sounds like someone had a wonderful day." I dumped the dark brown fast food bag onto her desk. She glanced at it through her glasses, and then gave me a wary look.
I normally cook everything, and rarely ever get fast food due to its lack of freshness.
"What? I had an interview today, not enough time to cook." She was already digging in by the time I finished, and she stuffed her mouth with a handful of fries. I walked over and took a seat at a small desk, and pulled out my phone.
I just came from a job interview for some rich couple needing a personal chef. The wife was bitchy, and I doubt I could work with her for very long. However, beggars can't be choosers and I really need some money, so I hope I get a call.
"So how'd it go?" Her voice was broken due to her full mouth. I shrugged while looking down at my black screen, waiting hopefully for a good call.
"Eh, okay I guess. The wife I can't handle, but the husband seemed nice. I'd be surprised if I get it." I just shook my head with small smile, and looked up at her. Her wide eyes were almost entertaining, and she swallows before talking again.
"They'd be stupid not to hire you! You know what? It's probably best if they don't, so you don't have to work with someone like her!" Her British accent was strong at she used her hands to talk, and she just put a wider grin on my face.
"Yeah, I guess. I'd just be glad to get a job." I hopelessly whispered, and she started to shake her head while getting everything together.
"C'mon, let's go get some wine and snacks and watch some movies with an attractive actor in it!" She shut down her computer and grabbed her bag and lead the way out.
We both drove home and just as promised, we both sat on the couch all curled up in multiple different blankets. Ryan Reynolds' face bounced along the T.V. along with Sandra Bullock in The Proposal.
"Betty White is the best I swear." Rian's voice broke the silence in the room, and I nodded in approval while taking another sip of my wine.
My ringtone started and my phone lit up out of the corner of my left eye. Shoving my drink into Rian's hand, I tried my best to get out of the blankets. Completely failing, I landed face first into the floor and taking Rian with me. Luckily, she kept the wine above her head and didn't spill a drop. My short arm reached for my phone and answered it quickly.
"Hello?" I tried to sound as professional as possible, hoping it would help.
"Ms.Beckel?" It was the wife's squirrelly voice and I physically deflated. This wasn't a very good sign.
Rian's form joined me by the table, and her big blue eyes were clouded with worry.
"This is she." I replied and I wanted to throw my phone right then and there.
"This is Mrs. Holloway, I'm sorry to inform you, but unfortunately we have another person in mind for the job." A part of me knew this was coming, but I still felt disappointed.
"Okay, thank you for letting me know." I angrily pulled the phone away and tapped the end button. I threw the phone down, and I turned away from the table. I could still hear her stupid shrill voice, and I wished it would stop.
"Quinn." Rian's voice quiet, and I acknowledged her with a 'hm?'.
"Quinn." I turned around quickly and gave her questioning eyes.
"What Rian?" She pointed to the phone, and chuckled.
"You didn't hang up."
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Hello! So, I've noticed that there isn't enough Tom Hardy fan fiction out there, so I've decided to help increase it! Thanks, to whoever is reading!
~ Ree