"Hello, world!" I spread my arms as I walked into the university's break room. "Miss me?"

"Hanna!" A chorus of yells and cheers responded to my welcome. I laughed as my old classmates crowded around me and bombarded me with questions.

"How have you been?"

"Did you miss us?"

"What was it like to study in France? I'm so jealous!"

"Why are you still so short?"

"Who said that?" I raged. The only response I got was a wave of laughter. I felt my anger dissipate and I eventually joined in.

"Alright, alright." Rokim pushed through the crowd. He had a half-smile on his face but he was trying hard to smother it. "We're all very happy Hanna's back, but let's calm things down a bit. She's not feeling well."

I tsked at him. "For the millionth time, I'm fine. Stop worrying," I insisted. He gave me a skeptical look, but finally nodded in consent. 

"Aww, look at you guys." One of my classmates, Lisa, looked between the two of us slyly. "So cute. Has Rokim popped the question yet?"

"Shut up." Rokim scowled at her. I burst into laughter.

Lisa grinned. "Calm down! I was only kidding," she said with a wink. 

I wiped tears from the corners of my eyes. "Oh, I seriously missed you guys!" I said between laughs. 

"We missed you too, Han." Lisa smiled at me. "Let's sit down before Prof gets here."

We all took our seats at the benches, Rokim on my left and Lisa on my right. I sighed in happiness, feeling like I was finally back where I belonged. 

My eyes fondly went over the familiar surroundings. It was a really small class, tailored to just a few select students. There were a total of five of us including Prof, plus a handful of other students who helped out but were not directly involved in the program. 

After a lengthy examination period, the four of us were accepted into one of the most prestigious culinary programs in the country. We also ran a restaurant together—it was part of the curriculum—under Prof's instruction.

The room itself was huge, with large panelled windows that let sunlight stream inside. There was several kitchenettes scattered throughout the room, each personalized to its own individual chef. Mine was in the corner, still untouched after three years. I could barely contain my excitement, my hangover completely forgotten. I couldn't wait to cook at my own station again.

Just then, our professor walked in. He set his bag down at the front of the room and turned to face us. "Hanna," he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile. "Good to have you back."

"It's good to be back, Prof," I responded brightly.

"I look forward to seeing how your skills have improved after studying abroad." He redirected his attention to the rest of the class. "As you all know, we'll be starting our new course load today, but before that I have an announcement to make."

Rokim and I shared a look of curiosity. We both turned back to Prof as he continued. "Unfortunately, our Assistant Chef, Leo, was in a skiing accident and broke his leg. According to school regulations, we are required to appoint a replacement AC as soon as possible. Due to the short notice, we had to select a student from another department to fill Leo's position until his recovery."

A few groans echoed around the room. "Uh, Prof," Rokim called out. "Doesn't this other student have class?"

Prof smiled at us. "He finished all his coursework already."

A couple students gasped. "Already? There's still five months left till the next program rotation!"

Prof nodded sagely. "He's an extraordinary student. I chose him specifically, given the rigorous nature of our course."

Lisa scoffed, crossing her arms. "Extraordinary or not, what matters is whether he can cook! We can't have some archeology student bumbling around the place while we're working, can we?"

Prof raised an eyebrow. Lisa uncrossed her arms, looking sheepish. "Sorry. But I think the point still stands."

Prof nodded and smiled again. "For one thing, it's not archeology—he's a psychology major. I also heard he's a quick study, so everyone give him a chance. If it really turns out to be a problem, then I'll look for someone else. Alright?"

After a few moments, we all grudgingly echoed, "alright."

Prof headed to the classroom door. We watched as he opened it and stepped through, talking to someone in muffled tones in the hallway.

I slumped down in my seat, annoyed. What sort of cosmic joke was this? My first day back at school, and we didn't even have a proper AC. "Who even is this guy?" I murmured, staring at my hands.

Rokim leaned back and crossed his arms. "I know, right? How much of a recluse do you have to be to complete all your coursework five months early?"

Lisa mirrored Rokim's action. "And a psych student? Are you kidding? What's he gonna do, psychoanalyze the food or someth—"

Lisa abruptly cut herself off. I heard footsteps at the head of the classroom, but I didn't bother looking up. I just kept stubbornly glaring at my hands.

I guess you can call that mistake number three.

"Everyone," I heard Prof say. "I'd like to introduce you to our new AC," he said, as another pair of footsteps entered the room.

Rokim sucked in a breath. "No fucking way," he muttered.

"What?" I looked up curiously. My eyes landed on the person beside Prof, and I froze.

No. Fucking. Way.

Prof's voice continued to float over my head, but I wasn't paying attention. Until he said the name of the person next to him.

"—Rian Aronhalt. Make sure you all give him a warm welcome."

I stared at him, not really believing what I was seeing. Right in front of me, wearing a grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and fitted black denim jeans. A pillar of dark perfection.

Rian.

His eyes passed over the class, taking in all of our faces one by one. When they reached me, he paused. I held my breath, unable to focus on anything but him. One second stretched into the next, and it felt like I'd been pinned under his gaze forever.

Then the moment passed, and he looked to the next person.

I cast my eyes down to the table, all the hurt and anger of yesterday made fresh. Still not a speck of recognition. My hand subconsciously made its way to my right side.

Rokim leaned down towards me. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and opened them abruptly. "Yeah," I said determinedly. "I'm fine."

Rokim hesitated for a second longer before nodding and pulling back. I steeled myself—it was better this way. There was no reason to drive myself insane for someone who didn't even remember my name.

I looked back towards the front of the room. Even if he looked similar, I knew better now. All I had to do was avoid him for the next couple weeks or so, until Leo got better, and everything would be fine. I was more than capable of handling myself, with or without an AC.

"Ah." Prof's voice brought my attention back to him. "We actually have a student here who recently studied abroad." He turned his attention to Rian. "Since you don't have much experience cooking, why don't you work with her for the first week? She's one of our brightest students, and I'm sure you'll learn a lot from her."

My jaw dropped in horror. Rian looked to Prof. "I'd be glad to," he replied, but his voice was stilted and his posture stiff.

Prof smiled. "Great! That's her over there," he gestured to me. Rian glanced in my direction, and his mouth turned the slightest bit downward. "Hanna Jordan."

For the third time in two days, I was speechless. Prof continued, saying, "You'll be stationed in her kitchen. Hanna will go over all the basics with you. Make sure to get along, because you'll be spending a lot of time with each other from here on out. No breaks!"

I slumped back down into my seat. Rokim looked at me worriedly, but I barely noticed. 

One week. Seven days. Me and Rian, in that secluded corner kitchenette. No breaks.

Great first day back, huh?