A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

Third Person POV

Art tried his best to remember who this AJ person was that was calling him right now.

AJ heard the silence on the other end and realized rightly that Art did not remember who he was.

"P'Art!" AJ said, remembering a bit late that Art had corrected him about not just calling him Art but P'Art, because Art had emphasized to him the issue of their five-year age gap, "This is AJ, the manager of the Indian restaurant where you went to eat with your talent manager last Monday. We exchanged contact numbers, remember? Do you still have my card with you? You can call me anytime that you need to talk to someone. I will always be here for you. I hope that you still have my business card. Aside from the restaurant's landline, I also added my personal contact number in the card that I gave you. That card is the only one that's got my personal direct contact number. All the others don't have it......"

Art did not hear half of what AJ had been saying because he had set his phone on the kitchen counter while AJ was talking, to fetch some tissues for his nose.

".......you're the only one that has it. Hello? Hello? Hello? P'Art?"

"Yes, AJ, I remember you now," Art quickly picked up his phone once more. "How are you doing?"

"You're asking me how I'm doing when you're the one who's crying! Art! I mean, P'Art! You're something else! Aren't you gonna tell me why you were crying?"

"Oh, that.... I wasn't crying. I mean I was, but it's because I've been chopping some red onions and..."

"Holy guaca... stop chopping onions... stop cooking, period, and come over and I will serve you the best food ever! I told you before you left the restaurant that on your next visit your order would be on the house! So come over, right now!" AJ couldn't believe that Art would be doing something like cooking when he absolutely didn't have to.

"AJ," Art tried to be really patient with this excitable kid, "I can't go over to your restaurant, not right now, not ever. I mean not until the end of the year, maybe."

"Whaaat?" AJ could not believe what he was hearing. "And why is that, if it's not too much to ask?"

AJ felt his heart sinking to the deepest level of the ocean.

"I am tied up with preparations for a drama series that will be airing, hopefully before the end of the year," Art tried to explain patiently. What was he going to do with this pesky kid. He was starting to wish that he had never met him and that he hadn't given out his contact number to him.

"Well, during your breaks, maybe you could quickly stop over and have a meal in my restaurant? Don't forget it's gonna be on the house," AJ was someone who didn't know the meaning of the word 'surrender' from s to r.

"AJ," Art was shaking his head even though he knew that AJ couldn't see it, "when I said that I was tied up here, I mean I'm literally tied up, okay, no, it's not literally, it's figuratively, but still it means that I cannot leave this place, anytime at all. We are not allowed to leave this place. If we need anything, it will be brought to us, we can't go out to bring it in. I hope you understand what I'm saying."

AJ's mind was whirling faster than an Alpine blizzard in the dead of winter. He had to think of something quick.

"How do you supply yourself with food?" AJ asked.

"We cook. That's why I'm in the middle of cooking right now," Art replied.

"Who brings you the raw ingredients?" Art was not going to stop asking.

"A staff member," Art's replies were getting shorter.

"Are you allowed to have someone come in to bring you cooked food so that there's no need for you to slave away in the kitchen?" AJ's questions kept coming.

"I... I suppose so... but we would have to give fair warning to the receptionist and also to give notice to our director about any outsider coming into the building," Art's reply was calculated. He knew instantly where AJ was headed for.

"Stop your cooking. I'm on my way there right now," AJ said.

"AJ! No!" but AJ had cut the call.

The bloody kid was like a whirlwind, a tornado, an Alpine blizzard. Nothing and no one could stop him except divine intervention that didn't seem to be coming any time soon.

At that moment, Mew and Gulf, stepped into the kitchen. Mew's arm was draped across Gulf's shoulder and Gulf was smiling widely.

"Hi," Art greeted them, his eyebrows furrowed, not because Mew was intimately holding Gulf, but because Art didn't know what to do about the washed spinach leaves and the crushed cloves of garlic and the cut up red onions.

Suddenly Art had an idea.

"Hey, you guys, are you planning to cook anything right now?" Art asked, hoping that they would say yes.

"Yes," Gulf replied, "but we can return when you're finished using the kitchen."

"No, no, I'm finished with the kitchen," Art replied hastily.

Then Art noticed Gulf's raised eyebrows and Mew's eyes on the raw ingredients sitting on the counter top.

"Oh.... these... they... would you guys like to take over them?" Art asked, hoping that they would say yes because he hated having to throw them into the trash bin.

"Why are you abandoning your cooking?" Mew asked, "we can always return later."

"Some... someone is coming to bring me cooked food," Art explained.

Mew raised his eyebrows. "Is that allowed?"

"I am going to ask the director right now," Art said, already rushing out of the kitchen to look for Mr. Siripool.

Mew couldn't help wondering who Art's friend was who was taking the trouble to bring cooked food to Art.

Art found Mr. Siripool just about to walk out of the front double doors.

"Mr. Siripool!" Art called out, "is it okay for a friend of mine to bring me some cooked food?"

Mr. Siripool stopped to consider.

"Yes, but he cannot be allowed to come in here," Mr. Sirpool said firmly, "you will have to come out to the reception area to meet him."

"Yessireee!" Art exclaimed with a happy smile before realizing, oh god, it wasn't gonna be just anyone who was coming to see him. It was that pesky kid, AJ.