The Master [MxMxM+]

09

One week later...

The room was the same, and so was the table, but the men who sat around it weren't. One was missing, which further fed the curiosity of the rest, all but the one at the head, the Master.

"It's the end of the first week," he said. "And there's six of you left."

The men tensed because of the heavy meaning behind his words. He said it like anyone else could be next, and from what it looked like, no one wanted to be next.

It was Zel, the one whom had started to form a friendship with the man, who got concerned about it. It gave him the courage to ask, even if everything was screaming for him not to.

"Whe- what happened to Noah?" his curious mismatched eyes focusing on the man at the head of the table.

"He was disqualified. Don't interrupt me," came the Master's curt reply.

Zel wanted to know, he couldn't think of a reason why. It didn't make sense, if there was someone who was probably not going to make it, it would be the guy with the tattoos. He just looked way too hostile.

"I like to believe you have been comfortable so far..." Jet scoffed. "...and have no complaints about your living quarters and your stay here."

Murmurs of agreement went around the table as the Master nodded and moved on. The men looked wary, the nervousness went without saying.

"I will not tolerate any disrespect for the people who work for me, you will not boss them around or get too close. They are my business and not yours," the dangerous undertone to his voice was gone when he continued. "You are however, permitted to form friendships with them if you like."

At least two people released a breath. Leave it to the Master to build up tension to the maximum, then clear the air himself.

"Among you, only-"

"Among us?" Zel cut in. Exclaiming in question as he looked to Riley whose eyes were twinkling with mirth. A smile on his well sculpted features.

"Third strike and you're out Zel, behave yourself," the Master cleared his throat. "There are four among you who cook. Riley, Zel, Pierre and Mason."

"I-" Zel began but the warning look on the Master's face was enough to make him change his mind. He was a chatterbox and sometimes he couldn't help it. Well most times, but he still thought it was unfair of the Master.

"Linder and Jet," he said, aiming a look at the two men he'd mentioned. "You have two options..."

Linder paid his full attention to the Master while Jet tried to look nonchalant.

"Learning how to cook isn't an option so you can either ask me, or any of the other men to teach you how to cook. I'll ask you to prepare something for me from time to time and I have to taste your improvements every time you make a meal."

"Daddy?" Zel asked.

"What is it?"

"Why is this so important? Why do we have to learn how to cook? I'm including myself because all I can do is baking and desserts and stuff."