.⋆｡⋆🍰˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.
❛ 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. ❜
blue romero fled to la when she
was eighteen years old, with
absolutely nothing - not even
a name. all of that changes
just by walking into a bakery.
911 S1-5 BUCK...
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A flush of cold air released from the fan above the shelf, like waves crashing on a windy day. I stood beneath it, letting the fresh feeling envelope my entire face. My eyelids dropped as I savoured the cooln —
"What are you doing in here?"
I gasped and turned to face the fridge entrance.
Shit. Fiona.
"Grabbing eggs," I explained quickly, taking a carton from the shelf in front of me.
I used to think the heat in California was no match for me since I was born in the hot, dry desert. But it was as if the world could feel me bragging, and gladly proved me wrong this year — since the heatwave moving through Los Angeles was closing off what was an already sweltering summer.
Working in a bakery kitchen all day only made it worse.
It was typically warm in the back, you know, when we had all the ovens going, and were squeezing four workers in the small space. Adding a boiling change in weather was like a normal day multiplied by ten. It had gotten to the point where opening the cooler was the only thing keeping us going at work.
"I wish we had time to hang out in the fridge all day, Mariquita, but we have customers, and you have volunteer work too." She reminded me parentally.
I exited the fridge with my eggs — which I luckily did need — and sighed, "I know, I know, I'm going. It's just so nice in there."
We walked into the decoration area together, where Maggie had been whipping up some royal icing. I put down the carton on the food-dye stained table so she could get back to work. I had to leave for the station soon, so I picked up a rag and wiped up some stray confectionery sugar.
"I know some people go crazy in the heat, I just never thought it'd be you." Fiona said.
I laughed, "I'm not crazy, I'm just hot!"
"Blue we know," Maggie joked, "That's why we get the most tips when you're on cashier."
I rolled my eyes as Fiona left the decoration area with a cackle. I followed behind her, dropping the dirty cloth in the laundry bag along the way.
