Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore.

Won't you help me cure this overload?

TW: Homophobic language used.

February 9th

Steve's boss had been the one to do the last round of interviews for the new line cook job. They were hiring two new ones actually seeing as they'd had a couple of people quit recently, moved on to better jobs or moved away, that kind of thing. So he hadn't actually met either of them before they started. The head chef was in charge of showing what they needed to know anyway. Steve, being one of the two front of house managers, was quite heavily involved with working alongside the kitchen, doing the food orders, running food when it was extra busy, making sure all of the equipment and machinery was in line with current regulations. All of that boring managerial shit.

He did get on with the kitchen staff though, they were an interesting group, especially the head chef, a mountain of a man who Steve believed was from Russia, his name was Igor. He spoke very good English but still had one of the thickest accents Steve had ever heard and was slightly on the side of batshit insane but he was probably the best cook Steve had ever met and he was constantly getting Steve to try different things when he would come in and out of the kitchen.

Then there was Robin, the sous chef, she had been Steve's best friend for years, after getting a job together working at Scoops Ahoy when he'd been fresh out of high school and they'd been joined at the hip since then. Two halves of a whole idiot, Nancy said.

Nancy was the other front of house manager, alongside Steve. She was wicked smart and only part time due to being a full time college student. So a lot of the responsibility fell on Steve's shoulders as he was the only full time FOH manager. But he didn't mind, he liked her ambition.

Dustin was a waiter and Steve's other best friend, although Dustin was a few years younger, he was also wicked smart and was also putting himself through college. There was also Max and El who were bartenders, along with Lucas who did flair. They'd all come later when the restaurant had remodelled and added a higher seating area and a big bar with a patio for summer events. There were a few other part time members of staff too, but those were the ones Steve liked most.

It was a nice little team he had, his boss Alex wasn't actually around all that much, leaving Steve to essentially run the place, but he wasn't too bothered by the extra work because Alex did pay him well. More than he probably should have been making as an FOH manager, but he wasn't going to complain.

Anyway back to the two new chefs, Steve was going to introduce himself to them once they'd gotten settled. He liked his team to know that he was around if they needed anything. Steve was well liked by his staff, which was a rarity in this area with all the other competing bars and eateries. Most managers were assholes from what he'd heard from other members of staff that had joined the team after he had been put in charge.

He'd been busy in the office for a good few hours doing orders for the bar and paperwork. He'd glanced over the resumes of the two new starters, from what he could tell their names were Eddie and Gareth. But it was getting closer to the start of dinner prep and he thought now was as good a time as any to go down, say hello, introduce himself and let them know he was around if they needed anything.

"Stiv!" Igor greeted him with a big toothy smile as he walked through the swinging kitchen door.

"Hi Igor" He smiles at the man "Heard you had a couple of new starters, just wanted to come and say hi"

"Ah, Stiv, you are good manager" He claps Steve on the shoulder "This Eddie and Garet-"

"Thought his name was Gareth?"

"In Russia he is Garet"

"Better make sure he's okay with you calling him that" Steve chuckles and his eyes wander to two guys standing on the other side of the line. The shorter has mousey fluffy hair, a red bandana tied in his hair, keeping it out of his eyes, he's wearing chef whites as per the uniform, but Steve can see some sort of band shirt poking out from underneath, he has what Steve can only describe as a baby face and he swore he couldn't be more than nineteen.