You're Umami Baby (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 3

Harry glanced at the clock in the kitchen, letting out a small sigh before he continued checking each station to make sure prep was done for dinner. He felt like he could barely focus, and with his brain a little scrambled he couldn't help but be a little more on his staff so he felt like he had the tiniest bit of control again.

"Who the hell prepped these hard boiled eggs?! I can see your goddamn fingernail indents in the fucking whites!" Harry yelled frustratedly as he slammed the full pan on the station, "someone get working on a new batch!"

"Heard chef!" one of his cooks raced to get it done.

Harry went through the next station, unable to help himself from glancing at the time again. But he caught himself, shaking his head and reminding himself he has work that needs to get done.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he groaned, pulling out a few quart containers from underneath the station and looking at them closer, "who made this jelly?!" Harry screamed as he held one of the containers up.

The kitchen was still, all of his cooks giving him blank stares.

"Well?!" Harry knew his anger was written all over his face.

"I-it uhm... It was me chef," James raised his hand nervously.

The green eyed man let out a deep breath but felt like he still couldn't calm down, "so is everyone in the habit of wasting my product now?! This is a $300 batch of jelly that didn't set, peppers wasted, vinegar wasted, gelatin wasted! Egg prices are through the roof right now! What else am I going to find that's fucked up?! This is time we can't get back! You guys wonder why I'm on your backs, and it's because you can't do what you're supposed to-"

"Chef," Liam grabbed his arm, making him stop.

Harry looked around the kitchen, his staff frozen and staring at him.

"James start a new batch of pepper jelly, have someone help to make it go faster," Liam said, giving them all a silent look to get back to work before he pulled Harry off to the side, "H what's going on? You've been on a rampage all day."

"They're fucking my recipes up," Harry gritted out annoyed, "it's my name on the food."

"Buddy breathe," Liam said softly as he squeezed his shoulder, "I get that, but there's a difference between correcting them and being hostile."

Harry ran a hand over his face, trying to relax but he hasn't been able to for days. Today it was really showing though, and he knew why. He was going to see him soon. Harry hasn't felt like this in a long time, too long, and he didn't know how to process it. Taking it out on his staff definitely wasn't the right thing to do though.

"What's really going on?" Liam asked, seeing Harry make the face that he was lost in his thoughts.

"Nothing. I'm just stressed," he shook his head.

"Yeah, but what about?" Liam raised his eyebrows at him, "is it about the restaurant?"

Harry bit his lip, unable to look his friend in the eye for a moment as it was definitely someone in the restaurant, "uhm, yeah. You know me, food critics will be coming soon, so I want it to go well," he shrugged.

"Oh c'mon man, you're 28 and on track to becoming a Michelin star chef," Liam scoffed, "and you'll get there by being a leader, not a dictator," he pointed a finger at him before heading back to work.

Harry huffed, knowing he couldn't lose his head because he was a mess of emotions. He was nervous, and he hates being nervous, not wanting anyone to see him sweat. But it felt impossible to keep himself together as his eyes wandered to the clock over and over.