The One

Caught: Part 1

 Once inside the building, Karol asked, "Where's your room?" still supporting a wincing Sam.

"No, not my room. We're heading to the kitchen."

"Shouldn't we treat your dislocated shoulder first? It's hardly going to magically fix itself!"

"I know, but we aren't going to the main kitchen; we're off to the smaller one."

"Isn't the kitchen the busiest part, what with the party and all?" she queried, raising an eyebrow.

"There aren't many people here—it's safer," Sam replied as they meandered into the small, empty kitchen. He immediately plopped onto a chair by the window, while she lingered by the door, surveying the unusual silence.

"You're right, it's eerily quiet," she acknowledged. "That's odd, though..."

"This is a private kitchen for people like me, hence the compact space," he explained.

"Oh, that makes sense. Let me help you with that arm," she declared, moving towards him. With a deft twist, she popped his shoulder back into place, causing him to gasp.

"There! All fixed," she stated with satisfaction.

Sam stared at her, awe-struck, as if she was a divine being. "What are you?" he exclaimed, feeling like he'd just met a superhero.

Karol beamed sweetly, "Just a regular human being, like you," before turning to rummage through the fridge for something to whip up.

"But that's just... weird," Sam muttered more to himself, frowning as he watched her.

"Let's not overthink it; how about I whip you up something to eat?" she proposed, shifting the conversation away from the bizarre to the delicious.

"Why is the fridge almost empty?" she demanded, her expression teetering dangerously between fury and exasperation as she shot a glance at Sam. He shifted uncomfortably, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Because we used it for the party?"

"That's so unprofessional," she muttered, her annoyance palpable as she rummaged through the fridge, extracting eggs and ripe tomatoes. Sam, drawn by her rapid movements, edged closer to watch her deft hands slicing the tomatoes with a precision that suggested both skill and frustration.

With determination, she retrieved a small pot from the cupboard, filling it with water that glimmered in the light, before placing it over the flickering flames of the stove. She cracked the eggs in a bowl, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet kitchen, whisking them with fervour as she maintained her usual tidy composure.

As the water began to bubble furiously, she added the diced tomatoes, allowing them to mingle and boil together for a couple of minutes, their vibrant red releasing bursts of flavour into the steam. With a swift motion, she poured in the whisked eggs, stirring the concoction until it harmonised into a rich, velvety mixture.

Turning the heat low, she sprinkled in salt, letting the soup simmer, the tantalising aroma filling the air and wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Satisfied with her creation, she ladled the soup into a small bowl and turned to Sam, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"Do you have any bread, Sam?"

"It's in the cupboard next to the bowls," he said, pointing towards the overhead space, and she swiftly located it without hesitation.

In an effort to lighten the atmosphere, she teased, "Master, do you prefer your baguette with garlic or lightly toasted?" Her fake posh accent elicited a laugh from Sam, who played along.

"Lightly toasted, please!" he replied cheerfully.

"You got it!"

With a deft hand, she lightly toasted the baguette, presenting it to him while he hungrily devoured the soup, his expression transforming with delight as he savoured each spoonful.

"This is the best soup I've ever tasted," he exclaimed, his eyes wide with appreciation.

"Slow down! There's still more simmering at the stove, and I made it just for you. Make sure you finish it to the last drop," she urged playfully, her tone a mixture of feigned authority and genuine affection.

Before Sam could respond, a voice interrupted from the door. "Did I interrupt something?" It was a handsome stranger, his eyes glimmering with curiosity as he regarded both of them.

Startled, Sam jumped to his feet, his cheeks flushing crimson. "No," he stammered, unable to meet the stranger's gaze. Karol raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips, clearly amused by Sam's sudden shyness.

"I smell something delicious; that's why I stopped by," the stranger said, strolling towards them, his interest piqued by the pot still simmering on the stove.

Karol, ever the gracious host, stood and scooped some soup into another small bowl. "Sit, let me serve you some soup."

The stranger obliged, settling next to Sam like a well-trained puppy, awaiting his meal. She handed him the bowl with a bright smile. "Here you go, enjoy your meal! But I really must dash; my family would tear this place apart if I don't return soon."

As she placed the bowl before the handsome stranger, she glanced back at Sam, her expression conspiratorial. "I'll call you later, okay Sam?" With that, she walked away, a playful glimmer in her eye suggesting she knew more than she let on about Sam's sudden shift in mood.

Miraculously navigating the maze-like building, she found her way to the toilet hall. There, she spotted Christian and Blair in an intense conversation, their body language suggesting a discussion of great importance.

Without a second thought, she approached them but halted a few paces away. Her initial furrow of concern morphed into a stony blankness as she observed the scene before her; a fleeting moment of sadness washed over her before she steeled herself.

Christian nudged Blair slightly before turning to notice Karol's impassive face. "You know this isn't the right place for that," she remarked casually, her voice cool and collected. "People come and go from the loo, and you two can be seen." With a dismissive wave, she pivoted on her heel, striding away from them.

A twinge of jealousy flickered within her, but she shoved it aside, glancing back to see Christian and Blair acting as if nothing had happened. Disappointment coiled tightly within her as she moved towards the others, an impulsive decision bubbling to the surface.

Without hesitation, she seized her sister's arm, pulling her aside to confide in her. "Sissy, I'm done with this party. I'm tired and starving. If anyone asks, say I went to the loo or stepped outside for some fresh air." Her voice was heavy with defeat as she locked eyes with her sister.

"Sissy, are you okay?"

"Walk with me to the main door, and I'll tell you," she replied, turning sharply and leading her sister through the throng of partygoers with determination. Each purposeful stride brought them closer to the exit, the noise of the gathering fading behind them.

Without hesitating, she grabbed her coat and faced her sister, her tone hushed yet urgent. "I saw Christian kissing another girl in front of the toilet. I'll tell you everything later, but right now, I just need to get away from this place." With that, she turned, resolute, and made her exit from the chaotic scene that had become too much for her heart to bear.

But her action was halted as her sister grabbed onto her arms, a desperate look in her eyes. "I'll call you once I'm free, and sissy, please take care of yourself," she pleaded. Her heart twisted as she looked into Sharon's earnest gaze, nodding in understanding before they reluctantly split.