~Mads's POV~
"Thanks for the save." I tell Benedict once I'm positive that we're clear of the group. He squeezes my fingers in between his and shoots me a smile, as we stroll along with the crowd towards the brightly-colored carnival rides. "We can head out. I'm sure you want to check in at the restaurant."
"Are you trying to enable me, Mads?" His thumb rubs along the palm of my hand sending shivers through me and not so subtly reminding me that we're holding hands.
I swallow hard and find my voice. "No. But I know what a big deal this was for you and if you're feeling angsty, it's best to..."
"I'm not. Feeling angsty, I mean. Now, show me what I'm missing by working all the time." He encourages.
"I wouldn't recommend spending your free time at a carnival." I quip.
"Never? Come on. Carnivals can be fun." He chides.
I look at him a little in disbelief. He's so different right now. Carefree. Playful. I shouldn't be surprised by the transformation but it's a stark contrast to his normal focused self.
"Maybe if you're ten." I poke at him.
"How about as a first date?" He lifts an eyebrow. He stops me in my tracks because I feel like we're walking an already blurred line. He nods ahead and I look towards where he gestured to find a teenage couple in front of a game booth. The guy must have won a prize but is letting the girl pick the prize. She clings to his waist as she points.
"Incredibly cliché." I remark. "But sweet too, I guess."
We walk through the rows of games and carnival food. I don't insist that Benedict release me in part because I like the feel of my hand in his. We make small talk, our conversation easy and surprisingly not about work. He tells me that Whitmer revealed I am leaving the industry. Instead of voicing his opinion on the matter, he asks what programs I'm considering and I relay my thoughts, including my insecurities.
"I think my biggest fear is choosing something that I won't succeed at." I reveal.
"It's okay to not be good at everything." He rationalizes.
"True but I'll confirm everyone's opinions. That I shouldn't have quit counseling to begin with." I admit.
"Mads, you know you're the only one you need to answer to, right? If you're happy, fuck the haters." He says crudely, but he's also right. All of a sudden he pulls me in the direction of a ticket booth.
"What are you doing?" I squeak.
"Doing something fun at the carnival. Can I get ten tickets, please?" He asks the attendant who tears him a strip and accepts his money without making eye contact.
"I...I don't actually ride the rides here. Do you know how quickly they set them up? And that they have nearly zero safety requirements?" I start to panic.
"Relax. We're going through the fun house." He informs me. I'm still hesitant because all this stuff is hokey but I remind myself that he did a tremendous thing in saving me from the awkwardness of going dancing with Garrison.
The fun house has the typical wonky mirrors that create optical illusions, balance beams, and pressure points in the floor that do different things. We're laughing like two giddy children as we travel through. The next bit is a spinning barrel that you have to walk through but parts of it spin differently so it's near impossible to get through without being tumbled.
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Yes, Chef
Romansa*** COMPLETED STORY *** Madeline (Mads) Confee is a performance counselor looking to exit her profession and find something new. When she's begged to take on one last client, she doubts she can help the moody chef, especially based on their early in...
