VR - Virtual Reality [STRAY KIDS FF] ✔️

12. Cookies

My family said: "Get a hobby." So here I am now, a few streets away from my apartment, getting ready for my first baking class.

When my idea about learning languages failed, I resorted to my mother's plan - learning to make food. Because, according to her, a girl in her twenties who didn't know her way around the kitchen was doomed, labeled as a bad future wife. Another thing, she fumed when I didn't sign up for culinary classes (cause the closest were a town away), but eventually calmed since I was still in the kitchen and it was "better than nothing". My brain still hurts from how hard I rolled my eyes at her tantrums.

I tighten my apron and smooth it out, my nervous jitters about coming in early subsiding when people started streaming inside.

"Excuse me, that's my station..."

A deep male voice comes behind me, and I jump in place, turning to the young man, his blonde hair and big eyes looking oddly familiar.

My eyes widen more when my name slips out of my mouth, although in a whisper.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I'm new..." I nervously chuckle, gathering my belongings hastily.

"You can move right beside me," the guy says, pointing to the empty desk on the right. His smile sends a wave of warmth crashing over me.

"Ah, thanks..." I nod and move away, but just as I open my mouth to ask him, our teacher comes in and begins the class.

She notices me and assures me to ask for any help. I agree instantly, wanting for the class to begin so that all eyes move away from me... specifically, the pair of warm eyes of a certain blond boy standing at the station left of me.

I want to focus on the class, not on him, and he should do that, too.

And so, for the next 60 minutes, we were making (or in my case - trying to make) brownies.

I messed up so badly. I don't know where because I followed the recipe, but my brownies were hard as a rock when done baking.

"This is a disaster..." I whine over a charcoal-looking block, which is definitely not edible, let alone to be called a brownie.

"Hey, not bad for the first time," a chirpy voice comes on my left, and I raise my head to the blond boy, the front strands of his hair tied back in a small ponytail.

I sigh and look back down at the black block of burnt flour and cocoa mix in front of me.

"Don't try to console me... I know it's bad."

He sucks air through his teeth and leans with his hands on the desk beside me.

"Don't get discouraged. It's always rough at the start, but you'll get better over time."

I chuckle and look at him again. "Is it in your nature to be this friendly and encouraging to strangers, or are you pitying me?"

His eyes widen, and he steps back, raising his hands defensively.

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm not pitying you. I'm genuinely trying to help. Besides," his face welcomes that sweet smile again. "It hurts to hear you don't know me. We're neighbors." I tilt my head, and he laughs, his sweet laugh a contrast to his deep voice.

He offers his hand. "I'm Felix. Third floor, apartment no. 25. And, not to sound like a creep, I know your name because your mother always mistakes our floors and rings on my door instead."

A flush of embarrassment hits my face, and I cover it with both hands.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for her! She never mentioned..."