What's left of you | Minsung ✔️

10. The Happy Moments

*2187 words

10.

Chilly gusts of wind were tugging on bare arms. Gravel crunched beneath his shoes as Minho hurried along the path. The gate separating the cabins from the main area fell into the lock with a metallic clang. An early morning silence hang over the area, two blackbirds were gathering near the cars, picking the ground, cawing and flapping their wings when Minho rushed past.

The sliding door of the main building opened automatically. At this time Minho was he only one at the reception desk. He approached with a smile, which the receptionist returned once she looked up.

"Good morning," Minho greeted quietly, coming to a stop at the front desk, "I hope I didn't come at an inconvenient time."

"Not at all, is there something you need?"

Minho shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Now that he really was about to execute his plan, he felt a bit nervous. "In the red folder it says that today, Monday, is our day off. We can use the camp's premises at our own discretion." He paused to take a breath. Every time he was overly nervous, his words gained speed and he would forget to breathe. He always disliked this about himself. "I was hoping that I could use the kitchen, please."

The receptionist leaned forward, eyeing Minho over the rim of her glasses. "What do you need the kitchen for?"

"Uh, you see," - at first, he was thinking about telling some white lie, like he simply missed cooking like he did back home- because no one needed to know that he cared about Jisung. But since this simply wasn't part of his personality, he told the truth - "yesterday my cabinmate suffered a migraine attack, he had a rough night and I..." Minho trailed off, too aware of his beating heart.

"You want to cheer him up," the receptionist concluded. "Your roommate is Han Jisung, right? Poor guy, way too young for-," she coughed awkwardly, "I'll let the kitchen staff know about your plan, one moment please." The phone call was short, she relayed everything Minho had said to the person on the other end of the line. It sounded like there were no objections. "Well, they want to talk to you in person, so you better hurry and meet the chef."

"Really? That's great, thank you so much. Uh, were do I go?"

"Go outside and around the building, you'll meet him there."

Minho voiced his gratitude once more, bowed, and hopped outside. He couldn't believe how easy that was. In the back of the building, he spotted a middle-aged man in white workwear. He was leaning against a metal door, leisurely smoking a cigarette.

"Good morning," Minho greeted happily, "are you the chef?"

"I am. Let me finish my cigarette."

"Of course."

Minho stood a bit to the side, excitedly rocking on his shoe soles. When the chef was done smoking, he gestured for Minho to follow him inside. They went down a metal staircase, one level underground. A hallway led them to a garage-type door which rolled up after the chef punched a big green buzzer. It rattled open and revealed a vast industrial kitchen. Everything, except for the tiled walls, was chrome. Steam clouds billowed out of giant pots and evaporated at the ceiling. Sharp sizzling of food being sauteed. Orders were yelled over the heads of dozens of people. It was so loud and smelly. The chef took a pump of disinfectant, Minho doing the same.

"What d'you wanna cook?" the chef asked loudly over the noise.

"I was thinking of Haejangguk and Mandu."

Haejangguk is a type of soup that is eaten to cure a hangover. 

Mandu are stuffed dumplings.