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she stared at the mass crowd sitting on the table covered with soft coloured of champagne, glasses clinking as the guests continued to ignored the plate in front of them. this is going bad, her mind whispered to her own anxious self while the heart in its righteous place trying to reassure and kicked the anxiety away. the walkie talkie strapped to the back pocket of her skinnies hissed.
" r1, anything bad, over?"
she wiped her wet hand on her thigh and reached for the talkie, " everything is bad. screw fish, how's the scallop over,"
" plating, hold on tight, over."
she rested the long antenna against the side of her cheeks as she stared at the crowd again. how could she ever think of doing something fishy for an event like this. " thank god this is just a rehearsal. you're a chef, frey, how could you fuck up this badly?" she mumbled to herself, as she stared at the door separating the kitchen and the house garden where the dining takes place.
she pulled a small notebook from her back, crossing the fish main course of it's list. pack your shits, fish. you're going home.
mama would've beaten her raw ass down.
mama has been teaching her how to cook since she was 6 years old. she might be struggling with her numbers but she could recall her baba's recipe of his famous moist chocolate cake. baba mastered the desserts while mama handled the rest. she glanced at the watch on her left wrist and sighed. she pocketed her book. 3 minutes, you promised me just a couple of secs, adrian.
" freya!"
a female voice followed up by a couple other voice, calling for the girl named freya startled her from her anxiety. she turned around to find the couple who hired her, calling for her. following the fingertips of the brunette calling for her to come over, her worn out heels clanked against the wood floor. " this is my bestfriend, freya. she's catering the baby shower." althaea proudly introduced her to the small group of friends while her other fingers laced around the neck of the champagne glass.
" please tell me that's not the champagne," the glass exchanged hand, the südschleswig born sniffed the glass and sighed at the citrus smell of her pink lemonade. then, she drunk the whole glass cleaned.
" i had to say the fish wasn't exactly a satisfying worth plater," the girl with the clear sign that this is nose job nose spoken. she was sitting next to freya's lowkey crush with arm that could knock her down which she ogled every time its germany vs poland match, kyrchawiak and thought; has french girl always been this loud opinionated bitch?
maybe its the anxiety speaking and the shitty stepsister, stress whispering the echoes of anxious; or maybe freya was indeed an asshole.
being the polite danish bitch she is (and hundreds of rerun and the idea of molding her sarcasm around mads playing lecter) she smiled. she smiled red.
