My Chocomallows Cake by ARIE78 (on hold)

Chapter 1

Somewhere in his subconsciousness, he realized that his alarm was ringing. Forth gave a low growl, clutched the covers and pulled them over his head. After what seemed like an eternity and when the nuisance didn't seem to be showing any signs of stopping, he poked an arm out and groped around his bedside table blindly. The clock toppled in a dramatic arch and was swept under the bed... never to be seen again. But despite being a casualty of war, the seven o-clock alarm rung from the depths like a siren blaring in his ears and Forth nose-dived deeper into the covers with another soft groan.

Really. It was his day off. And for 25 year old Forth Jaturapom, head chef at a popular cake cafe, he never had enough of those.

He sat up, running a hand through his maze-like hair and yawned, looking around his spacious albeit empty apartment. The laundry basket was overwhelmingly spilling with clothes. And the no. of post-its stuck on his refrigerator door weren't a pretty sight either.

Would it be a sin to sleep the entire day off?

Well, that's how he spent his usual Sundays.

Brush teeth, cook breakfast, do laundry and nap the entire day.

He needed a social life, he realized grumpily.

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His eyes opened of its own accord. Biological clock trained with greater accuracy than the annoying rooster outside his room, cockadoodling at 5 am.

His morning chores were a mundane affair. He wondered dully as he brushed the sleep off his eyes and hauled out a pail whether it was normal for nineteen year old boys to milk cows at 7am.

He wasn't sure but there must have been some mentions of something called a school life in one of those books he sneaked peeks at during leisure. Surely his overtly active mind could not have come up with teachers and classes and uniforms and pranks and high school romances all by itself.

The cow moo-ed disapprovingly when Beam positioned himself to milk her, he wondered whether it was this annoying when girlfriends throw tantrums. He also wondered if classmates play better pranks than pecking holes into his sneakers. Damn roosters...chasing them and making them go 'cluck!cluck!' in frantic movements of limbs lost its appeal after the age of five.

The cows were boring and would only stare at him stupidly if he threw something at them. Picking a fight with the duckies and swans was way out of his league.

Yes Beam was a boy with raging hormones and growing limbs with an active body and mind with absolutely nothing to exert it upon, stuck on a farm because apparently the country air was good for his health. He wondered dully if his parents knew that desolation was degenerating to his sanity.

As the cow splattered him with milk with a triumphant smirk, he realized dully that he needs a social life...really badly. One that was way out of the reach of the facilities a farm and its surrounding greenery and wildlife.

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He's preparing the ingredients for the recipe that he want to cook. Dressed in an abstract t-shirt and khaki's, Forth was about to tend to the frying prawns when the phone rang.

He hesitated, hoping the caller would give up.

With a sigh, he lowered the stove's flame, picked a wash towel and crossed the length of the hall. Picking up the receiver with the clean hand, he spoke gruffly.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Forth..." the voice said.

The familiar voice over the phone alarmed him.