Magnolia Chicken

2. Journey

    It had been three days since Steve had made the call and he hadn't slept since. He had been up for 72 hours straight, trying to perfect his resume. His interview was in two days and he wasn't going to fuck it up. He was determined to get this job. It was too important, not just to him, but to his mom as well. With everything she's done for him in the past, it was time to finally start repaying her.

    Several bills were scattered about Joey's desk; too many to count. Joey was very stressed over his failing business. He had already taken down the HELP WANTED ads to save what little money he had left. A third of his employees had left him since his hideous breakup and it only got worse from there. The quality of food and service rapidly decreased, along with customer appearance. Joey couldn't handle much more of this. The only thing keeping him from completely closing the restaurant down was Ivy's unbearable optimism. Something had to change, and fast if this restaurant was going to stay alive.

    Two days later, Steve was driving down the back roads to Flavor Town, just after escaping the grasp of rush hour traffic. He had been preparing for this interview for five whole days, not bothering to sleep until his mom threatened his life with a spoon for not sleeping. He loved his mom but sometimes that woman was absolutely terrifying.

    A joy filled smile filled Steve's face as he found his way into Flavortown. He let out a celebratory cheer, raising one fist in the air to showcase his achievement. A car passing by gave a confused look towards Steve and then carried on with its business.

    After 20 minutes of back road driving, Steve found himself in front of one of the many beating hearts of Flavortown. Ravioli, a critically acclaimed, award-winning restaurant with top notch reviews. Although recently it's fast paced heart beat was barely beating. Steve was there to help fix it... hopefully. Steve walked in ten minutes early, trying to look as prepared as possible.

    Realizing that he had no idea what he was doing, he slowly inched his way over to the front desk where a beautiful red head stood. She was currently arguing with a customer. He was getting very close to her now, awkwardly close. Steve cleared his throat in hopes of catching her attention. She sharply turned her head to Steve in utter annoyance.

    "What do you want?" She snapped, " I'm busy at the moment, so if you would be so kind as to wait for 5 minu-"

    "Uhh, I'm here for the interview," Steve said quietly, clearly intimidated by Ivy's attitude.

    "Wait, you're the guy who called for the job interview?! Shit I'm sorry, I thought you were just another annoying customer. But wait, why is someone as good looking as yourself looking for a job in this place?"

    Steve blushed and was taken aback by her sudden complement. "Well, I don't think that looks should really contribute to where a person works.” Steve said with a kind voice.

    "Right. Well, I don't know where you should wait. I'll just take you back to Joey's office and you can wait there. Just follow me and I'll go get Joey."

    Ivy lead Joey to the back of the restaurant to a door labeled "Chef Joey." She slowly opened the door revealing a very disoriented, messy office. It had been if someone had let a wild animal loose in there. Papers were scattered everywhere, a table was knocked over with a broken coffee mug shattered next to it, spilling its contents all over the wood floor. Ivy looked pale at the sight.

    "Uh- well just sit tight in there until I get Joey. Okay?"

    "Got it." Steve slowly stepped into the office, uncertain if he should stay or not. Steve jumped when the door slammed shut right behind him, sending a cool chill down his spine. he slowly made his way across the room, trying to not to step on anything in his path. But the state of the room was so bad, it looked like a war zone, where the lifeless bodies of office supplies cluttered the front lines. Steve felt as if he might end up as one of those corpse's if things went sour. He made his way over to a black stool and proceeded to sit on it with caution, making sure to sweep away the paper clips that cluttered the top of the chair.