Accepted under the mentorship of your idol and the world's hottest chef Gordon Ramsay, you must prove your skill and determination through competing in Hell's Kitchen- A month long cooking contest versus fifteen other fierce contestants and difficul...
The SUV ride back to Hell's Kitchen is devoid of Gordon. I figured he'd already headed back to begin preparations for tonight's service, but knowing where he is doesn't help me miss him any less.
After coming to the realization that I'd been neglecting Gordon, I've been wrestling with how I can show him how much he means to me. For right now, spending as much time as possible around him seems to be the best way to make sure he understands what I can't say out loud.
Then, there's Abel. He's intriguing. I've never known someone as selfless as he is. Helping out a fellow competitor with their personal issues and sacrificing his chances at winning to feed the soup kitchen patrons something special... it's hard not to care for him. But I don't yet know how deep that feeling runs. Right now all I can be sure of is that I trust him.
I'd also not missed the subtle glances Gordon cast at Abel during the Red versus Blue menu service, like he's picked up on something. Unfortunately, I can't help him feel any better about that either. Not until this Sunday. This week has been more hectic and filled with tension than any other week thus far. The anniversary of my parents deaths drew me away from everyone, including Gordon.
I can't begin to imagine how Gordon must be feeling. I know that he might be upset with me for not telling him what has been going on, he's always there for me when I need him. He proved that when he wrapped me in his arms in front of the pantry camera. I don't know what I did to deserve this man, but I need to show him that I appreciate him.
It becomes apparent how starved for touch that I am. Each time we'd managed to find a way to be near each other has been torturous, considering that I can't speak to or touch him in the way we both want to– I could see my desire for him reflected back in his eyes when we spoke at the soup kitchen. It is almost like Gordon has become even more passionate about us while I've been pulling away.
I look over at Abel, who has a pensive expression as he watches the scenery roll past the window. I haven't put much thought into approaching him. He is incredibly perceptive and would likely see past any lie I tried to tell him. Should I try letting him know the truth? So far, only Taylor knows what's going on. Can I afford to let someone else in on the intimate details of my life? It was risky enough sharing with Taylor, and that decision backfired when she told Pietro a different story than I'd told him. But Abel is quiet. He's not one to gossip or sling insults. I remember him telling us to hold back from fighting so that we wouldn't hate each other during Gina's elimination.
After a moment of thought, I shake my head. It wouldn't be fair to lead him on. I have to tell him what's happening. After all that Abel has done for me, it wouldn't feel right any other way. I hope Gordon isn't angry with my plan for Abel and can understand my reasoning.
My eyes trail down the side of Abel's face to his slender neck. I remember how safe I felt when he told me he'd catch me if I fell again. I remember the relief when he held me the night that I'd relived my parent's death. My heart flutters.
Maybe girls would think he was noble for covering for me. Surely he won't have trouble finding a girlfriend after his sweet sensitive side is revealed as our season is aired.
My eyes grow wide as my breath hitches.
Maybe he does have a girlfriend.
He barely ever talks about himself, so it's quite possible. He's handsome, and it's a wonder that he'd never been flirty with me, even with all the attention he gives me versus everyone else. My cheeks flush. Oh God. What if he does and I'd made a fool of myself by planting the seed of a potential relationship for the interview crew?
I'll have to ask him this weekend when the cameras and mics are off. I make a mental note to visit him after I talk to Ramsay. I need to return his shirt, anyways, so that's a good enough excuse to get him alone for a while.
The SUV pulls up to Hell's Kitchen. We filter out of the vehicle and head in through the double doors.
"Let's hurry up and get to preppin'," Taylor calls to her team as she leads them into the red kitchen.
Gordon had already assigned us to our stations for the upcoming service– Kalyani is on meats, Dave is on fish, Abel is on appetizers, and I'm on garnish. It's been a long time since I'd been in charge of the garnish station. I'm inwardly thankful for having a more simple station on today of all days. All I have to do is keep the tickets in order and make sure my garnishes are out before the entrees.
Prep goes by slowly. I can't stop my mind from trailing back to my parents as I idly chop vegetables. The soup kitchen was a welcome distraction, but now I have nothing to occupy my mind but my own thoughts.
Flashes of the car accident careen through my brain. One second I see my mother's smile. The next second, her lifeless body. I hear my father's laughter get cut off by the shrill screech of warping metal.
My hands begin to shake. I realize I stopped chopping a while ago. Dave glances at me from his station and notices my hands trembling.
"Hey uh, (Y/N), you good?" he asks, raising one eyebrow. Abel sets down his pans and looks over at me from behind Dave's shoulder.
"Oh, um... yes. Sorry. Just distracted is all."
"If you're distracted you should focus on the aspects of your station that don't require a knife. Just to be safe," Abel suggests.
The knife glints in my hand. He's right.
Setting the knife down, I decide to instead focus on mixing sauces. Thoughts of my parents, of Gordon, and of Abel swirl about in my mind as I stir the sauce.
It's a small miracle that tonight won't be an elimination night. I have to be sure I keep a cool head and not give anyone fodder to use against me. I will make it through this service. No one– not even myself– can stop me.
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