Beep. Beep. Beep.
Yuuri sleepily opened his eyes, reaching over to turn off the alarm on his phone. Rubbing his eyes, he reached over to his nightstand and put on his glasses. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, glancing over to see blinding whiteness outside of his window. Then he remembered, it was December 18th, the day they were calling for a record snowfall.
The days when Yuuri would jump for joy over this much snow were long gone. Now, snow was nothing but an inconvenience. Living in New York City meant that it was quicker for Yuuri to walk to places than to drive, and the restaurant he worked at was only two blocks away.
Deciding it was much too cold to be out of bed, he threw himself back underneath the covers and decided to rest for just five more minutes.
Five minutes turned into twenty, and Yuuri was late for work.
He quickly threw the covers off himself and scrambled out of bed, throwing on a jacket and snow boots before running out the door of his apartment in his pajamas, sprinting down the stairs. He could wear whatever he wanted to the restaurant because there were changing rooms available there for him to change into his chef clothes.
He kept running as he made it onto the snow-covered sidewalk, stopping to apologize to every startled person he ran into. He thankfully did not have far to run before he was out of the snowstorm, but he still slowed down to stare at the same magnificent building he's admired every time he walked to his own restaurant.
The magnificent building was actually another restaurant; the best in all of New York, in fact. According to reviews and ratings, it was technically tied with another restaurant for first place – Yuuri's restaurant. Because of this, the two restaurants were basically rivals, however, Yuuri could not view the restaurant in a negative way.
The building was tall, dark, and mysterious. The only color on the restaurant was the name Luna displayed in cursive letters over the black and polished doors. Yuuri had never set foot inside despite his curiosity at what lied behind the ominous exterior. It might seem strange how such a seemingly unapproachable building became so popular, but Yuuri knew that being different is a sure way of getting attention.
The reason Yuuri had never entered the restaurant was because he was afraid of the illusion being shattered. Because as soon as he walked into that restaurant, the mystery would be gone.
That's why when he made it to the restaurant he worked at, panting and out of breath, he frowned at how unfair it was that Daniel was so highly rated. With a plain white exterior and a minimally decorated interior, Yuuri found his restaurant incredibly boring. The food was ok, and the white tables and light floor gave it a clean and fancy look, but the only reason his restaurant got to be so highly rated is that the owner, Yakov Feltsman, was the son of a very wealthy businessman. He was born into money, and with that same money, he was able to climb up the ranks in any area he chose.
Yuuri had no idea why he chose culinary cuisine, because as far as Yuuri was able to observe, the man had no passion for cooking.
Yakov was cruel and unfair to the people who worked for him. For someone so rich, it was strange that he all he cared about was money. He was willing to sacrifice literally anything for money.
It would not be fair, however, for Yuuri to criticize him for that. Yuuri had always been told to follow where the money goes, and that just so happened to lead him there, to Daniel, unhappily working for a chronically unhappy man.
Yuuri barely stepped foot inside the restaurant when Yakov stomped out of the kitchen, wielding a spatula and pointing it at Yuuri's face, waving it around as if to scold him. "Yuuri! Do you have any idea what time it is?"
Yuuri looked down and blushed self-consciously. He always hated it when someone would yell at him, although he should have gotten used to it by now; it was not an abnormal occurrence for Yakov to yell. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll get to work right away."
Deeming this apology acceptable, Yakov lowered the spatula, and Yuuri cautiously stepped around him, heading to the changing rooms at the back of the restaurant.
He said hello to a fellow employee, Michele Crispino, who ignored his greeting and instead stared at him smugly for showing up in his pajamas.
His cheeks got even redder as he quickened his pace, almost tripping as he threw open the door to the changing room. Slumping over to his locker, he leaned against it tiredly, sighing heavily. Working there was hard for him, but he needed the money.
Adorned in his white chef outfit, Yuuri walked back out to the dining area to change the white and pristine tablecloths like he did every day. Carefully taking off the centerpiece - a single white flower in a clear glass vase - he bent down to put the vase on the floor when he heard Yakov come up behind him and yell "Yuuri!" And in his fright, he dropped the vase. It shattered into a million pieces on the hard, white floor.
He expected to be yelled at by Yakov, but the old man said nothing, just breathed heavily. Confused, Yuuri looked up at Yakov. His face was red, and a purple vein was bulging near his temple. Yuuri glanced down to his clenched fists, and although he was looking at his hands, he felt Yakov punch him in the face before he understood what happened.
His cheek stung, a red mark revealing what just happened. Yuuri was frozen in place, shocked, but he could see Michele standing behind Yakov, smirking. Yakov was extremely upset, and Yuuri was very afraid he would hit him again.
Yakov took a step towards Yuuri and Yuuri whimpered, cowering down, expecting another hit. "You…" Yakov grumbled. "You show up late, you break a vase, what are you good for?!"
Yuuri opened his mouth to apologize again, but when he looked at Michele, smirking even wider than before, he got uncharacteristically angry, and that gave him courage.
"Nothing..." Yuuri said, but despite his newfound confidence, it came out weak, quiet, and shaky.
Yakov narrowed his eyes and lowered his eyebrows. "What did you say?" The question sounded like a challenge. Like 'I dare you to say that again'.
"I said," Yuri started, taking off his apron and throwing it on the floor. "Nothing." It was Yakov's turn to be frozen in shock, and Yuri walked past him back to the changing rooms. Opening his locker and grabbing his pajamas, he walked out to find Yakov still standing there. "I quit," he said as he brushed past him.
It was only once he opened the doors that he heard Yakov shout, "Yuuri! You can't just quit! Don't you dare walk out those doors!"
Yuuri didn't hear the rest because he had indeed walked out the doors, bumping into a tall stranger in his haste, both of them falling over into the snow.
Snapping out of whatever confident aura had overtaken him, he quickly gathered up his scattered pajamas and stumbled to his feet, bowing his head, and apologizing vehemently. He noticed the tall stranger had silver-colored hair – a strange color for someone so young.
The stranger smiled warmly, standing up and brushing some snow off his expensive-looking coat. "No problem! But, is everything ok?" He asked with a concerned expression, looking Yuuri up and down.
Realizing how pathetic he must look in a chef outfit, holding pajamas, he felt himself blush for about the third time today. "Oh! Haha," he laughed nervously. "Yes, everything is fine! Thank you, um, goodbye."
Thoroughly embarrassed, he walked away quickly, having to lift his legs up high to traverse through the thick snow without falling again. "Wait!" He heard the stranger call out behind him. Yuuri hesitantly turned around.
"You dropped this," the stranger said, holding up his thick, fuzzy sock. Yuuri cringed internally. "Thank you…" he mumbled, taking the sock. The stranger smiled warmly again, and Yuuri stared for a few seconds too long before he realized how strange it must look, and he quickly walked away.
He got back to his small apartment and breathed a sigh of relief. He ate some cereal, showered, changed back into pajamas, and crawled into bed before the day's events caught up to him. Jolting up in bed, he felt a sudden panic. He had just quit his job.
Groaning in frustration, he pulled the covers over his head and slept until the next morning.
Yuuri headed out the door, double checking the address on his phone. When he awoke the next morning after sleeping for an entire day, he knew his stress would not go away unless he found another job. So, he turned on his laptop and searched for culinary jobs near him. Applying for the first one he clicked on, he had to wait a few days before he was accepted.
The new restaurant was five blocks away. Not far, but still a longer walk than before. Also, the snow had not melted yet. The new restaurant, if you could call it a restaurant, was a small, dingy thing with a neon sign that just said THAI. Actually, it read T AI since the H had burned out. The name, unoriginal as it may be, was at least accurate since they served Thai food. No one at Daniel was named Daniel.
The place wasn't very popular, but it was tucked away in an alley, so it was understandable that it didn't get very many customers. There was a total of three tables, and a door that Yuuri assumed led to the kitchen. There was only one review for it online, and according to that single review, the food was very good. Yuuri just hoped that the people there would be nicer than the ones at his old job.
"Hello!" A short, friendly looking Thai woman welcomed him. "You must be Yuuri." His name sounded strange with her Thai accent.
"Yes, that's me." Yuuri said and smiled shyly.
"My name is Malai. It is a pleasure to meet you." Yuuri returned the sentiment.
Malai placed her hand on his shoulder and led him towards the other door. "Well, follow me! I will show you around." Yuuri allowed her to guide him. He was relieved that she seemed friendly.
Walking through the door that Yuuri had correctly guessed led to the kitchen, she showed him around, telling him where everything was and letting him look at her recipe book. She told him that she runs this restaurant by herself, not out of choice, but because no one applied to work here. Not that she minded working alone, but having someone else would be a nice change. Yuuri was the second person to ever work with her, and she was absolutely delighted.
It was 3:00 and Malai told Yuuri that he could practice making some recipes, and if it was good, "he might not be fired" she said jokingly.
Yuuri chose to make pho – a classic Thai dish. Malai was rearranging some plates but stopped to look over at what Yuuri was making. "Ah, good decision, the pho is a customer favorite!" She smiled approvingly. Yuuri did his best to follow the recipe exactly, and when he was done, he poured it out into a bowl and offered Malai a spoon for her to taste it. Holding the bowl in one hand, she scooped up some noodles and gingerly tasted it. She closed her eyes and was quiet for quite some time, leaving Yuuri to do nothing but fidget nervously. When she opened her eyes, she looked up at him shocked, but Yuuri couldn't tell if it was good or bad.
"This… is amazing! Better than I have ever made!" She took another mouthful, more eagerly this time. "Mmmm… Yuuri, you're very talented!" She smiled, and Yuuri blushed at the praise.
She finished the bowl and placed it in the sink, sighing happily. Then, she glanced at her wristwatch. "One of our regulars should be here soon. He always orders the pho. I want you to make it for him."
"Are – are you sure?" Yuuri questioned.
"Absolutely! He will love it. He's a very valued customer," she said. Then she leaned in and whispered, "And he tips very well." She laughed boisterously. "So don't mess it up!"
Yuuri gulped, and then the bell rang, signaling that a new customer had entered. "I will be right back with their order." Malai said, walking out of the kitchen. Only a few seconds had passed before she returned. "I was right, it's him. Go ahead and make the pho!"
So, Yuuri made the pho exactly as he had before, trying to follow the recipe exactly. He was a bit more nervous that time around, and he hoped he didn't mess up because of it. When he was done, Malai poured it into a bowl and garnished it before carrying it out to the customer. A few minutes passed, and she hadn't come back in to yell at him, so Yuuri sighed in relief and wiped his brow, happy that his first day was going ok. However, Yuuri knew that working at Thai wouldn't be a long-term thing. The pay wasn't good enough, which was unfortunate since Malai was so nice. The atmosphere was completely different from Daniel.
Yuuri had just begun to relax when Malai came into the kitchen, smiling impishly. "He wants to talk to you." She told him, motioning for him to follow her out into the dining area. Yuuri reluctantly followed her.
He was walking with his head down, following Malai's shoes when he heard a familiar voice say, "Oh, I know you!" Yuuri's head shot up, and he recognized the tall, kind stranger with silver hair. The stranger waved and smiled that warm smile again. "I'm Victor!" Then, motioning to the empty bowl in front of him, he said, more seriously, "That pho… it was amazing. When Malai told me that she wasn't the one who made it, I was shocked! I didn't know another chef existed that was as good as Malai!" Malai slapped him on the shoulder, and they both laughed. Yuuri stood there, processing the situation.
"I've been trying to get her to come work at my restaurant for years, but she refuses to let go of Thai. It's too bad, we're short on staff currently," Victor said, and then he looked up at Yuuri analytically.
Yuuri raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you own a restaurant?"
"Yes, I do… and you should come work for me!" Malai glared at him, and he looked up at her guiltily. "But that would be rude to Malai since she just hired you," he added, pouting.
Malai sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "It would surely be a step up from this place. Yuuri, if you would rather work for him, I wouldn't mind. Working with people is nice, but I've gotten by just fine on my own for a while. In fact, I like working alone just as much." She said to reassure him.
"Well, um, what restaurant do you own?" Yuuri asked.
"Luna." Victor stated simply. "Maybe you've heard of it," he said slightly smugly.
Yuuri couldn't help but gasp at that, and Victor looking at him knowingly. Yuuri wanted to say no for the same reason that he had never eaten there: it would take away the mystery that Yuuri admired so much. But a chance to work at that restaurant was a chance Yuuri knew he couldn't pass up, and not just for the paycheck.
"I… um… ok." Yuuri mumbled.
"What?" Victor asked, raising his eyebrows and leaning in.
"Yes!" Yuuri blurted out excitedly. He was embarrassed by his enthusiasm, but he couldn't help but smile happily.
Victor returned the smile. "Great! You can start tomorrow. 11:00."
Victor placed a generous wad of cash on the table and thanked them both for the service.
Grabbing his coat and putting it on, he said goodbye to Malai. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Yuuri."
"Yes!" Yuuri said in that excited tone once again, and Victor laughed and patted him on the head. Yuuri blushed and Victor turned around, waving over his shoulder as he left the restaurant.
Yuuri turned to Malai, feeling awkward about what just happened. It was his first day and he was leaving already. She had joked about firing him, but he was actually leaving. "I'm-" Yuuri started to apologize, but Malai cut him off.
"Don't worry about it Yuuri. You're a very nice young man, and it was a pleasure to meet you. You better go and get some sleep. It sounds like you have a big day tomorrow. Oh, and you better come visit me again! There's more to this restaurant than just the pho!" She smiled, patting him on the back.
"Haha, yes, I definitely will. Thank you." Yuuri smiled back. They said their goodbyes and Yuuri walked home.
Back at his apartment, he showered and collapsed into bed. The day's events should have tired him out, but he kept tossing and turning, nervous for the day ahead.