The kitchen was hot, sweaty and bustling. Chefs and waiters alike weaved between each other, dodging elbows and shoulders, trays of food and dirtied plates. The halogen light above the back pantry flickered precariously, reflecting off the steel shelves which were loaded heavily with bags of rice, flour, pulses, various fresh vegetables, jars, and bottles of oil. A large wooden crate filled to the brim with potatoes was being used to prop open a battered wooden door into the back alleyway behind the bustling restaurant kitchen. A tall, slightly thin man leaned against the wall just to the left of the door. A smouldering cigarette hung from his lips, his arm cradled the back of his head, his fingers woven through his spiked hair. The man lifted his free hand and gently took the cigarette between his index and middle fingers, inhaling deeply, before flicking the stub to the floor and crushing it under his shoe. He exhaled, the smoke curling up past his face and into the night sky, dissipating quickly. He watched it vanish.
A head poked around the door. 'Naruto! What are you doing out here! Get inside. Now.' Naruto huffed and pushed himself away from the wall, coughing deeply. 'Those things are gonna kill you,' the other waiter said. 'Come on.' He stuck his thumb over his shoulder, towards the kitchen.
'Alright, alright. I'm coming. Don't lose your balls.' Shikamaru flashed a grin at Naruto and the two sauntered back to the kitchen. Naruto poked his friend. 'You've got a stain on your sleeve.' Shikamaru looked down and cursed, pulling at the orange splat on his cuff.
'I'm gonna get murdered. Damn ratatouille!'
'I brought a spare today. Wear that.'
Shikamaru smiled gratefully at Naruto, before speeding off towards the cloakroom. Naruto, left alone in the dimly lit staff corridor, checked his watch and started at the time. Cursing, he sped off towards the kitchen, tugging at his black waistcoat and attempting to tame his unruly spiked hair. Pressing at the swinging doors, he stepped into the chaos of the working kitchen, narrowly dodging a waitress laden with dirty plates and dishes. He used his height to his advantage, peering over the heads of staff to find the head waiter, Neji. Spotting him by the order screen, he picked his way over and stood to attention. Neji frowned at him. 'You stink of smoke.' He barked. 'I have told you time and time again not to smoke in uniform and what do you do? You go and smoke in it.' Naruto looked sheepishly away from Neji's piercing gaze, suddenly finding the salad bar very interesting. 'Naruto!' he snapped his head back to the head waiter. Neji pointed to an icon on the screen. 'Go and serve table 7.' Naruto nodded, looking at the screen, before turning around and briskly walking through the ornate double doors that divided the kitchen and the decadent restaurant floor. The doors swung back a few times before settling shut and blocking out all noise and atmosphere from the chaotic kitchen, leaving comforting sounds of a classical piano, courteous talking, and dignified order. Waiters dressed in straight black tailored trousers, pressed white shirts and black waistcoats leaned around smartly dressed customers serving and removing dishes, while others took orders and guided customers to crisply dressed white tables laid with ornate silverware and crystal cut glasses. Naruto watched the now tidy Shikamaru help an elegant woman into her seat, before unfolding a linen napkin and placing it courteously on her lap. Naruto turned his attention back to table 7, whipped out his notebook and a pen from his pocket before smiling and addressing the customers seated. Finishing the order, he collected the leather bound menus, logged it into the computer, and entered the kitchen to collect the service call for another table.
Sasuke seated himself in the sleek black car waiting for him on the pavement. He re-adjusted his black bow tie and dinner jacket, pulling his cuffs down slightly so as to show the silver cufflinks he had been gifted to him by his mother on the birthday before she had died. They were all the more important to him as a result, and he wore them whenever he deemed it appropriate. This was one such occasion. Rolling his eyes at the extravagance of the leather car interior, he sat back and gazed languidly out of the tinted windows, watching the world pass blurrily. His long black lashes laced together and separated as he blinked slowly, bored. Sasuke's phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he swiped his thumb over the touch screen to read it. The message was from his brother, Itatchi. Smirking at the sarcasm laced within the text, he flipped the phone sideways and typed a reply with his thumbs.
I know. This wedding dinner thing is a waste of time. How are we related to the girl anyway?
He tapped the send button and dropped the phone on the clean leather beside him. A few minutes later, the phone buzzed again. Picking it up, he read the message.
She's our Great Aunt's daughter. Don't forget to congratulate them when you greet - I know what you are like. See you later.
Sasuke snorted at the text and tucked the phone back into his suit pocket. Leaning forward, he tapped the driver on the shoulder. 'How long until arrival?'
The driver leaned his head back a little so as to speak to Sasuke while still paying attention to the road. 'A few more minutes. We are almost at L'plier sir.'
Sasuke nodded and leaned back into the seat. He turned his head back to the window.
The inner city borough of Westminster leered over the car in which Sasuke sat. Large Georgian and Victorian buildings in carved white sandstone framed the road. The pavement was lined by trees and black streetlamps which lit up the buildings in clean white and yellow light. A red double decker bus passed the car window, empty apart from an old man wrapped in a fleece and a businesswoman talking animatedly over her phone. The car turned down onto Millbank, following the lit Thames until slowing to a stop outside a grand restaurant with a silver plaque, on which was etched L'plier. A porter wearing a tailcoat opened the door and greeted Sasuke politely. Sasuke stepped out smoothly and nodded at the porter, who swung out an arm, gesturing towards the entrance. Obliging, Sasuke waited for the porter to hurry forward and open the door to the restaurant before stepping inside, his shined black shoes sinking slightly into the dark blue and yellow ornate carpet. A waiter stood to attention, addressing Sasuke politely. He stated the surname of the wedding guests and was guided to a large circular table. The waiter pulled out a chair and Sasuke sat and let the waiter place the napkin over his lap before he tucked himself in. Smiling politely to the guests around the table, he congratulated the betrothed couple, greeted his brother sitting across from him and began the meaningless conversation that would punctuate the next two hours in the restaurant.
Naruto picked up the trays to serve the next table. Balancing them expertly up his forearms, he pushed the double doors open from the kitchen and entered the restaurant. He walked gracefully across the floor to a larger table by the window, his attention momentarily diverted by a high pitched laugh emitted from a small girl perched precariously on a chair piled with cushions. In the moment of distraction, Naruto's foot caught on a rug edge and his hand slipped; the whole restaurant fell silent. He watched the slowing of time as the plates slid off his hands and up into the air, spinning almost gracefully. The food danced in circular motions – pasta cascading over sauce, and beef sliding as if one over potatoes and gravy, the whole colourful spectacle framed by red wine and dressing. Gravity took hold of the objects, and they fell in beautiful unison, before landing all over Sasuke.
Naruto blanched, his body frozen in shock and disbelief, his hands trembling as Sasuke looked at him. His eyes were dark, mysterious, and overwhelmingly furious. Sasuke stood, pieces of potato rolling off his lap, and gravy dripping from his now limp hair. Naruto dragged his nerves together and stuttered 'I… I…'
'Well?' Sasuke growled.
'I'm so sorry!' Naruto gushed. 'I'll fully refund the meal!'
'No point. I'm not paying.' Sasuke swiped gravy and peas from his hair. He looked angrily at Naruto. 'Well are you going to get me a cloth or not!?' Naruto jumped and scurried away, visibly shaking. Sasuke waited impatiently, tapping his foot, stepping pasta into the carpet. He didn't care. He was filthy, wet, and wearing his best suit. Hearing a quiet snicker behind him he turned to find the bride, his cousin, laughing behind her hand at him; her expression quickly changed to fear as she shot her a glare of pure death. Snapping his head back, he saw the tall waiter with obscenely messy blonde hair scurrying back towards him; face pale, sleeves covered in food, clutching a towel and a damp cloth. Sasuke snatched the cloths from his hands as soon as he was within distance, then took of his dinner jacket and handed it to Naruto. He began to sponge his trousers off, and then handed the damp cloth to Naruto, who began to sponge the jacket. Scrubbing at a thick lump of sauce, he addressed Naruto. 'You will come to my address tomorrow. You will pick up my dirty clothes. You will pay for the dry-cleaning. You will hand deliver them back.' He looked sharply up at the blonde, who nodded, folding the jacket over his arm.
'I'll take this now if it pleases you then sir?' He asked nervously. Sasuke nodded and turned towards the guests at the table.
'I think I may leave early. I hope you all enjoy your evening.' Forcing out a smile, he turned on his heel and left the restaurant swiftly, leaving a stunned table and waiter, a quiet restaurant, and a smirking brother. Naruto, noticing that most of the restaurant was focussed on him felt his face and ears redden; he turned quickly, hurrying towards the kitchen, and pushed the doors open, practically running. He pressed himself against the wall next to the door, breathing hard, eyes shut. Finally calm enough to relax a little, he opened his eyes and jumped as the scowling face of Neji filled his vision. He stuttered nervously, tugging at his high collar with an index finger, then yelped as his forearm was grabbed and he was roughly pulled out of the kitchen and into the staff corridor, then dragged into the cloakroom. Neji, who had up to this point been stoically quiet, snapped.
'HOW DARE YOU LOWER THE REPUTATION OF THIS PRESTIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENT!' He shouted, a vein pulsing beside his ear. Naruto cowered at the pulsing rage the head waiter was radiating, taking a step back in fear. 'WHAT IN YOUR RIGHT MIND WERE YOU DOING TO LET YOURSELF DO SOMETHING SO STUPID!? NO ONE IN MY TEAM HAS EVER HUMILIATED ME LIKE THAT. NOBODY!' Neji was practically screaming now, his cheeks turning red from the effort. Small globules of spittle hit Naruto's face as Neji honed in on the thin man. His next words were quieter, dripping with malice. 'You are lucky I don't just drop you here and now. Imbecile.' Naruto exhaled a shuddering breath, realising he hadn't done so since he had been shoved into the cloakroom. Neji scowled. 'No pay or this shift, or the next one. I expect you to work exceptionally hard from this point onwards. You are on thin ice.' He poked Naruto hard in the chest. 'Go home. I don't want to see you.'
'Y-yes sir. Thank you sir!' Naruto stood, frozen, as Neji turned briskly and left the room. As soon as he was gone, Naruto whined and sank weakly onto a wooden bench, his head in his hands and fingers deep in his spiky hair. He heard the door open, and looked up to see Shikamaru sitting himself down next to Naruto. Shikamaru smiled at him.
'Don't worry so much about it. Neji's a bastard anyway, and you didn't get laid off.'
Naruto smiled weakly, looking down at his shaking hands. 'I need a fag,' he breathed.
Shikamaru hit him on the shoulder. 'No you don't. Go home idiot.'
Naruto got up, still clutching the soiled dinner jacket and walked over to his locker, emptying it. 'Don't forget you're wearing my shirt Shika.' Shikamaru shook his head at him and waved him away. Snorting, Naruto left the cloakroom and walked down the little corridor, reaching the staff entrance. Sliding on his coat, he stepped into the night and fished around in his pocket for his box of cigarettes and lighter, the dinner jacket slung over his arm. Lighting one, he took a deep draw and stopped under the yellow light of a street lamp to inspect the jacket more closely. Looking at the label, what he perceived at first to be an expensive designer dinner jacket, he realised was actually a simple tailored jacket from a department store. In fact, Naruto could have bought one himself. He checked the pockets to find nothing but a business card, slightly damp with soup, inscribed with simple black letters:
Uchicha Sasuke - Retail Consultant
Underneath was a phone number and the address of the office he worked at. So he's just a simple estate agent, he thought, thankful. At least I didn't piss off some super rich guy… He seemed kinda scary though. Naruto took a deep drag on the cigarette and continued home, turning down a back street to cut the corner. The smouldering fag lit his face in orange light as he inhaled on it deeply, before stubbing it out on the brick wall and flicking it into an open industrial waste bin. Reaching his home, he fished his keys from his jacket pocket and opened the door to his basement flat he rented from the old Asian couple who lived in the townhouse above. Flicking on the light, he walked over to his untidy bed and fell upon it, knocking off a game controller that had been buried between the bedclothes. Reaching over, he picked it up, flicked on the television and the games console, and lost himself in shooting computerised Nazis.
Sasuke got into the black cab he had hailed on the side of the road. He was sick of walking and cold from the lack of a jacket. He didn't care that it would cost a fortune. Directing the driver, he sat back and rested his cheek against the heel of his hand, the muscle being pushed up towards his eye. He felt his eyes droop a little and sighed. At least I didn't have to endure that bitch's talking any more... rich bastard and her rich bastard fiancée. He felt his lips curl involuntarily into a smirk at the thought of the waiter's terrified face. I hope he wasn't fired… he did save me from some boredom, he thought. The taxi pulled up outside of his house and he got out, fishing into his trouser pocket for his wallet. Finding it, he pulled out a £10 note and handed it to the taxi driver, taking the change. The cold wind chilled his wet skin as he walked up to the steps to his little two bedroom house-share and dug out his keys, pushing the correct one into the lock. He checked his letterbox; finding nothing, he climbed the stairs to the second level of the townhouse and unlocked his door. Stepping inside, he emptied his pockets into an ornate bowl on a shelf, took off his shoes, and went straight to the bathroom. Unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a pale chest, he turned on the shower and shut the bathroom door.
I decided to write another story :D
SUPER LONG CHAPTAAAR! This story will have slower updates but longer chapters if all goes to plan. :)
What do you think so far? Reviews will result in free opera…
