The sound of a bird song alarm wakes a covered figure. Fingers fumbling, the appendages finally hit the button. The lump moans and moves to reveal a severely bed-headed occupant. Shaking her head a few times she rolls out and studies her hair in the mirror. Oversized cowlicks and up-ended locks turn tame with a small spray of water, bit of styling mousse and quick hair dry. Changing out of sleepwear into pristine slacks and top, the restaurant master steps to the elevator.

She didn't mind living on the top floor since it was that way for as long as she remembers. As the car rolls past the second floor's refrigeration and freezer units, she sighs. Being the third owner of the restaurant founded by her great-grandparents, she is the only one out of her five siblings who wanted to follow her grandparents steps. The hours she spends watching her elderly relatives cook and enjoying the meals they made inspired her at a young age.

The ding of reaching the restaurant floor shakes her out of her revere. With her sleek shoes barely making a sound she is about to enter the office when a sight catches her eye. Tiptoeing, she peeks around the prep station. Sighing she wonders how this all happened. Other than the filthy sleeper on the cold tiles, the stock pot for the pizza sauce had its lid off with the ladle resting inside it all cleaned out. Oh well. Thankfully it isn't time for the day's special yet.

A/N: The characters in this story are not connected to any series. They are purely fictional. Apologies for lack of title. I will update if and when I may have an idea.