I haven't gotten an actual chapter count yet, but I do know that it will be long-winded, probably even longer than the first story. This chapter starts off in Molly's first-person point of view, but shifts back to Calvin towards the end. I also decided to incorporate a few real-life events and part-takings to the story, which will help my characters get to know actual characters from the movie.

I woke up that same morning. The sounds of the dishes and the voices of the customers from the night before were still ringing in my ear. What was even better was that the restaurant was nominated for an award. It made me so excited. That feeling soon diminished when I looked at the alarm clock. It read 9:03.

"Oh crap!" I jumped out of bed. "I'm late for my cooking class!"

Since my life had somewhat returned to normal over the years, dad thought it was time that I enroll in a school—I chose The Alto Mare Academy of Art. I didn't actually draw since I sucked at it, but I was deeply interested in the Culinary Arts, since it ran in the family now. I quickly got prepared for the day. Having no time to eat breakfast, I scurried out the front door, and stood on the boardwalk.

"I'll never make to school in time on foot," I looked up to the roof. "Unless...Star! Hey Star!"

He heard my call, and swooped down from the roof.

"Could you give me a ride to school?" He nodded. He never liked to admit if the job was too hard. I mean over the last six years, he has gotten exceptionally older.

I climbed onto his back, and he took to the sky.

We landed in front of the school. The campus, much like the city, was separated into subdivisions. Canals cut their way through campus, so the only way to get to the other buildings was by bridge.

"Thanks Star," I rubbed his head. "See you at home."

He flapped his wings and took to the sky again. I ran across a bridge and towards the subdivision labeled "Culinary Arts", and slipped into the classroom. My cooking center had already been prepared.

'That's weird.'

"Is there a problem, Melinda?"

I spun around. "Mrs. Giordano! I—I'm sorry I'm late."

"You've never been late to my class before, Melinda," She was the only one in the school who had opted to call me by my whole first name. She said that if I wanted to be taken seriously in the culinary world, then the nicknames, or shortened names in this case, would have to be dropped for professionalism. "Why the sudden tardiness?"

"I'm sorry, I overslept," I said. "I was attending my dad's anniversary party, and it didn't end until after two in the morning."

"Well, we still have about an hour of class time," She checked her watch. "Where is that recipe you were talking about bringing in?"

"Um...it's..." I dug into my bag. It took me a while before I finally found it. "Here," I gave it to her. She looked at it for a moment, and then handed it back to me.

"This is your lucky day," She said. "Why don't you try it out for me?" My stomach started to growl exceptionally loud. My face turned red. "And...don't hesitate to taste your food when you're done."

My embarrassment turned into determination, and I quickly grabbed a spare apron and some seasonings from the shelves behind me.

Mrs. Giordano walked around the class, tasting individual students' recipes. She stood for a second, and then gave them a grade. For a woman who tasted food all day long, she had managed to stay surprisingly fit. I became nervous as she got closer.

'Don't worry Molly' I told myself. 'You did everything right, you had the right amount of seasonings, you put the stove at the right temperature...I mean it's not like you're going to get an "F".'

Mrs. Giordano finally walked over to me. She came equipped with a wooden spoon. She took a spoonful from my pot and tasted it. I crossed my fingers.

"Nice combination, I see you've stirred well," She said. "There's also a hint of...what is it..."

"P-Paprika?"

"Yes, that's it," She put down her spoon. "You've earned yourself an "A"."

Better than what I was hoping for.

The bells in a nearby tower tolled, thus ending class. I couldn't leave my food here, so I grabbed a plastic container and poured it out. "This is for dad to taste."

I picked up my bag and headed towards the door.

"Oh, Melinda. Could you stick around for a moment?"

I walked back to Mrs. Giordano's desk.

"Now I've looked over your grades, and I must say, they are quite astounding," She said. "Your father will be very pleased to hear this."

I smiled.

"However..."

That smile faded fast. "H-However?"

"You're missing a science credit, my dear," She said. "You can't graduate without one."

"Science is an art?"

"Technically speaking, yes," She went on. "You would be amazed at what you can make in science pertaining to art."

"Isn't there something I can take to make up for science?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Unfortunately, nothing else is an art. May I ask what the problem is?"

I sighed. "It's just that...I've had...some bad experiences relating to science in the past, and I hoped that I could graduate without taking it."

Luckily for me, Mrs. Giordano always showed sympathy towards her students. She started typing on her computer, and came up with something. "Okay...the least I can do is remove your requirement for science...but you still need one more credit. And it has to be an art."

"What about drawing?"

"Melinda, you told me yourself at the start of the semester," She said. "You can't draw."

"It beats taking science."

"Okay, I'll sign you up for it," She started typing. "You are to report to Mr. Mancini's class tomorrow, after your history class. May I warn you, he won't be as forgiving as I am."

"Thanks Mrs. Giordano!" I left the classroom and walked to my next class.

School ended at around 4:30 in the afternoon. My stomach started to growl again, but I wasn't planning to eat until I got to the restaurant, so that's where I headed. No longer having to worry about school, I started to think about the nomination again. It was great that after these last ten years, all the hard work that was put into the restaurant, including a very successful anniversary party, finally paid off. We were supposed to attend the ceremony at 7:30 sharp this evening, so that gave us just enough time to prepare. I arrived at the restaurant, and pushed the door open. Dani was standing behind the counter, adding up revenues for the day. She looked up.

'Oh hello Molly. How was your day?'

"Great," She said. "I got an "A" for my recipe."

'An "A"?' I put the container on the counter, and Dani read it. 'I'm sure Calvin would love to see this.'

"Where is he?"

'Upstairs, in his office.'

I walked around to the other side of the restaurant, and opened the door to a now secluded set of stairs. I climbed them and got to the second floor. Dad's office door was open. He could be seen sitting behind his desk. I knocked on the door. "Dad, I'm back from school."

"Oh good, come in," I walked up to his desk, and placed the container on it. "What's this?"

"My recipe," I said proudly. "I got an "A" for it, and I wanted you to taste it."

"Oh, sure," He pulled the lid off, and picked up a spare spoon on his desk. I'll never know why he has one of those in his office. "Molly…this is amazing!"

"Thank you," I blushed. As a father, his opinion means everything. But as a person who is already familiar with the culinary field, it felt like a job interview.

"You know Molly," He got up. "When we started this restaurant, I literally cooked all of the foods. Sometimes I still do to school the newer employees, but it just brings back so many memories with what you can do."

I smiled.

"Anyway, your teacher, Mrs. Giordano called," He continued. "She said that she's dropped your science class for...drawing? Care to explain?"

"Okay, I know I told you that I couldn't draw," I sat down in a nearby chair. "But I couldn't stomach taking science."

"Why not?"

"Dad...you know..." I ran my hand through my hair. He immediately understood.

"Oh...and taking science might bring back images of when you were..." I nodded. "I can understand," He checked his watch. "Well, it's 5 o'clock. We're leaving a bit early today, because we have to get ready to win an award tonight!"

I forgot all about science and reminded myself about the award. This was going to be a big night for all of us. The three of us cleaned up, and left the employees in charge. Dad was nervous for a while, but it was time he started trusting them with such a big task. We went back home and for the next two hours, we got prepared. Most of my clothes were composed of colors that went well with my hair, but this evening called for something different. I found a white dress and some strap-on sandals in the back of my closet. The dress was a similar version of the clothes I wore yesterday, with the exception that the top now had sleeves, and there was a small, similarly-colored jacket to go with it. I quickly got dressed. I ran a brush through my hair a few times until it was smooth again, and then, finally prepared, went to rejoin the others. It was a fifteen-minute gondola ride to the museum, and it was already 7:05. Dani was helping dad with his tie.

'There you go,' She stepped back to get a better look at him. 'You look like a true businessman.'

"Molly, you look wonderful," He said, both of them turning to me as I joined them. "Well, it's time to go."

The gondola that had been sitting outside the house all these years was finally being put to use. However for us to use it, it had to be refurbished. Moss had grown on the underside, and some of the wood was starting to rot. Now, it looked like brand new.

We got off the gondola at a boardwalk near the museum, and walked up a cobblestone path to it. People were gathering from every direction, some of them other restaurant owners, artists, and historians. We walked up to the main door. I gave a security guard the tickets.

"Name and occupation."

"Calvin Winthrop, restaurant manager," I said. The guard gave us a nod and let us through.

The museum was packed. The scene looked more like a royal ball rather than an award ceremony. Waiters were walking around with Hors d'œuvres and drinks, and music was playing loud enough to be heard over the indistinct chatter from people all around us.

"It's 7:25, so the ceremony must start soon," I said to Molly.

'We'll go find some seats,' Danielle said, and she and Molly walked off into the crowd. I picked up a glass of wine from a waiter's tray and started to sip at it.

"That's an interesting choice of hair color," A raspy voice said from behind me. "I've never seen anything like that before."

I turned around and saw a man, a bit shorter than I was. He was at least in his late sixties, wearing a velvet-colored suit and a somewhat-matching tie. There were still some black streaks in his hair, but the majority of it had turned gray, and the excess had been tied behind his head wih an elastic band.

"Yeah, it's all natural," I said to him. "It...it runs in her mother's side of the family," Wow, could I lie or what?

"Ah, I see. Does the Gardevoir belong to her?"

"Oh...no," I said. "That's Danielle. She's the Assistant Manager."

His eyes widened. "Assistant Manager? For what, might I ask?"

"My restaurant, "Il Posto Per Godere"," I continued. "She's been Assistant Manager for the last six years and we've gone the last ten with a perfect record. She uses telepathy to communicate with the other employees."

"Ah…."The Place To Enjoy"," He translated. "What an appealing name."

"Molly chose it," I said. "The girl with the blue hair."

He nodded. "We should probably exchange our names too. It's less confusing that way."

"Calvin."

"Lorenzo."

"Nice to meet you," We shook hands.

At around 8:45, the waiters disappeared, and the ceremony started off. People took their seats. Molly and Danielle were sitting in the tenth row from the front. There were thirty rows behind us, and in them, were 15 wooden chairs. I took a seat and picked up a program for the evening. The first event featured a composer and his orchestra from Kanto. They were going to play a song called "A Thirst for Nature", something that I knew would eventually drive me into a coma. Next came the opening statement from the curator. The actual awards ceremony was after that, and was the last event of the evening and the bulk of the night.

"Fancy meeting you again, Calvin," Lorenzo said, sitting next to me. That same teenage girl from the night before sat down next to him, wearing a similarly-colored dress as his suit. "This is my granddaughter, Bianca."

"I believe we've met," We shook hands. "Wait....did you say...granddaughter?"

He nodded.

"You're the city's curator?!" He nodded again. "Small world."

The over head lights dimmed, and the stage lights took over. The curtains pulled back, revealing the orchestra and the composer. Over the course of two hours, I listened to the music. At first, it started off quiet, almost as if I was sitting in the terrace back at home, then the drums came in, and soon my peaceful environment turned into a raging storm. Halfway through the third quarter of the song, it sounded sad and mournful, like someone had died. It immediately started to remind me of Emmy. After that, the song was pretty much pointless. There was a round of applause when it ended. Lorenzo got up from his seat and walked to the stage. The second event had just started.

"Good evening, everyone," He said. "First, if you would be so kind as to give another round of applause to the entertainment of the evening," The audience did as it was told. "When this city was first founded, it was nothing more than a village. The citizens were worried more about trade and survival. A term like "art" only came to mind when a bucket of vibrant oils spilled to the ground. Children ran through it, mixing colors like red and yellow to make orange, yellow and blue to make green. When the adults got a hold of this, they were absolutely fascinated by the spectacle. The filled their hands with these oils and began to draw them pieces of tarp. Eventually, so many began to do this that competition flared. That competition inspired future generations to do what these people did, and later on the term "art" branched off into smaller subsidiaries, such as science, architecture, and food. And what was a village turned into a town, and that town turned into the city that we live in today. Such an accomplishment is liable of an award, and that is why you all are here this evening. Tonight we celebrate...The Fine Arts of Alto Mare."

Applause ensued. As Lorenzo walked off stage, he was approached by another man in a black suit, but was too far away for me to see his face. A woman walked onstage and started announcing nominees.

"That was an amazing speech," I said.

"I'm glad you like it," Bianca whispered to me. "We were up all night rehearsing it."

I noticed something strangely familiar about her. I knew I had seen her face somewhere before, but I just couldn't place it. I forgot about it for the moment and returned my stare to the stage. There were a few categories for the evening, all in chronological order: Architecture, science, and I still can't believe it, 2D and/or 3D Art, in which Bianca's name was announced. It shocked me that she was an artist, and apparently a good one, because she won the award in this field. The last art to be called was Culinary.

"Under the category 'Culinary Arts', there are seven nominees," She said. "Adriana Marino "The People's Eatery", Clara Esposito "The Grand Kitchen", Calvin Winthrop, "Il Posto Per Godere—"

"Oh, god," Dad muttered. "I'm going to get slaughtered."

"Nice way to keep your hopes up, dad," I said.

'He has a point,' Danielle added. 'The restaurants they're mentioning have had outstanding records for longer time periods than us.'

"And now," The announcer continued. "The winner of the 2009 Culinary Arts award is..."

She opened the envelope.

Dad and Danielle sat on the edges of their seats.

I crossed my fingers.

I honestly can't wait to write my own chapters, because this story is only going to get better from here. I will introduce the third character as planned, but it won't be for a few chapters after this. That's when the plot of the story will take off. Keep reading!