Weiss Schnee walked into the Gele Gloxinia promptly at 11:00 AM. She set her knife bag on the counter, flicking on the back of house lights, illuminating five stations running the length of the line. Soup station shared a six-burner range with Saute, while Grill and Oven shared a thirty-inch flat top between them. Salad was off to the side, away from the heat, and naturally had Dessert next to it, a counter-top blast chiller between them to keep cold frozen treats and salad bowls alike.
Weiss went down the length of the stations, checking their general prep and cleanliness. She wrote on a small notepad major notes. Dusk needed to wipe down the inside of his cooler. Pine left her station almost empty, and today was her day off. Weiss snarled as she realized how much work was needed to get that station up to par. Idiots!
Then she got to Grill and Oven, two stations Neptune ran almost by himself last night, and Weiss' anger melted away. Her sous chef buttoned up his station like a choir boy on Sunday. Clean, neat, prepared. As always.
Weiss had eternal gratitude for Neptune and his presence in the kitchen. While Weiss could appraise a plate and discover mistakes made by her crew, Neptune could translate Weiss' needs into a language that the crew understood. He was the mediator. She was almost jealous of him. Neptune oozed charisma. If he wanted, he could charm an inmate out of a straight-jacket. Woo the habit off a nun. Hell, he could fuck the life back into a corpse.
But, at the end of the day, Weiss preferred to keep her distance. Even when she was an idol, she was aloof, focused on practicing and resting her voice, letting her manager and publicist field fans and foes. As a chef, she could focus on the food itself, the orders and logistics, without having to deal with people until they stepped out of line.
If she was the captain of the ship, then Neptune was the fuel that kept it going.
Weiss smiled to herself. Satisfied that she'd caught everything in the kitchen, she did a quick walk-through of the dining room.
Luckily, her front of house was well trained, and Weiss only had a few notes here or there concerning a few nicks and damage caused by unruly customers.
Weiss looked around the dining room. Unlike her menu, which she had most of the say in, the dining room was entirely designed by Father, with an excessive flair all his own.
There were gems everywhere. The hand carved wooden chairs were set with rough gemstones in the armrests. The tables were large blackwood circles with hand-cut diamonds and rubies smoothed into the surface. Even on the wall, with its massive mural of an ice white and blue gloxinia flower, was studded with sapphires, glistening like dots of dew.
To say nothing of the damn chandelier, gems spiraling out from it like the milky way, lights like stars and gems glistening. A chandelier that cost upwards of half a fucking million lien. When on, its glow was almost oppressive, like someone framed the sun on the ceiling.
She hoped it would one day fall, right when Father is giving one of his famous tours to prospective new partners, killing the lot of them. Sadly, it had yet to manifest.
Until it fell, she'd be content with fantasy.
Weiss clicked her pen, seating it in her coat pocket. She tucked her notebook into her pants, and spun on her heel, heading straight for the kitchen. Today was inventory day, and the next two days were the busiest of the week. After inventory, Neptune would be arriving to help her get a head start on prep.
Weiss rolled up her sleeves, grabbed a new clipboard, and started counting. Twenty pounds of onions, twelve boxes of salt, a cambro of carrots, two eight ounce boxes each of rosemary, basil and chives, and a precious pound of black truffle. Satisfied with the count, Weiss called her food distributor and left them a voice mail for next week's order.
Time for prep. She pulled out the forty pound hunk of beef from the walk-in, setting it in a pan next to a cutting board. She unrolled her knife bag. Her fingers danced over the sleeved blades. Eight-inch chef knife, five-inch vegetable cleaver, twelve-inch scimitar, two-inch paring, and - ah, the six-inch boning knife. She pulled it from its sleeve and checked the edge with the pad of her thumb. She could hear the burr catch the grooves of her fingerprint. Sharp. As always.
Quickly, she got to work, sliding the flexible blade through the fat cap, separating the cut of beef in two, shaving the fat until she was left with a clean hunk. She stored the fat in a six-pan to be rendered later. She rolled the hunk it onto its side, cut off the tips, and began slicing one-inch steaks. Any scraps she made were put into another six-pan, and the steaks themselves seated in a hotel-pan.
She worked with a well practiced speed, and was uncompromising in her motions. Nothing hit the floor. Nothing was wasted.
After she finished breaking down the steak, she glanced at the clock. 1:32. She'd broken down the mean in thirty-three minutes. Perfect.
Weiss moved to clean her station, but then she did a double take. 1:32. Her crew was supposed to clock in at 2:00, giving everyone a few hours to set-up and prepare for the night ahead.
Everyone except Neptune. Weiss demanded her sous come in thirty minutes early so they could form a plan of attack and be strong enough for the battle ahead.
Neptune was two minutes late. He was never two minutes late.
Weiss reached for her scroll and dialed. A few rings, then-
"Weiss?" Neptune asked blearily.
"Neptune, you're alive? Are you okay?" Weiss asked.
"Almost."
"Good." Weiss frowned. "Then why the fuck are you two minutes late?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Because if you're drunk in a ditch at 1:32 on a friday, I will reach up your ass and pull your tongue inside your body until your ribs squeeze together like an accordion."
"Well that's a vivid fucking image." Neptune grumbled. "Your dad fired me last night."
"But. . . Wait, what?" Weiss said, flabbergasted. Fired?
"Got the text just when I hit the bars." Neptune groaned.
"Did he say why?" Weiss asked.
"Who the fuck knows? Your dad's an infected dickhole." The soft click of a lighter sounded through the phone. Neptune took a deep breath, and sighed. "All I know is I'm out."
Weiss squeezed her scroll. "Why didn't you call me?"
"Already started drinking boss." Neptune clicked his tongue. "And with you getting home early, I figured I'd catch you in the morning."
"If you had texted me, I could've followed up. Protected your job! Or at the very least had warning that today would suck!"
Neptune sighed again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I wasn't trying to make things hard on you. I just. . . I'm just as surprised as you. And not a lot of places pay as well as the Gele. I'm worried about moving forward."
"Well," Weiss said, taking a deep breath. "You've got a stellar reference from me. Maybe that'll help." She sighed, shoulders sagging. She began walking to the back door.
"Thanks." Neptune said, sounding relieved. "Maybe I can try for some of those fancier places."
"Oh, gonna offer yourself to my competition?" Weiss smirked, walking outside. She leaned against the wall, sliding down to a seat, fishing a pack of cigarettes from her pocket.
"Face down, ass up, Chef." Neptune drawled.
"On a silver platter. Hmmmm." Weiss put the cigarette in her mouth. She pulled out a lighter, sparking it. No flame. "Say, Nep."
"What's up?" Neptune asked.
"Want to make that one time thing a two time thing?" Weiss asked, setting her head against the wall.
"Oh." She could hear his shoulders sagging. "Weiss, it was fun. But-"
"Forget it." Weiss said quickly. "It was a passing thought." She sparked her lighter. Shit, it was broken.
"I know me leaving sucks. And, I know you're lonely-" Neptune pressed.
"I'm not lonely!" Weiss snapped.
"Weeeeissss~"
"I'm not." Her protest fell flat.
"You are. If you weren't, I wouldn't even be an option." Neptune smiled. "Just cause I'm fired doesn't mean I won't see you."
"We don't know that." Weiss grumbled.
"Okay, fine, we don't. Totally a great reason to have sex. One condition." Neptune's voice glinted with mischief. "You have to tell Sun when he gets to work."
"Nooooooooo." Weiss whined.
"Why not?" Neptune asked, knowing exactly why not.
"Because he'll lecture me." Weiss answered.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you wanted to fuck me." He gasped. "I'm hurt. You can't declare our love to one, measly, little Sun?"
"He should've been a therapist." Weiss grumbled, staunchly ignoring what tumbled out of Neptune's mouth.
"Most cooks can't afford a therapist." Neptune hummed. "Maybe that's why he went into the kitchen. So he could be Dish Jesus." He snorted. "Dish Jeeeeee—-sus." He sang, mocking a choir.
"Ha!" Weiss let out a short bark. "Fine. I'll drop it. How about drinks tonight? On me."
"That would actually be great! I'll see if Sun can make it."
"Um. . . I still want some kind of one on one." Weiss pulled her knees to her chest. "You know, if that's fine with you." She said, her voice shrinking a little.
". . . Yeah, I hear you. Sure. We'll do drinks tonight, then we'll get the band together later." Neptune answered gently.
"Good! Good." Weiss rested her head against the wall. "I need to go. Not much time until we open."
"Yeah! I'll catch you soon." Neptune sighed. "Take care, Weiss."
"You too."
Weiss hung up. She pulled up her contacts and found Father's. She dialed. One ring. Two. Three-
"What is it Weiss?" Father snapped.
"You fired my sous chef." Weiss said, voice calm and cold.
"Oh, yes, I vaguely remember that." Father huffed.
"Why."
"I'm the owner, I can hire and fire at will." Father said.
"You're the owner. The success of this restaurant requires a sous-chef who knows what they're doing. Tonight's service will be a shit-show." Weiss bristled. "So why did you fire him!?"
"Language, Weiss." Father tutted. "As for your sous, he associates with Faunus in his spare time, and I cannot have him tracking their stink in. It wouldn't look good."
Weiss was on her feet, about to punch the wall. Her scroll shook against her ear. She couldn't formulate the words past her rage.
"Don't worry Weiss." Father said, soothing. "Your new sous should be arriving. . ." Father clicked his tongue. "Any minute now."
"My new-" Weiss took a sharp breath. "You've been planning this!"
"On the contrary, I was lucky to find someone so qualified so quickly. They just happened to apply a few days ago."
Weiss punched the wall. She bit her tongue, keeping her voice down. Breathe in. Breathe out.
"I really must be going Weiss. I'll see you soon. Make me proud." Father said sweetly.
Or else.
The scroll went quiet.
"Aaaaagh!" Weiss yelled out. She pushed her scroll into her pocket and started punching the wall in earnest. "Stupid, fucking, stupid, FUCK!" She screamed.
She pulled her cigarette from her ear and pulled her lighter from her pocket. Spark. Spark. Sparksparksparksparksparksparkspa-
TCHSSSSHHHH
Weiss whirled, cigarette held fast in her lips.
Standing before her, a woman a full foot taller than Weiss, accented head to toe with red. Her shoulder-length hair, her markers, her shoes, tweezers, thermometer, even the buttons on her jacket were red. Her face was youthful, probably not much older than Weiss, her lips drawn with a soft smile.
The woman held aloft a red lighter with a black diamond in the center. The flame danced in her silver eyes.
Weiss looked at the lighter, then the woman, then the lighter again. She leaned forward, putting the tip of her cigarette in the flame, dragging until the tobacco glowed. The rush steadied Weiss, and she let out a long, slow sigh.
The red-head put her lighter in her pocket. She adjusted the strap of her knife bag, then held out one hand.
"Hi, I'm Ruby Rose. I'm supposed to talk with Chef Schnee?" She said, a hint of nerves dancing on her tongue.
Weiss took in the stranger. This was the replacement? She looked like a child. Weiss grimaced.
"Let me guess." Weiss said nastily. "My Father hired you as the new sous chef." Weiss asked, giving Ruby another once over.
"That's right!" Ruby brought her hand to her forehead in salute. "Reporting for duty!"
Weiss ignored her, taking a long drag of her cigarette.
"I, uh, I brought my resume." Ruby said, pulling folded papers from her back pocket.
"Don't bother." Weiss said, holding her hand out. "You'll be working dish tonight."
"I am?"
"You are." Weiss took another drag. "I can only assume the owner hired you as a favor to a friend of his." She sighed, a gasp of smoke clouding her eyes. "You will train with Sun Wukong until I figure out what to do with you. He'll be here in ten."
Weiss dropped her cigarette, half done, and crushed it under her toe. She turned and went inside.
Ruby stood outside, mouth agape, resume in hand.
"Ooooookay."