by Blane Thomas
It was all that Corey needed to shoot out eight long spurts of cum all over his abdomen and chest. He let out loud grunts as his entire body went into crazy, paroxysmal shudders. Opening his eyes, he noticed that the thick duvet was on the floor. His entire body was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Eight cum streaks formed a rather unique drizzle around his navel. One even stretched from his abdomen all the way to his right nipple. His now limp cock still oozed out the whitish liquid.
As Corey laid there, surveying the mess he made, his mind was suddenly racked with shame at having fantasized about a man he intensely wanted to hate.
Chapter 4
If there was ever something odd about working in a Michelin Star restaurant, it was this – the patrons did not care what was on their plates. All most care about was the fact that the intricately cut piece of truffle on their scallops had been placed there by a chef in a Michelin Star restaurant. Corey would watch patrons’ eyes and mouths widen in amazement for about two seconds. And after taking a picture to be uploaded on their social media, they’d tuck in. Other patrons would look at the plate with polite indifference before continuing their conversation with the person across them. It pained him to see Keith’s finished work be treated with such indifference.
“How can they not appreciate the artistry that is put into those plates?” Corey’s mind would scream. “Don’t they know that divinity is served right in front of them?”
It was his second month in Trainyard. In that time, he had learnt to debone a chicken, fillet a fish, fry zucchini sticks without burning the sides, and get a beautiful glaze on a crème brulee, all because of Gus and Lalitha. The two chef de partie were eager to have an apprentice, and also a helper to assist in their daily chores. Corey did not mind the extra work occasionally placed on him – any job was not too inane for him to perform.
His friendship with Gus and Lalitha revealed more things about Keith during their cigarette breaks.
“He never graduated from culinary school?” Corey exclaimed. The smoke got stuck in his lungs, causing him to cough roughly.
“Told you to be quiet, didn’t I?” Lalitha frowned at Corey.
“S… sorry!” Corey exclaimed, still coughing.
Gus gave a furtive glance towards the kitchen door. “All good. He didn’t hear us.” He smiled through his red beard. “He’s too busy to even notice us gone anyways.”
They were standing at the narrow lane behind Trainyard, having a short respite in between meal preparation. From the slightly ajar door, they could detect the faint whiff of butter being fried with vegetables. The afternoon rush hour was dawning in within an hour – and there will be no time for breaks until the last patron left their table.
“Wait, I don’t get it. How could he work here then?” Corey asked.
Inside his head, Corey knew the answer. Keith was a prodigy, extremely ahead of his time. But he was also a strict traditionalist when it came to preparing the meal. But if there was a way to describe Keith’s meals, it would be medullary – where the inner core differs in form or function from the outer presentation. Though the flesh of a typical fish would be perceived to be flaky and soft, Keith had the ability to create an atmosphere around the very simple dish, by giving it a rigid cage of the crispiest breadcrumbs. And the decoration – two fish croquette pieces surrounded by the circular ripples of a red pepper coulis, as though the croquette pieces were dancing on water. Simple, yet elegant. Such meals hypnotized Corey. And the more he saw Keith’s artistry, the more he grew to admire him from afar.
Lalitha took another drag of her cigarette. “No idea. Maybe Ryan likes him a lot.”
“No way. Ryan hates his guts!” Gus interjected, still keeping an eye on the kitchen. “Ryan thinks he’s good!”
Lalitha rolled her eyes. “Big deal. His meals are so-so. And his presentation, meh.”
Corey who had been listening in to the whole conversation suddenly felt his blood boil. A sudden urge surged through him to shake Lalitha by her shoulders. He wanted to yell at her for not being able to recognize greatness in front of her. What did she know about beauty and presentation?
“You okay, Corey?” Lalitha suddenly asked, keeping a perpetual frown on her face today. “Odd you look right now.”
Giving out another pretend cough and thumping himself on the chest, Corey nodded his head. “Just thinking about Keith not graduating culinary school, that’s all.”
Lalitha’s eyes shone again. It gave her renewed vigour to speak ill of Keith. “Yeah, and I had a friend who used to be his classmate, too. Said that Keith was an outcast. No one talked to him. Had no friends in his class, being a loner and all.”
“I heard that he got into a big fight with one of the culinary professors,” Gus said. “That true?”
She nodded her head excitedly. “That was why he was asked to leave two months before graduation. He had anger issues, man.”
“Still, he’s working here.” Corey tried his best to defend Keith without making it too obvious. “His work is pretty good, I feel. Like, the other day, the truffles on the scallop was something else!”
Lalitha’s pleasant oval face crumpled further. Corey noticed even the jovial smile on Gus’ lips evaporate, replaced with a colder, downward curl. Thinking on his feet, he realized that they were not open to affording Keith any compliments whatsoever.
“But yeah, that was the only dish that looked pretty okay,” Corey said. He gave out a fake laugh. “Keith is such an idiot though. I can’t understand why Ryan hired someone with no qualifications at all! Surely that’s an insult to us!”
Corey was relieved to see Lalitha and Gus give out satisfying nods. Lalitha even smiled a little when he made that remark against Keith. It pained him greatly to insult Keith when the chef did not deserve such onerous remarks. But Corey wanted to fit in with the other two chefs. He had a lot to learn as an assistant. Being on the two chefs’ side in their petty gossips meant that they would be willing to guide him in the kitchen.
In the two months of being in Trainyard, Keith had not spoken to Corey in full sentences. All his remarks towards Corey had been curt and cold. Corey understood that it was just Keith’s nature to be such a way – unapproachable. Even Gus, Lalitha, and Ryan were afforded the same treatment.
But there was something else about Keith that only Corey realized. Whenever Keith had finished plating another sophisticated meal, Corey would sometimes go to the pickup counter before it was been whisked away by the servers. He would stare at the plates, watching the colours and structure in each element of food dance in his eyes. His heart would often give a heart wrenching tug when hands would appear out of nowhere to grab the rim of the plates, to be delivered to the patrons. After the plates are gone, he would turn to look at Keith, who on many occasions have caught Corey staring at many of his artistic pieces.
The blonde chef would look impassively at Corey for a good five seconds. Corey had always wanted to compliment the chef on such an amazing work, but there was a barrier erected by Keith that proved impermeable. Only once did Keith let that wall down, and that was during their small, rather sexual moment in the storage unit.
He yearned for Keith’s body to press against his own. Corey craved for those intelligent eyes to pierce into his mind. He tried to repeat it by sometimes taking longer than necessary in the storage unit, hoping Keith would come in once again. But the chef never did.
And thus, Corey was forced to be on an island with Gus and Lalitha, who were never exhausted of their insults towards Keith.
Walking back into the kitchen, they saw Ryan coming out of his office, looking flustered. The perpetual smile glued on his face was gone today and a crinkle of worry lined his forehead.
“Chef, everything okay?” Gus asked, his voice booming through the sizzle and humdrum of the kitchen.
“Well, yes, no…, yes,” Ryan said, fidgeting slightly. He drummed his fingers against the metallic surface of the stove, looking at Gus, Lalitha, Keith, and then Corey. �
�I’ve gotten a call from Theo Devereux. He is bringing a reviewer to Trainyard.”
“Who is he bringing?” Lalitha asked. The timbre in her voice was replaced with a hollow gush of fear. Even her eyes widened slightly.
“Anais Heart.”
“No way!” Gus slammed the table nearest to him. A chopping board with some zucchini sticks rattled, causing its neat arrangement to fall apart. “Oh, sorry Keith!”
Keith gave Gus an immensely cold stare for making such a ruckus, but no one cared about him now. Corey too understood why the reviewer’s name caused quite a stir.
Anais Heart was a food critic for a renowned lifestyle magazine in Chicago, Verve. It was an editorial designed to appeal to the upper echelons of the city. Containing articles from books to read, plays to see, clothes to wear, technology to own, they were famously read for their critiques and reviews on the many fine restaurants that were scattered across the city. Anais Heart’s column was wildly popular. A restaurant’s artistry was based on its chef – but its popularity was painted by Anais Heart’s brushstrokes. She could make or break a restaurant’s popularity.
“Oh, my god.” Lalitha had to lean against the wall at such a proclamation. She touched her forehead with the back of her hand, feverish at the prospect of such a fine reviewer gracing Trainyard. Gus was a little less dramatic, but he too had a look of worry on his face. Only Keith, unfazed by such news, continued cooking his fish in butter.
“When is she coming?” Corey dared himself to ask. Though he was only an assistant, Ryan treated him like he was part of the team.
“Tonight,” Ryan deadpanned.
“WHAT?” Lalitha screamed. “THAT CAN’T BE POSSIBLE!”
“Lalitha, seriously. Pipe down,” Keith’s voice permeated the air. “I’m trying to work here.”
Lalitha glared at the blonde chef for a few seconds before looking back at an equally flustered Ryan. The owner bit his lip. Though he said nothing, Corey knew that the executive chef was mulling over the five-course meal to be prepared for Anais Heart’s visit tonight. It would have to consist of a soup, appetizer, salad, main course, then finished off with a dessert.
Each of the chefs knew that Ryan had no way of refusing her visitation, even if it was at such short notice. Such a gaffe would jeopardize the restaurant’s credibility. Fine dining establishments knew better than to postpone a visit from such an eminent critic.
“She said that she would be coming at half-past eight tonight,” Ryan said to no one in particular. “That would mean that we would have four hours to prep for a completely new five-course meal.”
“Can’t we just serve Anais the five-course meals we have currently?” Gus suggested
Ryan shook his head. “I want it to be different. This is a chance for us to be featured in The Verve. The Verve, guys! This is fucking important!”
Gus, Corey and Lalitha stared at each other. They were not accustomed to Ryan cursing. The pressure was insurmountably swelling. His calmness was tearing at the seams at such a huge prospect. One small mistake and there would be no recovering from the shame of a bad review.
Lunch hour was going to start in fifty minutes. Lalitha and Gus stood there silently while Corey looked at an unfazed Keith, who continued frying the main course for the day. The sweet smell of butter mixed in with sea salt calmed Corey down.
“We can start off with a creamed pea and leek soup,” Keith said over the sizzling of the fire. His irises, though glued to the frying pan, had an eerie, manic glow as it caught the sliver of flame. “We can then proceed with quail eggs, tahini yoghurt and avocado. For salads, beetroot and carrot with asparagus. The main course, I’m not too sure of what to prepare, but I think we can prepare a salted butter caramel ice-cream for dessert.”
No one said anything after Keith had done rattling off eighty percent of the five-course meal. Ryan stood there, staring hard at Keith, his eyes narrow. Lalitha was the first to recover from her silence.
“That’s too ambitious, no?” she raised her hand. “Keith wants us to work to the bone with this one! He’s setting us up for failure! And the ingredients…”
“… are available in storage. We will not need to go out to get any extra ingredients,” Keith calmly finished Lalitha’s sentence. As he did so, he elegantly scooped up the fish he had been cooking, placing it onto a porcelain white plate.
Corey was not listening to Lalitha as she rattled on the reasons why Keith’s proposed plan would not work. That was the most words he had heard Keith utter under a single breath. Each dish, though simplistic had a theme – creamed pea and leeks to represent a mossy pond, quail eggs to represent a yearning to fly; beetroot, carrots and asparagus to signify the lush earth; and a brown, salted caramel ice cream – the sand of a beach and the salt of an ocean, accompanied with sweet nostalgia. All that he was missing was the mountain.
“And what about the main course, huh?” Lalitha challenged Keith.
The blonde chef ran his long, thin fingers along his hair and leaned against the wall. He had finished prepping for his meals, and was now taking a short respite. “I don’t know yet. I need… I need…”
“A mountainous forest,” Corey blurted out as though half in hypnosis. He could not stop himself for reaching out to complete Keith’s sentence. It was an intense yearning, as though his hand was seeking to clasp Keith’s in a perfect complement.
Gus, Lalitha and Ryan stared at Corey with intense incredulity.
Keith however gazed at the young assistant with mild coldness, amusement, and delightful scrutiny. A small bond was forged between the two men.
“What are you rambling on about?” Gus gave out a laugh.
Corey was not listening. Ideas poured into his mind. He had to consider Keith’s theme, so that it would be in perfect unison with the other courses. The availability of the ingredients in the store, coupled with the time needed to prepare for it, would also need to be accounted for. His mind raced wildly, thinking of a coniferous forest. He imagined his feet, taking small, but significant steps in the wet soil of a quiet, mountainous forest, filled with conifers. What wild animals and fungi did he see?
“A venison steak and porcini ravioli,” Corey said quietly, to the amazement of the room.
Though it was his voice, it felt like an out of body experience saying such a thing. It sounded less a suggestion, and more a revelation. All while he said this, his eyes never left Keith’s. It was reciprocated by the intensity radiating from Keith’s eyes. And for the first time in that two months Corey had occupied the space that is Trainyard, he could feel something different from those piercing pupils – approval.
Ryan looked at Keith. To his immense relief, the chef nodded. The executive chef clapped his hands. “It’s settled then. All of you will stay back after work to help out…”
“No,” Keith spoke out.
“N… no?” Ryan replied. “Keith, this is not a time for you to walk out on us! I need you!”
“You misunderstand me, chef,” Keith replied, going back to his work station. “I want to prepare the five-course by myself.”
“Do you listen to him, chef?” Lalitha shouted angrily. “He thinks that just because he suggested five meals, he can take all the glory for himself!”
“Yeah, chef,” Gus added. “We want to be in on it, too. It’s unfair that he gets all the credit!”
“I don’t care if I get the credit. I just want to prepare the food the way I see fit,” he said with finality. “If you have a problem with it, Chef, then I will have no part in showcasing my artistry to Anais Heart.”
“Chef!” Lalitha wanted to speak, but Ryan put a hand out to quell her disapproval.
He sighed. Eyes closed, he rubbed his forehead. Corey could see that he was mulling over Keith’s request begrudgingly. The integrity of the restaurant was at stake. After a minute with his fingers pinched upon the bridge of his nose, the executive chef spoke.
“Okay, Keith. I will agree to it.”
“Chef!” L
alitha and Gus raised their voices to disagree. But Ryan shook his head, unwilling to hear anymore.
“I will not tolerate this, Gus, Lalitha,” he said. “Keith was the one who came up with a cohesive five-course meal within a few minutes, and a practical one at that. It is only deserving that he prepares them for Anais Heart!”
Gus and Lalitha looked murderous, further exacerbated by Keith’s nonchalance. He looked neither happy nor relieved to be granted his request. It was as though he had been told that tomorrow would be a partially cloudy day. He exhibited no emotions, not even a smugness at having Ryan side him, and not the other two chefs.
“But, you will still need an assistant, Keith,” Ryan said. “So, you will still have to choose between Gus, Lalitha, or Corey.”
Without missing a beat, his thin index finger pointed at Corey. “Him.”
That was all Keith said. And then he walked away, leaving Gus and Lalitha to fume. Corey could only stand there, confused as to what had happened.
Ryan clapped his hands again. “Okay. That’s settled then. Keith and Corey will stay back to help me with Anais Heart’s visit. Now, let’s get back to work, chefs! Lunch hour is just forty minutes away!”
“Yes, chef!” Gus and Lalitha begrudgingly said in unison. Though they wanted nothing more but to mutiny against Ryan’s decision, they had to concede defeat. Neither wanted to play second fiddle to Keith.
Lalitha vented out her anger by banging the pots louder than necessary. A few deafening clangs echoed from her workstation as she prepared the entrees for the lunch hour. Gus took the quieter approach, deciding to unleash his dissatisfaction on the carrots instead. The rhythmic thuds of his knife against the cutting board matched the din coming from Lalitha’s workstation. Neither Lalitha nor Gus called Corey over for assistance.