by Blane Thomas
“I’ve got to agree. Next to all the restaurants I’ve graced, this one is a squalor! Couldn’t they have afforded better decorations? God, this place is just begging to be ripped apart in the reviews!”
Theo swallowed. Anais was objectively right about the tables, and the low ceiling, and the threadbare walls. She was even right about the lack of music. But she failed to notice the most important element. It was the lack of acknowledgment, that casual indifference of the patrons towards them. None of them seemed to know or care about their presence. Anais and Kimpton had their heads stuck far up their asses for so long, they failed to understand the reality of the situation. This restaurant was not meant to worship the ground they walked on.
Here was the true Bastion. It was a force, an entity that nullified all the powers the trio held. The fame and identity he had built by coercion, backstabbing, threatening, and even whoring himself out to the others, it all did not matter here. It was as if the entire gravity of the place pressed him down, making it difficult for Theo Devereux to walk. Still, he forced himself across the dining room floor towards the kitchen.
His hands trembled, pushing the kitchen door open. He was greeted by the sight of the two familiar looking young men, only, though their faces were the same from the past, their spirits were different.
The duo in the kitchen failed to be thoroughly affected by Theo’s existence in their kitchen. Corey looked up from his soup, his eyes grazing upon the space Theo’s presence carved into. He gave it no further thought, his focus returning to the giant pot in front of him. Keith only spared Theo a short sideways glance.
Theo stood by the mouth of the kitchen. He knew that Corey and Keith were not deliberately ignoring him. They just did not care anymore. The duo moved with ease and precision. Theo swallowed when he saw Keith plate the most beautiful looking main course – chicken roulade containing a burst of strawberry, mint leaves and lime. It was decorated by angular lines of romesco sauce, forming a two-dimensional structure of the colosseum in Rome. Corey helped him with the decoration when he was not too busy with his soup. The entire kitchen smelt productive, and it translated well onto the plates they served. Theo could not handle it. He had to rub his eyes twice to make sure that he was not looking at just one chef, but two. It was not that they were similar looking, it’s just that their energy seemed mono-conscious.
“I’m here!” he yelled out angrily. Theo felt stupid at the thought of announcing his presence, but he could think of no other way of getting their attention. “Thought I would easily let you two get away with opening a restaurant?”
“We don’t care,” Keith said drily, still focused on his cooking. “Get out of our kitchen. This place is for chefs only.”
“You think that just because you have a restaurant you can order me around? Have you forgotten who I am?” Theo threatened.
“It is precisely because we remember who you are that we are asking you to leave,” Corey was the one who replied this time. “No one in this building is susceptible to your threats, Theo.”
“You…, you…,” Theo struggled to keep his voice from cracking. The anger wanted to manifest into an ugly, loud yell. The sight of a stoic, calmer Corey only agitated him further. “Just a few months ago, you were that person who wanted to be famous! You allowed yourself to be used, touched, groped, fondled by lechers like Kimpton! Don’t play innocent, Corey! I know who you truly are!”
“Yes, I did,” Corey kept his voice even. He was looking not at Theo, but at Keith, who held his gaze. “This is an admission, not out of guilt, but out of honour. I did do all that. I was your whore, and I debased myself just to be put on a pedestal. I lied, cheated, and hurt the man I loved.”
Theo gulped. Corey said this all without shame. He saw the look Corey and Keith shared in that moment. The line connecting their gaze was as rigid as concrete, nebulous as pride, yet it was truly there. Keith and Corey regarded each other with mutual respect. The duos spirits were amalgamated into one. And that’s when Theo realized, with fright – he did not have any power over them.
He was desperate. There was a real need to vanquish them, these two young men who were his antithesis. He was overcome with a sudden urge. He did not know how, or when, but he held a short paring knife in his hand now. Perhaps he had had it the time he entered the kitchen, perhaps he grabbed it off the counter at the side. Theo’s mind was having momentary blackouts. His breathing grew heavier. Knife in hand, he held it up, first to Keith, then at Corey, then back at Keith. He was horrified at having to resort to a primal method of blackmail, but could no longer use his mind. He wanted to hurt them, to bring them down, to vanquish… to kill… “KILL!”
He wanted them to have horrified looks etched on their otherwise stolid faces. But all their eyes reflected were the silver glint of the weapon, framed within a face that only showed pallid indifference.
“Do it,” a voice radiated in his mind.
The hand holding on to the stubby paring knife began to tremble. Was he going to resort to killing them in a kitchen? Was murder the only way to regain power?
“Drop the knife,” a smooth, deep voice came from behind.
Theo spun around and saw an extremely tall man, almost taller than he, holding a handgun up towards him. Beside this tall man was a woman whose hair was tied in a bun. He had thought that Anais and Kimpton were right behind him, but they had been replaced by these two strangers. Xavier Freed and Leah Chalmain had suspected something amiss the moment they saw Theo Devereux barge into the restaurant with Anais and Kimpton. The pair had decided to wait at the restaurant foyer. It was only when Ziya, the floor manager ran into the restaurant urgently asking one of the servers to call the police, did Leah and Xavier stand up. They knew then that Theo, Anais and Kimpton came here to cause trouble.
Even then, neither one of them expected a man like Theo Devereux to resort to such a flagrant display of violence. He stared back at them, knife still in his hand. But there was a small look of fright in his eyes now, as though he regretted his actions.
“Drop the knife,” Xavier repeated calmly. He was a proficient shooter and had been faced with many dangerous situations in his life. This was no different.
But to their surprise, it was Corey who turned off his gas stove and calmly walked towards a knife-wielding Theo. The rubber soles of his shoes squished against the floor as he reduced the distance between himself and his enemy. Corey stood right in front of Theo, staring not at the knife, but into his eyes. There was no rage or fear etched in his face, only serenity.
“You cannot hurt anyone here, Theo,” Corey calmly said. “This is our bastion, the last fortitude against people like you. It serves to protect and uplift people like Keith, Xavier, Leah, and all those people out there who work and dine here. These are the people who refuse to be threatened by money and fame. We work and put out dishes, Keith and I, not because we want to be acknowledged by charlatans and fakers. Xavier may not understand fine dining, but he understands the power of the pure and intelligent human mind. You never did, and never will. And thus, this place is not for you.”
It was fear that seeped through Theo’s veins. Though Corey was easily a head shorter than he, the younger chef now looked like a giant who could easily squish him into nonexistence.
Corey held Theo’s gaze and for a moment, neither men moved a muscle. Time stood still. Xavier still had his gun aimed at Theo, ready to shoot, though he was worried he may hit Corey too. Keith was no longer looking at his cooking. For the first time in his life, he was overcome with another emotion, too. Theo was not the only one filled with trepidation at that very moment.
After what seemed to be an eternity, Theo dropped the paring knife to the ground and backed away from Corey. “This… this isn’t over,” he said weakly. “I will find a way to bring you two down! Don’t think for a second that your restaurant will hold itself against the might of my power and influence.”
“We look forward to it,” Corey replied simply. “Now agai
n, I am getting bored of telling you this, Theo. Get out of our restaurant.”
Theo tried to cast one final murderous gaze, but it was rendered impotent in front of the four people. Slowly, he backed away and went out the kitchen door, unwilling to look at Keith or Corey.
“I’ll make sure he and his friends leave the place,” Xavier said quietly. He put his gun back into the holster, barely visible under his shirt. “You two continue with the cooking.”
“Thank you, Xavier” Corey said retorted. “We really appreciate your help!”
At Leah and Xavier’s departure, Corey picked up the paring knife from the floor and looked at it. A certain pride coursed through his body. He felt proud at having stared at his greatest fear and not blanche at its sight. Turning to Keith, he smiled.
“Never ever do that again,” Keith said, massaging his temple. “You gave me a fright over there, Corey. For a second, I thought Theo was going to ram that knife into your body! I was… I was… oh god, is this what being scared feels like?”
Corey had to laugh. Keith was never a man who showed his emotions unless they were within the solace of their bedroom. To see Keith show even the slightest hint of anxiety was too funny for Corey to handle. He walked over to his man and gave him a warm, small peck on the cheek.
“No one will ever hurt us, Keith. Not within our stronghold.”
They both knew that the war was far from over. Keith and Corey could predict how the next few months were to unfold. Anais Heart would write a scathing review of The Bastion in her magazine. She would call the place ‘laden with incompetency and charlatans in white waving spatulas in their soups.’ Kimpton would go as far as to create a whole television show, showcasing unpopular restaurants in Chicago, featuring The Bastion twice in its ten-episode run. They would enlist the help of their other friends, influencers, celebrities, even politicians to condemn The Bastion. It would be regarded as one columnist puts it, ‘- the pariah to the sophistication that is fine dining.’ Theo would coordinate all these smear campaigns against The Bastion, but would remain aghast at the fact that The Bastion lives up to its name – unfettered, unaffected, unbroken by the salvo of insults and propaganda thrown at it. It would stand as long as Corey and Keith remained true to their craft.
Corey knew all this the moment Theo walked out their kitchen that day. Releasing his grip from Keith’s shoulder, he returned to his soup, eager to get it out to his eager patrons waiting outside.
-end-