Chapter Text
Fuck these rich people.
Yeonho had been waiting tables at RAVI’s for a mere two days, and so far, had been publicly humiliated no less than four times, which was a pretty insane ratio, all things considered. It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong, either. He wasn’t some bumbling idiot; you didn’t get a job at RAVI’s without a minimum of two years’ experience, plus a week and half of training, and he’d passed the application process effortlessly. And yet, here he was, standing in the dim light of the walk-in refrigerator, furiously scrubbing tears out of his eyes, sniffling snot back into his nose, with his apron reeking of expensive champagne. This really was a new low; he’d never felt so pathetic in his life.
And it was just so frustrating, because this was all so stupid. These goddamn rich people waited weeks for reservations, just to get small dishes at astonishing prices, and apparently, be total assholes to staff when their steaks were one degree over rare, or their request to substitute the sea bass with swordfish couldn’t be accommodated because they didn’t serve swordfish. Or in tonight’s case, when the bottle of Moët & Chandon wasn’t complimentary after a 7-minute delay in seating. What was the point of wasting a ₩700,000 bottle of champagne by splashing your glass into the face of your waiter? Especially when you were going to have to pay for it anyway? He was sure the bottle would be comped now though, with the way Yeonho had marched out of the dining room, leaving that wretched woman to scream in his wake, and he knew that ₩700,000 would be coming straight out of his first paycheck. He wasn’t even sure he’d be getting his first paycheck at this rate.
Yeonho let out a frustrated little noise, somewhere between a whine and a growl, before yanking at the strings of his apron and flinging it up over his head, mussing up his bleached hair. And he felt even more stupid as the apron fell to the ground in a heap, because he couldn’t just leave it there, so he had to bend over to pick it back up and there were fresh tears springing to his eyes and-
“I said do it again, Kangmin! We can’t keep getting away with calling them charred mushrooms until you learn to stop burning them!”
Yeonho straightened back up with a little ‘eep’ of surprise as the door was flung open, the cacophony of the kitchen and restaurant suddenly spilling into the previously silent room, along with one of the line cooks shouting over his shoulder. Yeonho recognized him as one of the line cooks anyway, the tall one with the black hair and dark eyes, always barking commands, and his subordinates always rushing to comply. Yeonho had thought he was kind of intimidating, and he felt a flutter of panic in his chest at being caught out like this, but when the other man turned fully into the refrigerator and spotted him, the stern lines that had been etching his face smoothed out almost instantly.
“Ah-” the other man muttered, peeking back out through the crack in the door before quickly shutting it with his hip. When he turned back to face Yeonho, there was an awkward, nervous smile on his lips, and a curiously soft understanding in his eyes. “First time crying in the walk-in?” he asked, and though his tone wasn’t completely devoid of teasing, Yeonho could hear the genuine concern in his voice.
And Yeonho found himself huffing out a laugh, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve again, sniffling against his will. “I guess so,” he replied, his voice unusually thick with emotion. When he looked back up to the other man, he was still standing there patiently, his fingers tented against his stomach, a sympathetic smile still tugging at his lips. “Is uh… is that a common thing?” Yeonho asked, running a hand through his hair, trying to get it back under control.
The other man closed his eyes, nodding solemnly, and Yeonho really couldn’t help but smile at the mocking gravity of it. “It’s a rite of passage,” the cook proclaimed, finally shifting from his place to look over one of the shelves lining the walls of the refrigerator. He was pulling down a box of whole lion’s mane mushrooms as he explained, “You certainly aren’t the first, and this probably won’t be the last.” He easily hefted the box onto one shoulder, and Yeonho couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on the flex of the other man’s arms under the short sleeves of his chef’s coat. But his gaze was dragged away as he was suddenly met with a finger gun pointed at him, followed by a wink. “Don’t let them get to you!”
And with that, the man exited the walk-in, leaving Yeonho slightly dazed and giddy with confusion, because what the fuck was that? He couldn’t imagine how he’d ever thought that guy had been intimidating… But at least he was smiling again. All he could do was chuckle quietly as he wiped his eyes one last time, before heaving a heavy sigh and following suit to go get a new apron.