Chapter Text
I dropped the piping bag with a frustrated grunt. In front of me, the three-tier cake I’d spent all afternoon baking looked structurally perfect, but the decoration was a total disaster in my head.
"What’s with the face?" Sapnap asked, walking into the kitchen and swiping a strawberry slice from my table. "It smells like heaven in here."
"It’s supposed to be a pink-to-peach gradient, Sap," I said, rubbing my eyes until they stung. "But to me, it’s just different shades of... something. The professor is going to fail me if this looks like a paint accident."
Suddenly, Dream appeared behind Sapnap, snatching the strawberry from his hand in one quick motion. He stepped closer to me and inspected the cake with an annoying level of detail.
"It’s not bad," Dream said, leaning in so close that I could smell his cologne mixing with the flour in the air. "But if you wanted peach, you just created a very interesting new shade of greenish-gray."
I wanted to hit him, but Dream stopped me by gently catching my wrist.
"Take it easy, colorblind. That’s why we’re a team, right? You make it taste better than anything in the world, and I make sure it doesn't look like a swamp. Hand me the spatula."
"Don't worry, you cocky brat. I'll strip the frosting; you go get more heavy cream," I snapped, elbowing him to get him to back off.
"Besides, what is this idiot even doing in our class?" I looked at Sapnap with a bit of friendly annoyance. He immediately played the victim.
"They told me there’d be free samples, so here I am. But apparently, people just snatch them out of my hands," he said, shooting Dream the middle finger.
"And the professor let you in just for that, Sap?" I started scraping the frosting off the cake and into a bowl, which Sapnap immediately began eating from by the spoonful. "I don't know, I didn't even know you guys had a professor. If it’s the one with the glasses, he’s outside flirting with students, I guess. Or whatever."
"Sapnap, stop eating the semester’s budget!" I barked at him, though I couldn't help a small smile seeing his cheek stained with sugar. "Dream, move! If the base gets too warm, the new frosting won't set."
Dream let out a laugh and bolted toward the fridge where our supplies were kept, dodging a couple of other students who were also running around in a panic.
"Hey, George," Sapnap said with his mouth half-full, "seriously, this tastes amazing. If that professor doesn't give you an A, it's because he's more interested in the hallway gossip than your talent. But for real... what color was this supposed to be? Because it looks like the color of that shirt Dream hasn't washed in three weeks."
I looked at the bowl in horror, then glared at him. "I literally just told you, Sap! It was supposed to be a pink-to-peach gradient."
"Well, it looks like wet cement, buddy. Good thing you've got the blond guy to save your skin."
Dream returned, panting, with the carton of cream. "Got it! I almost got into a fight with a girl because I bumped into her—she almost face-planted into a cake."
I snatched the cream without looking at him. "Less talking, more whisking, Dream. If this isn't ready in five minutes, I’m telling everyone the swamp color was your idea."
"Everyone knows the only one with a 'gift' for those master colors is you, George," Dream wheezed, laughing. Sapnap joined in the teasing, but I just ignored them.
"Dream, you idiot, one carton isn't going to be enough for the whole cake," I said as I poured the cream and sugar into the mixer.
"It’s your turn to go then. If that girl sees me again, she’ll probably stab me with her spatula." He shoved me out of the way, and with no other choice, I went running for the rest of the cream.
"Don't forget the flowers and my chocolate!" Sapnap yelled after me.
I shot out of the kitchen, dodging service carts and a group of freshmen who looked like they were on the verge of tears over a broken shortcrust pastry. My mind was racing: Cream, sugar flowers, and chocolate for the starving Sapnap.
When I reached the supply room, it was a total battlefield. There was flour on the floor and the air felt heavy. I searched desperately through the dairy fridge until I found the cream and the chocolate—but I was still missing the flowers. My vision betrayed me again as I stared at the shelves filled with jars of bright colors.
"Are these the lilac flowers?" I whispered, looking at a label that was stained and burnt.
"If I were you, I wouldn't use those. Unless you’re trying to recreate a swamp, of course."
I spun around. Fundy was there, his apron stained with jam, adjusting the chef’s hat that always sat a bit crooked.
"Fundy, I don't have time for your culinary riddles," I said, trying to catch my breath. "I need heavy cream and the lilac decorative flowers."
Fundy chuckled and pointed to a shelf I had overlooked three times. I turned and grabbed a box that said Lilac. Without a second thought, I started to run, but Fundy yelled after me, "Hey! Those aren't lilacs, those are the leftovers from the other boxes, George!"
"Ugh!" I bolted back for another box, this time making sure with another student that they were actually the right ones.
Before I could leave, Fundy yelled one last time, "And don't you dare combine that chocolate with those flowers! If you do, I’m reporting you for a federal crime!"
"Sapnap doesn't have a palate, he’s just hungry! Thanks, Fundy! Good luck with... whatever it is you’re trying to burn today!" I ran as fast as I could, dodging trays and trying not to slip on the flour-covered floor.
"It’s an experimental multi-flavor jam!" he shouted back, but I was already halfway down the hall.
I entered the main kitchen almost skidding to a stop. The sound of mixers and the heat from the ovens hit me again, but my eyes went straight to station 404. Dream was whisking by hand with an intensity that made his biceps stand out under his chef’s coat, while Sapnap was trying to keep the old frosting from melting.
"Got them!" I exclaimed, dropping the supplies on the table like they were war trophies.
"Finally!" Dream stopped to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "I was starting to think the spatula girl had taken you hostage."
"Why are you whisking by hand?" I snapped.
"Let’s just say Sapnap spilled water on the outlet. But Karl is doing us a favor and whisking the rest in his mixer." His voice was calm and the cream looked good, so I didn't make a big deal out of it. We were out of time.
"It better be okay," I replied, opening the flower box. "By the way, Sapnap, Fundy says the chocolate is a federal crime."
"Fundy’s laws don't apply here," Sapnap interrupted, snatching the chocolate bar with a victorious grin.
We worked in a frantic silence for the final few minutes. Dream finished whipping the cream to a perfect texture, and I—with shaking but precise hands—arranged the lilac flowers into a crown around the cake. The contrast was... well, Dream assured me it looked aesthetically superior, and for once, I decided to trust him blindly.
Just as I placed the last flower, the classroom door swung wide open. Professor Sam walked in with his clipboard, checking his watch with a stern expression.
"Hands up!" he shouted. "Time is up."
Dream and I looked at each other, breathless and sugar-stained. He flashed me a quick smile—the kind that always made me forget we were in a hot, crowded classroom.
"We did it, colorblind," he whispered.
"We did it," I repeated, though in my head, I knew this was only the beginning of twenty-four weeks of absolute chaos.
Then, it finally clicked... Sapnap wasn't even a student, and he was literally sitting on the table.
"Sapnap, get out of here if you don't want us to fail," I whispered, while the professor was distracted by the mess on the floor.
"Aye, aye, Chef," he said, still munching on his chocolate as he hopped off the table and bolted for the bathrooms, nearly colliding with Karl on his way out.