Chapter Text
It's a so-so morning. The sun is rising, the birds are waking up, you know the drill. Rody doesn't want to be awake right now, but alas, new job, new schedule. Who opens a bistro at 7:00 AM anyways? No one will show up that early. Well, no customers, at least. Rody will be showing up at 6:30; that's when training starts. Seriously, could this not have been done the night prior? Ugh... Speaking of the ungodly time he has to be at work, what time is it now? Rody rubs his eyes before picking up his alarm clock to check.
6:18 AM.
Oh shi-
In an instant, Rody goes from half awake to bolting across the room. He can't be late to work on the first day. So he's darting back and forth while messily throwing on the different parts of his uniform. He hopes his hair looks okay-ish, because he most certainly doesn't have time to fix it properly. Nor does he have time for fiddling with a tie for thirty minutes. Why are ties required to look 'formal' anyways? It's kinda stupid in Rody's opinion. But whatever, he doesn't have the time to waste on meaningless pondering. Out the door he goes!
Riding on his bike, Rody starts moving towards where he needs to be. He got really lucky with the placement of the bistro, it's only about ten minutes away. It's a fancy place; called La Gueule de Saturne. The name is... interesting. Who is he kidding, it's really weird. 'The mouth of Saturn'? What does that even mean? The guy running the place seems a bit odd too, but Rody doesn't like to make assumptions before he's actually met someone, so he puts that train of thought on hold. Plus, this guy is his boss, so Rody should probably put at least a little respect on his name. Oh, look, there's the bistro!
Rody parks his bike next to the door. New job, first day. This is how he wins her back. Let's do this.
He opens the door and walks into the bistro with an optimistic skip in his step. And then Rody spotted his boss. Vincent Charbonneau. He has his arms crossed and looks irritated. He's also faced towards a clock. Rody looks up at said clock.
6:30 AM.
Well, isn't that dandy! Rody smiles.
"Hey, look, I'm on time!"
Vincent looks down from the clock and glares at Rody. His eyes are harsh and cold. A man could go crazy just for looking at 'em too long. Seems he isn't as pleased as Rody is.
"Barely."
Yikes, even his voice is laced with venom. Rody tries to laugh it off in an attempt to not look intimidated.
"I'm assuming you already have some of this down considering your resume. Be polite to customers, smile, all that noise."
Rody nods. He's very familiar with these types of jobs. So much so, he decides to brag. Again, as to not seem intimidated.
"Twenty-eight service jobs over the course of seven years is pretty impressive if you think about it!"
"And even less so when you think about it for two seconds more than that."
Ouch. That rebuttal was sharp.
"Moving on. La Gueule de Saturne has a different menu system than most restaurants..."
As his new boss continued, Rody couldn't help but space out a little bit. He was listening and absorbing the information, of course, but he was also examining his surroundings. And by 'his surroundings,' I mean Vincent.
Vincent Charbonneau is a bit of a spectacle. Rody had read about him in magazines and news articles, but had never felt too strongly about him. Looking at him now, in person and having a conversation, it's a bit easier to get a gauge on him. The way his hair is nicely combed yet a few strands fall over his face, his tidy uniform being displayed by a slightly slouchy figure, his unimpressed expression and visible sleep deprivation he makes no attempt to hide, the overall professional attitude but occasional sour comments. Vince is nicely kept, but not perfect. He doesn't seem to be trying to be perfect either. It's as if he's just a well composed man by nature who doesn't care too much for constantly seeming flawless. Which is a bit nice on account of making Vince seem less like 'Vincent Charbonneau, world class chef' and more like a genuine person Rody can connect with. But it's also a little not nice, because the notion that Vince is just effortlessly that properly put together makes Rody look really pathetic and slobby in comparison.
"...The order in which you serve patrons their dishes is important. The order is appetizer, side, main, then dessert. Try not to get mixed up..."
Rody nods once more. He hopes this conversation is over soon. The smell of cigarettes coming from Vincent isn't very pleasant. He's also at a loss for where to look. He's already eyed over Vincent's features, which, thinking about that further, sounds kinda gay. But whatever, Rody's not gay, so it doesn't matter. Looking up at Vincent to make eye contact feels emasculating due to the height difference, so of course he doesn't really want to do that. But looking away from the speaker while they're talking to you is impolite, and Rody's parents didn't raise him with manners just for him to discard them whenever he wanted to. An internal sigh. Why must every little thing harbor a challenge or moral failure?
"...So, do you understand everything?"
"Yes, sir!"
A few of the details may be a little fuzzy, but eh, it should be fine.
The front door to the bistro jingles open. Rody be damned, a customer did indeed show up this early in the morning. He glances over at Vincent for some sort of signal to go; he doesn't know whether or not Vince wants to guide him through the first day a bit more.
"...The hell are you looking at me for? Go do your job."
Oh. Rody stutters out a weak "Right!" before hurrying over to the patron at the door. That little fumble was kinda embarrassing. Whatever, just act like it never happened. Blind confidence is probably useful. Rody doesn't know for sure; he's just guessing. No one really tells you how to behave like a normal human being, but it seems like everyone else just knows by default. Funny how that works. Also funny how Rody can just ramble on the inside while doing a whole different task in reality. The patron previously standing in the doorway is now set at her table, and Rody's bringing the appetizer. Of course, he was still semi-attentive during verbal interaction. Smile, register what the customer asks for, it's quite easy. It's just happening in a separate layer of Rody's head. Not this one. This is where he has philosophical conversations with himself at two in the morning and ponders on all the other unnecessary thoughts that never shut up.
By the time the patron was finished eating and left after paying, Rody noticed Vincent staring at him from afar. That's probably normal. It's his first day, Vince just wants to make sure he does well! Even if his stare is scary and bordering a death glare. Maybe Vincent will be less intimidating once Rody talks to him and gets to know him better. Vince doesn't seem like the social type, though, so it's not very likely he'll start some sort of conversation. Before Rody could talk himself out of it, he began walking towards Vincent with the intent of making some small talk. How bad could this go? Surely not that much. Let's just hope saying that didn't jinx it. Too late to stop walking now, anyways.
Vince's still staring as Rody approaches. He's probably judging. Whatever. Rody stops walking once left at a normal conversation distance.
"Sooo,"
Rody really should've thought of conversation topics before diving into this. What does he even say?
"What's your favorite food?"
Good one! Vince is a chef! That's bound to be an interesting topic!
"...Lemons."
...There's probably more to it than that.
"That's a pretty noncommittal answer. Lemon what? Like lemon meringue pie, lemon cake, what exactly?"
"Just lemons."
Well, that is indeed an interesting answer.
"So you just... eat them raw? How do you enjoy that?"
"Rody, I'm tasteless."
Well yeah, that doesn't take a genius to figure out.
"I can tell based on the interior design of this place, but what does that have to do with your favorite food?"
Vincent narrows his eyes at Rody. Very unamused by the looks of it.
"I meant that literally. I can't taste food. That's why I like lemons, the sensation vaguely resembles flavor."
Oh. That's pretty tragic, considering his career. Imagine cooking for a living but never being able to taste what you make. That must be why all the bistro food has that bitter aftertaste.
"Man, you must be a miserable chef."
Vincent glares at Rody for a moment. It's the same cold stare Rody got this morning for almost being late.
"What's your favorite food then?"
That's a good question. Rody likes a lot of different things.
"Just one? How am I supposed to pick?"
"That's a pretty noncommittal answer."
Rody can't help but let out a little laugh at the irony. The air feels a little lighter now, because whaddya know, Vince can be a little humorous! Rody can even see the faint essence of a smile on his face!... Just the essence, though. But whatever, this is a win!
"Fair enough, you got me there."
As if it were waiting for the conversation to reach a stopping point, the bistro entrance opens once more.
"Well, guess I better get back to work. See ya later, Chef!"
Rody gives a small wave goodbye, Vincent nods as he reverts back to his default expression.
As he walks away, Rody can't help but get a little optimistic in his thoughts.
Maybe this job won't turn out half bad!
Tip, tap, tip, tap,
That's the sound of impatience. Vincent is tapping his foot while staring up at a clock. 6:29 AM. Training starts at 6:30. The new waiter isn't here yet. Does this guy have any respect for Vincent and his time? He'd had the bistro prepared since six just in case the waiter showed up early. This guy's lucky he even gets the benefit of being told how to do his job... Hey, that was a good one, Vincent should tell him that once he finally arrives.
Vincent's train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the bistro entrance opening. He turns his head to see who would be there. Lo and behold, there he is, Rody, the new waiter. He looks rushed; disheveled and a bit out of breath. Messy auburn hair askew, uniform sleeves rolled up, and tie completely untied. Not tied badly, no, just untied completely. Jesus christ, is professionalism truly dead? Vincent wouldn't be surprised if Rody's shoes were on the wrong feet.
The two seemed to simultaneously look up at the clock Vincent had previously been staring down. 6:30 AM.
"Hey, look, I'm on time!"
Rody's smiling like a fool. Albeit a stupidly charming fool. It's infuriating how much Rody's unintentional charisma carried him through the interview process. Rest assured, it was very unintentional. This klutz couldn't be a smooth talker if his life depended on it.
"Barely."
Rody chuckles awkwardly in response. Vincent decides to move right along to training, making his way over to Rody and stopping once left at a casual talking distance.
"I'm assuming you already have some of this down considering your resume. Be polite to customers, smile, all that noise."
The new hire nods. He seems... a little intimidated? Nervous, for sure. His eyes seem to dart around absentmindedly.
"Twenty-eight service jobs over the course of seven years is pretty impressive if you think about it!"
He seems... oddly proud of that. It was probably Rody's attempt at 'fake-it-til-you-make-it'-ing his way into confidence.
"And even less so when you think about it for two seconds more than that."
"Moving on. La Gueule de Saturne has a different menu system than most restaurants..."
While Vincent spoke, he also paid attention to Rody's behavior. His eyes couldn't pick a place to look, but they did look just about everywhere. Everywhere on Vincent, that is. It almost seemed like Rody was checking him out for a moment, but that's practically guaranteed to be a wishful delusion on Vincent's part. Hopefully Rody isn't always like this; it could potentially lower reviews. The busy work of being a waiter will probably iron out the antsy tendencies, so Vincent isn't too worried.
"...So, do you understand everything?"
"Yes, sir!"
Vincent doesn't fully believe that, but he can't really do much else here.
The entrance to the bistro opens once more, pulling the attention of Vincent and Rody in that direction. It's a patron. Vincent takes a quick glance at the clock. 7:04 AM. Time to get La Gueule De Saturne moving for the day. Rody appears to be peering at Vincent in anticipation.
"...The hell are you looking at me for? Go do your job."
Rody stammered out a quiet and slightly embarrassed "Right!" before scurrying off to attend to the woman waiting in the doorway.
He seems to be doing just fine with the patron so far. He looks significantly less nervous now. Hm. Maybe Vincent is just scary to talk to and Rody doesn't necessarily have eye contact problems. Fear is one of the two common reactions other people have when seeing Vincent. The other one is fawning, which does get a bit irritating at times. Either way, attraction is useless to Vincent, no matter who it comes from. Even if it were mutual, he can't risk the public knowing about a relationship like that. His career would be over in an instant. In addition, the other party could most definitely use that information as blackmail. Which is also not good. So overall, it's too much of a risk to take, thus Vincent has already accepted the fact that he will be alone for the remainder of his life.
..Oh. Vincent spaced out for a minute there. Tsk, he really needs to stop thinking about things he's already come to terms with. Looks like Rody's already serving the appetizer. He's doing decent time wise. That will come in handy on busier days. Mondays are some of the slower week days, so Rody shouldn't have a very difficult time today.
Vincent will oversee Rody's service of the next few patrons, and if it seems okay, he'll probably go to his office. Maybe have a smoke break. Just the usual routine.
Well, that was the plan, at least. You see, Rody kept glancing over at Vincent. And of course, Vincent was already looking at him to observe his work performance. Thus, the following ensued; Rody would turn his eyes towards Vincent, make eye contact with him for a few moments, look away awkwardly, then repeat the cycle after a few minutes. Vincent is no stranger to being looked at. Whether they're glancing nervously, admiring, glaring, gawking, or just observing in general; these are all things he's used to. Rody's gaze seemed slightly wary, yet also curious. Sometimes he even looked as if he was contemplating something. It's another normal reaction that Vincent is indeed used to. But it feels different this time. It feels like Rody can see right through him. It feels like he knows. Like he knows what happened.
...It's probably just Vincent's subconscious playing tricks on him. Rody couldn't possibly know.
Rody's walking this way right now. Wait. What. What's he doing? Is this about to be a confrontation?
Rody stops in front of Vincent.
"Sooo... What's your favorite food?"
Oh. Nevermind, it was definitely just paranoia. Vincent pauses before answering.
"Lemons."
Rody's facial expression shifts. There it is. The look of utter confusion. Every time Vincent answers this question, he gets that same look. Rody is no exception, of course.
"That's a pretty noncommittal answer. Lemon what? Like lemon meringue pie, lemon cake, what exactly?"
"Just lemons."
"So you just... eat them raw? How do you enjoy that?"
Vincent sighs.
"Rody, I'm tasteless."
"I can tell based on the interior design of this place, but what does that have to do with your favorite food?"
"I meant that literally. I can't taste food. That's why I like lemons, the sensation vaguely resembles flavor."
Vincent really wanted to call Rody a nitwit just then, but refrained. After all, Vincent has been working on being 'nicer' to people as of lately. Rody seems to pause for a moment before speaking once more.
"Man, you must be a miserable chef."
This idiot is incredibly lucky he's the only waiter and Vincent is willing to give him the benefit of the doubt regarding whether or not these jabs are intentional.
"What's your favorite food then?"
Rody seems to contemplate for a moment.
"Just one? How am I supposed to pick?"
"That's a pretty noncommittal answer."
Rody let out a laugh. Vincent usually hates laughter. Friends talking too loud in public spaces, strangers trying too hard to win his affection, douches who think it's funny to laugh at every irregular person that passes by minding their own business; laughter is always an annoyance. But this is different. Seeing Rody genuinely smile and laugh out of humor is... nice. His laugh is bright, almost angelic. This has to be what the phrase "a smile that lights up the room" really means. The feeling even leaks onto Vincent's face too. The corners of his lips turn up just the tiniest bit. It's kinda nice.
"Fair enough, you got me there."
Rody's still giggling just a tad. It really brings out his smile. His beautifully foolish smile.
Before Rody can continue, the bistro door opens once more. Well, that's okay. Vincent's satisfied with this interaction. He can't be getting too chummy.
Rody gives Vincent a little wave as he walks away with a skip in his step, "Well, guess I better get back to work. See ya later, Chef!"
Vincent nods in acknowledgment as he watches the other leave to do his job.
Hm. He's a lot more chatty than most new hires. Seems he's already gotten comfortable with casual conversation. Which is astounding, considering some of the cooks who've worked here for years are still terrified to mutter a word to Vincent. Then again, if this were one of them instead of Rody, Vincent would've probably reprimanded them, or at least told them to stop chatting and get back to working. Curious how that works. Why is Rody some sort of exception? Why is Vincent not bothered by Rody like he is other people? Is it just some sort of odd guilt? It's strange. It's illogical. But it doesn't feel too bad.
Well. Maybe it won't hurt to let this fester a little bit.