Graham is sitting on his bed while looking out the window to his garden. Though the night is peaceful and silent, he can't get rid of the feelings of anguish and fear that have been slowly consuming his mind.
Though this is just a dream, he desperately wants to understand what's causing such distress in the first place.
His home has been a safe place where he could rest assured every night of his life, yet he hasn't been able to even lay on the bed and close his eyes.
It's as if he was waiting for something… Or someone.
"Graham Larson", a firm voice calls him from afar.
He remains unfazed until he hears his name again, this time in a pleading tone. Graham can't identify whose voice that is. Nevertheless, he feels extremely drawn to him.
When his name is repeated for the third time, he gets up from the mattress and walks to the window. His eyes adjust to the dim moonlight but he doesn't see anything unusual.
Suddenly, the window that is just inches away from him breaks. Responding quickly, Graham covers his face with his arms, protecting it from the flying pieces of glass that pierce his skin mercilessly.
The young man closes his eyes and endures the pain of his bleeding wounds in silence.
It feels as if his arms were ignited by the simple touch of the glass. He wants to get rid of them, cut them out if he could.
A cold breeze startles him and takes the burning sensation away just for an instant. Then, the itch comes back stronger, spreading deeper into his body until his entire being is in flames.
His brown eyes open widely, hoping this could wake him up from this strange dream. What he doesn't know is that the nightmare is just beginning.
Graham has traveled all the way to the woods with magic that only dreams can bring. He looks around with desperation, finding nothing more than tall trees surrounding him. It doesn't matter how hard he tries, the prevailing darkness doesn't let him see past them.
He wants to hear that voice again. He wants it to guide him to the place where he's supposed to be. He wants it to put out the fire in his soul.
Unfortunately, he has the feeling that the only way to hear that voice again is to endure the flames that have already spread to the grass beneath his feet and the few branches close to him.
Soon, the green of the forest has turnt to its complementary color. Only the starless, black sky remains safe from the torturous red that emanated from his body.
Graham falls to his knees, his fingers digging easily in the ashes that have started to form on the ground.
The feeling of despair weakens after what seems like forever. A freezing breeze makes him shiver as it extinguishes the flames unhurriedly.
Even though his entire body is cold as stone now, his pupils continue to be clouded with red.
He hates that the fire seems to still be trapped inside his eyes. If he wanted, he would pull them out with no hesitation. However, what he really wants is to hear that voice calling his name at least one more time.
And the only way to hear it is by letting the flames consume him again and again.
Good news is that he only lives in this hell until he wakes up.
The alarm goes off earlier than usual, breaking the silence of a peaceful weekend. Graham's body is covered in sweat and his mind is still filled with anguish from the horrible dream he's just had.
Though he found it strange and extremely realistic, he believes that dreams are just a fraction of one's imagination, and that they have nothing to do with reality.
Thus, he decides to forget about it as he gets ready for the day.
After taking a shower and dressing up neatly, he turns on the TV to hear the news from the kitchen while preparing a cup of coffee.
Graham leans back on the counter that divides the area with the dining room. He stretches his neck with a sigh, pushing back the memories of his dream one last time.
His eyes soon fix on the coffee maker, as if he could speed up the process by just looking at it. Though he's aware of the information said on the TV, he's wondering what dishes will Aiden prepare today.
Larson's mouth starts watering when he remembers reading the recipe for lemon cookies. Sadly, they had both agreed that the recipe wasn't contest material, which makes him believe that he'll never taste those cookies unless they're included in Indigo's menu.
The coffee is finally ready and poured in his black mug when his phone rings. He dismisses the reminder, hating the idea of having to attend another blind date in four days.
His right hand reaches for the mug while his left one saves the device in the pockets of his blue trousers.
A quiet hum escapes his lips after taking a sip of the hot beverage. He really enjoys this very moment. It doesn't matter if he experiences it every day for the rest of his life, he'd still love it and wouldn't have it any other way.
Once he's done savoring his coffee, Graham places the mug in the dishwasher and walks towards the bathroom. He brushes his teeth and makes sure that his appearance is flawless.
Then, he walks back to the living room and takes the remote control. He's about to turn the TV off when a last minute announcement is said in the live broadcast.
"A suicide letter was found in the apartment of the actor Cole Underhill", the reporter informs. "It's been confirmed that the handwriting doesn't match his. However, there's no trace of the body, which is why he's been declared as a missing person…"
Larson purses his lips together and turns off the device by pressing a button.
Due to the light traffic, Graham arrives at Indigo with time to spare. He leaves his car in a parking lot nearby and walks two blocks to the restaurant.
He types the first message on his chat with Aiden: "I've arrived."
A few minutes later, he gets a response telling him the directions to enter through the back door of the restaurant, which leads directly to the kitchen.
Following the instructions, Graham finds Aiden already waiting for him.
"Sorry for making you enter through this door, but you know the restaurant isn't open yet", the red-haired man explains with an apologetical smile.
"No problem at all." Graham shakes his hand firmly, placing his left hand on top of Aiden's forearm.
The red-haired man groans with pain in response to the touch, which makes Graham feel worried.
"I'm ok. I just burnt myself yesterday by accident", he reassures while quickly lowering his arm to hide the healing bruises under his clothes.
"Oh, I'm so sorry", Larson apologizes profusely, not suspecting that Aiden's excuse is a lie and that there are more injuries on his body. "Have you been preparing too much food? You look very tired", he adds before entering the establishment.
"I haven't been sleeping well lately, but nothing to worry about. I've prepared something special for you. What does it smell like?" Aiden asks playfully, still unwilling to reveal the dishes for the day.
Graham smiles fondly.
"It smells like something is burning."
Aiden frowns. Although he believes that Graham is just joking around, he doesn't take the risk and rushes the rest of the way back to the stove.
"Nothing is burning!" The red-haired man reproaches with a pout while stirring the containers of the skillet carefully.
Graham soon joins his side and takes a deep breath in an attempt to identify the main ingredient of the sauce.
"Are you repeating the ginger pork recipe?"
"No." Aiden replies with a smirk. "I won't tell you, so don't insist."
"Fine."
When that conversation finishes, Aiden is consumed by his passion for cooking and doesn't see, smell or hear anything that's unrelated to the recipe he follows.
Graham understands this very well, which is the reason why he remains silent while watching every single one of his elegant movements. Without realizing, he's soon imagining a spotlight directed to the chef; almost as if he was part of an exhibition in a museum.
"And… It's done", Aiden announces all of a sudden, catching Graham staring at him. "Did I stain my apron or something?"
"Oh, no. It's nothing. I was thinking about something else, sorry", he replies after shaking his head and looking at the dishes placed on the counter in front of him. "These look good."
"When may I hear the results of my evaluation?"
"After I finish evaluating these."
Aiden pouts, but doesn't complain about it. Instead, he makes sure that he's cleaned every utensil he's used. The kitchen must be clean when the rest of the employees arrive.
"If you don't mind me asking, why are you preparing for the contest here and not at home?" The brown-haired man asks while taking some notes on his phone about the dishes.
"Well, the owner gave me permission because my apartment is too small and it doesn't even have a proper kitchen."
"Is your salary that low?"
"It isn't low. The thing is that I donate most of it to people in need." Aiden explains after chuckling at his companion's surprised tone. "I actually want to donate part of the prize of the contest if I win first place."
"Really?" Graham looks back at him, only now realizing how tired his bright green eyes look.
"Yes. I love preparing delicious meals for fancy restaurants, but I also want people with lower resources to live without worrying about what to eat."
"That's very nice of you. I know you'll bring home that victory."
"Thanks."
"Now, you need to tell me what this is because I have no idea."
Aiden gives him a cheeky grin while pointing at the first dish he prepared.
"This is foie gras with fig, pear and grape chutney."
"You didn't tell me because you thought I wouldn't like eating goose liver", Graham concludes with a raised eyebrow, his mouth opening slightly to ease the fire created by the chili in the dish.
"Maybe… Is it too spicy?" Aiden asks while hurriedly getting a glass of milk.
"It is, but I can handle it", he replies, knowing well that he can't handle it and that he'll drink the entire glass of milk as soon as he has it in his hands.
"I'm sorry."
"No problem", Graham reassures after leaving the empty glass on the counter. His face has turned slightly red and he feels his lips a little thicker than usual.
"I'm guessing that one got a horrible score?"
"No, it's really me who is not used to spicy food."
"Noted."
"May I continue?"
With a nod, they move on to the second dish.
"This is focaccia garnished with roasted vegetables. Not spicy, I promise."
Graham takes some notes again while taking a bite of the soft bread. The chef waits patiently, his eyes vigilant to any physical response from his amateur evaluator that could give away his thoughts about the dish.
"Are you ready for my verdict?" The older man asks, ignorant to the fact that Aiden already knows how much he enjoyed the food he's just eaten.
"Yes, please."
"Let's begin with yesterday's dishes", Graham offers, ready to read what he wrote about the ginger pork.
Aiden listens to every comment and makes mental notes regarding Graham's suggestions. Even though he knows that he could have done a better job with the tea-smoked bread and the apple toffee cake, he had another serious business in mind that he took care of later that night.
Still, he believes deep down that none of these recipes is enough to grant him a place in the final stage of the contest. After all, judges won't have the opportunity to taste the dishes when picking the five finalists, which means that he must submit a delicious recipe that catches the eye and attention of anyone who reads it.
"Are you ok?" Graham asks when he realizes the look of despair on Aiden's features. "I meant no offense and I'm no expert, I just wanted to help."
The red-haired man smiles shyly, giving up on hiding his mental and physical exhaustion.
"I know. I just can't decide on which recipe to submit", he admits with a heavy sigh.
Larson purses his lips together, understanding the exasperation he's feeling.
"Hey, we still have some time to figure it out. Don't worry too much about it."
Aiden wants to smile at his poor attempt to cheer him up, but the fact that he used 'we' instead of 'you' makes him feel even more frustrated for a moment.
The only thing that calms his nerves is remembering that his friendship with Graham will be over soon, and that he won't put him in danger in any way.
"Thank you."