The month flew by faster than I could have ever imagined. It felt like one minute I was sitting in Kevin's cramped apartment talking about website layouts, and the next, I was standing in the middle of my very own restaurant. Our restaurant. It was a whirlwind of construction workers, contractors, furniture deliveries, and late nights with Sasha, piecing together every little detail. Vanessa's funds had turned what once seemed like an impossible dream into a fucking reality.
I looked around the space, feeling a sense of pride swelling in my chest. The exposed brick walls gave the place a raw, authentic feel. We had an open kitchen concept, so the moment you walked in, you could see the chefs working their magic—pots steaming, flames flickering under sauté pans. Sasha and I had picked out every piece of furniture ourselves. The wooden tables had a smooth, polished finish, and the chairs were comfortable, but still casual enough to fit the street-food vibe we were going for. Neon signs in bright reds and yellows lit up one corner of the room, their playful glow adding to the atmosphere.
Sasha stood beside me, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. She was grinning from ear to ear, her medium-length brown ponytail swaying as she took a long, satisfied breath.
"We fking did it, Tristan," she said, her voice full of excitement and exhaustion. "Holy shit, I can't believe this is actually real."
I laughed, feeling the same sense of disbelief. "Yeah, we fking did it. I mean, look at this place. It's perfect. This is exactly what we envisioned."
Sasha walked around, running her fingers across one of the tables, inspecting everything like it was a piece of art. "I love the vibe, man. It's casual but classy. Like, people will feel comfortable, but at the same time, they'll know they're getting quality food. This is gonna be fucking legendary."
I couldn't stop grinning. "You're right. The food is gonna blow people's minds. And with Kevin's website, we're gonna get so much foot traffic, we won't even know what to do with it all."
Sasha chuckled. "Yeah, Kevin better not fk that up. But honestly, Tristan, this is your dream, man. You made this happen."
I shook my head, waving off the compliment. "Nah, we made this happen. There's no way I could've done this without you, Sash. You're the best fucking chef I know. And I'm glad we're in this together."
She beamed at me, her hazel eyes glowing with excitement. "I'm proud of us. Like, look at this. We took a shitty rundown space and turned it into something beautiful. And in just a month. That's crazy."
"Thanks to Vanessa's money," I said, the thought of her lingering at the back of my mind. "Without her, none of this would've been possible."
Sasha gave me a playful nudge. "Yeah, you and your sugar mommy. Guess having a rich MILF in your corner has its perks."
I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Don't make it weird."
"Too late. But seriously, man, she came through for you. That's gotta feel good, right? Knowing she believes in you?"
I nodded, though there was a knot in my stomach that I tried to ignore. Vanessa had definitely come through, but there was always that underlying tension. Her support came with strings attached, and even though she hadn't outright said anything, I knew she was watching everything closely. Still, I couldn't let that take away from this moment.
"Yeah," I said, trying to shake off the unease. "It does feel good. But honestly, what feels better is seeing this place finally come together. After all those years of talking about it, we're finally here."
Sasha grinned, leaning against one of the tables. "Fuck yeah, we are. And we're gonna crush it, Tristan. This is just the beginning."
We stood there for a moment, both of us taking in the space, letting the reality of what we'd accomplished sink in. It was hard to believe that just a few months ago, this had all been nothing but a wild idea. And now? Now we had a fully renovated, fully functional restaurant. The kitchen was stocked, the tables were set, and we were ready to go.
"So, what's next?" Sasha asked, crossing her arms, her smile still plastered on her face. "What's the game plan for opening day?"
I thought for a moment, running through the checklist in my head. "Well, Kevin's almost done with the website, so we'll start pushing the launch online next week. We've got to get some photos of the menu items, maybe a little teaser video to hype people up. I was thinking we could do a soft opening for friends and family first. Get some feedback, see what works, what doesn't, and then do the grand opening a week later."
Sasha nodded. "Sounds solid. I'll get the kitchen staff ready. We'll do some test runs this week, make sure everything's up to standard. I want people to taste the food and fucking feel something, you know? Like, I want them to leave here talking about it."
"They will," I said confidently. "With your food and the atmosphere we've built? They'll be hooked."
Sasha gave me a look, her grin turning mischievous. "You know, you're a cocky bastard sometimes, Tristan. But you've earned it."
I smirked. "It's not cocky if it's true."
She laughed, giving me a playful shove. "Alright, alright. I'll let you have that one."
We stood there for a while longer, just soaking in the moment. The restaurant wasn't open yet, but it already felt alive. The excitement, the potential—it was all buzzing in the air.
Sasha walked over to the neon sign we'd put up near the entrance. It was one of the final touches, and we'd both agreed it was perfect. In bold, glowing letters, it read: Flavors of the World. Underneath, in smaller script, it said: Street food, redefined.
Sasha flipped the switch, and the sign lit up, casting a warm glow over the space. "Now it's fucking official," she said, turning back to me with a satisfied smile.
I nodded, feeling a sense of pride swell in my chest. "Yeah. Now it's official."
This was it. The dream we'd talked about for so long was finally real. And I couldn't wait to see what came next.
Q: Have you ever worked in a restaurant before?