Opening day arrived like a storm, and I could feel the buzz in the air before I even stepped foot into the restaurant. It was surreal. We'd spent months planning, preparing, hustling, and now, here we were. The line outside stretched down the block, people already gathering before we'd even unlocked the doors. Word had spread faster than we'd imagined. The Instagram posts, TikTok videos, and influencer shoutouts had done their job. It felt like the whole city of LA was waiting for a taste of what we had to offer.
I stood by the entrance, watching as more and more people crowded the sidewalk. I glanced over at Sasha, who was pacing by the kitchen door, her excitement barely contained.
"Holy shit," I muttered under my breath, grinning. "Look at all these people."
Sasha looked up, her eyes wide as she scanned the crowd. "I know, right? This is fucking insane! I mean, we hoped for a good turnout, but this... this is next-level."
I nodded, feeling the adrenaline pump through me. "We're about to be slammed."
She grinned. "Good. That's exactly what we wanted."
At exactly noon, I unlocked the doors and the floodgates opened. People streamed in, filling the space, the chatter and excitement building into a steady hum that echoed through the restaurant. I barely had time to take it all in before the first wave of orders started coming in.
Sasha rushed to the kitchen, barking instructions to the staff like a drill sergeant. "Alright, team! We've been preparing for this day! I want these dishes coming out hot and fast! Let's show them why we're the best fking place in LA!"
I couldn't help but laugh. Sasha was in her element, her ponytail bouncing as she moved from station to station, checking on every dish, making sure everything was perfect. Meanwhile, I manned the front, greeting customers, shaking hands, making sure everyone was having a great time.
"Welcome to Flavors of the World," I said, grinning as I greeted a group of people who had just walked in. "You're in for a treat today. Make sure to grab one of our signature ramen tacos—they're already blowing up on Instagram."
A woman in the group laughed. "Oh, we've seen the posts. That's why we're here!"
"Great to hear! Enjoy your meal," I said, giving her a wink before turning to the next group.
The orders were flying in faster than I could keep up with, but the kitchen was holding its own. I could see the chefs working their asses off, flames leaping from the grills, pots bubbling with broth, steam filling the air. Sasha was in full control, keeping everything running like a well-oiled machine.
Halfway through the lunch rush, I stopped to take a breath, leaning against the counter as I watched the chaos unfold. The restaurant was packed, every table filled, people laughing, eating, taking photos of their food. The energy was electric.
Sasha came out from the kitchen, her face flushed from the heat but her smile as wide as ever. She slapped me on the back. "We're killing it, Tristan! People are loving the food!"
I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. "I know. This is fucking crazy. I didn't think we'd get this many people on day one."
She grinned, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "I told you, man. We're the hottest new spot in town. The influencers came through, and now everyone's here to see what the hype's about."
Just then, a guy walked up to us, a big grin on his face. "Hey, are you Tristan?" he asked, holding up his phone.
I nodded. "Yeah, that's me."
He turned his phone around, showing me his Instagram feed. "Dude, I've seen your place all over my feed the past week. Had to come check it out. This ramen taco is fucking insane, by the way."
I laughed, shaking his hand. "Thanks, man. Glad you're enjoying it. Feel free to post and tag us—we're doing a promo where you get a free drink if you tag three friends."
"Hell yeah, I'll do that right now," he said, turning back to his table to snap more photos of his food.
Sasha raised an eyebrow at me, smirking. "You're really milking that social media game, huh?"
I shrugged, grinning. "It's working, isn't it?"
She laughed. "Yeah, I guess it is."
As the day went on, the crowd never let up. The kitchen was slammed, but Sasha kept the orders flowing, and the waitstaff was on point, keeping everyone happy. I made my rounds, talking to customers, checking in with the staff, making sure everything was running smoothly. The energy in the restaurant was addictive, and I could feel the success in the air.
Around mid-afternoon, I stepped outside for a quick breather, just to clear my head. As soon as I stepped out, I saw the line was still there—dozens of people waiting to get in, chatting excitedly about the food. I couldn't help but smile. We'd done it. We'd fucking done it.
Sasha came out to join me a few minutes later, leaning against the wall next to me. She was breathing hard, her face red from the heat of the kitchen, but her eyes were lit up with excitement.
"Dude," she said, shaking her head. "I can't believe this turnout. We're killing it."
I nodded, still catching my breath. "I know. It's fucking wild. I mean, I knew we'd do well, but this is next-level shit."
Sasha grinned. "You better get used to it. This is just the beginning. Once word spreads even more, we're gonna be packed every day."
I laughed, wiping the sweat from my forehead. "I'm ready for it."
She glanced at the line of people still waiting outside. "Look at that. People are still lining up. We're the hottest spot in LA right now."
I nodded, feeling a sense of pride swell in my chest. "Yeah, we are."
We stood there for a moment, just taking it all in—the noise, the excitement, the smell of food wafting from the kitchen. It was everything we'd dreamed of and more.
Sasha turned to me, her grin fading slightly as she looked me in the eyes. "You did this, Tristan. You made this happen. I mean, sure, I helped, but this was your vision."
I smiled, feeling a rush of gratitude. "Nah, we both did this. I couldn't have done it without you."
She shook her head. "No, seriously. You had the guts to make this dream a reality. I'm proud of you, man."
I chuckled, feeling a little embarrassed. "Thanks, Sash. I'm proud of us."
We stood there for a few more minutes, soaking in the moment before heading back inside to face the chaos once again. It was a long day, but it was one of the best days of my life. The restaurant was a hit, and I knew that this was just the beginning of something huge.
***
That night, after the chaos and excitement of opening day had finally settled down, I found myself lying in bed next to Vanessa. The adrenaline was still coursing through me, and all I could think about was how the day had been a massive success. The restaurant had been packed from the moment we opened the doors until we finally closed. It was everything I had dreamed of and more.
Vanessa was lying beside me, her long black hair spread out across the pillow, and she was scrolling through something on her phone. I could see her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the screen, but she seemed distracted, even a bit distant. Normally, she would have been all over me, asking for every little detail about how things went. But tonight... something felt off.
"Vanessa," I said softly, turning on my side to face her. "I wanted to tell you... today was incredible. The restaurant was a fucking hit."
She looked up from her phone, giving me a soft smile. "That's amazing, Tristan. I knew you'd pull it off."
Her voice was warm, and her smile seemed genuine, but there was something in her eyes that didn't quite match. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I could feel it—the subtle tension in the air. I'd gotten to know Vanessa well enough by now to notice when something was bothering her.
"I mean, we had a line around the block," I continued, hoping to draw her in more. "People were raving about the food, and the social media posts blew up. Sasha was amazing, the staff was on point... I don't think we could have asked for a better first day."
Vanessa nodded, setting her phone down on the nightstand. "I'm really happy for you, Tristan. You've worked so hard for this."
I could hear the words, but something in her tone felt... off. Like she was holding something back. I shifted closer to her, studying her face.
"You don't sound happy," I said, keeping my voice gentle. "Are you sure everything's okay?"
Her smile faltered for a split second, but then she quickly recovered, her expression smoothing out into that sweet, understanding look she always gave me. "Of course I'm happy for you, darling. Why wouldn't I be?"
I frowned, not entirely convinced. "I don't know. You just seem... I don't know, distant? Is something bothering you?"
Vanessa sighed softly, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the bedspread. "No, Tristan. I'm genuinely happy for you. It's just... it's been a long day, that's all. You've had your big moment, and I'm proud of you."
Her words felt like a closed door. She wasn't giving me anything to work with, and I wasn't sure if I should push. Part of me wanted to dig deeper, to figure out what was really going on. But another part of me—the part that knew Vanessa could be unpredictable—told me to let it go.
I lay back down beside her, staring up at the ceiling. "Alright," I said quietly. "I just... I don't want you to feel left out, you know? You're a big part of this. I couldn't have done any of it without you."
She turned to face me, her dark eyes studying me for a moment. "I know, Tristan. And I'm glad I could help you get there. But this is your success. I don't need to be in the spotlight."
I frowned. "It's not about the spotlight. I just want you to know I appreciate everything you've done."
Vanessa smiled again, but it felt more like a reflex than anything genuine. "I know you do, darling. Now, stop worrying. You've had an amazing day. Let's just enjoy that."
I wanted to believe her, wanted to let go of the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. But something still didn't feel right. I didn't know if it was jealousy, if maybe she felt like I was pulling away, or if it was something else entirely. But whatever it was, she wasn't letting me in on it. And maybe I wasn't ready to push too hard.
I sighed, pulling the covers up over my chest. "Alright. I won't push. But if something's bothering you... you can tell me."
Vanessa rolled over onto her side, facing away from me, her long hair spilling over the pillows. "There's nothing to tell, Tristan. I'm just tired. Let's go to sleep."
The way she said it made it clear the conversation was over, at least for tonight. I stared at the back of her head for a moment, feeling a strange sense of unease. Vanessa was always in control, always knew exactly what to say, how to act. But tonight, there was something hidden behind her words, something she wasn't sharing with me. And it left me feeling unsettled.
"Alright," I said softly. "Goodnight, Vanessa."
She didn't respond right away, but after a moment, she murmured, "Goodnight, Tristan."
I lay there in the dark, the silence stretching between us. I should have been ecstatic, should have been riding the high of the restaurant's success. But instead, all I could think about was the distance between us, the feeling that something was slipping away.
I closed my eyes, trying to push the thoughts away. There'd be time to figure it out later, time to talk to Vanessa when she wasn't so tired, when things weren't so raw. But tonight, all I could do was lie there and hope that whatever was bothering her, it wouldn't grow into something bigger.
I didn't sleep well that night. My mind kept circling back to the same question: What was really going on in Vanessa's head? And why didn't she want to tell me?
Q: What is your favorite type of food?