F O L L Y

Oh no, it was Kellan. Before Marty had gotten hurt, he’d helped run Kellan interference whenever he was on shift with her but now that she had to cover all of Marty’s things too she had no one watching her six. Well, not true. Kellan was certainly watching her six but she kind of wished he wouldn’t. At least he was only a bit over-eager.

She did feel bad, he was a nice man. He had a kind smile and nice muscles and would probably make a very attentive boyfriend. For someone who actually liked guys. That would be a good place for him to start. How did she break it to him she’d never had to let someone down easily before. He was a customer after all.

“Thank you, Kellan.” She said. Oh now she’d have to read this book. He’d ask her about it later he definitely would. “We are a drug-free zone, so that part goes without saying. I’m taking over much of Marty’s schedule for the time being, yes. I assume you’ll be there?”

Kellan grinned at her, “yeah, of course. I figure you’re one of the best trainers here so you probably read up on all this stuff anyway. But it was an easy read so –– I mean, not that you’d need an easy read. You could definitely handle a hard read too...I mean, you know what I mean. Anyway,” he was glad she was still listening to him ramble, he sounded like he didn’t know how to stop talking. But she was still there which meant she probably didn’t mind. He still wasn’t really noticing the slow-moving line of people leaving the space, blocking her way. 

Madelaine could only let out a small, warbling groan as she heard her uncle call out for her attention. God, she’d been so close to freedom, and to have it so cruelly spoiled at the last possible moment was nothing short of agonizing. “First, you need to stop calling it ‘The Gram.’ No one, and I mean no one calls it that,” she chimed aloud, blonde head tilting to the side as she slowly appraised the rather extra looking pancake picture that’d been all but shoved in her face as she came forward, and tried her absolute hardest to ignore everything else that came out of his mouth as he went on and on about filters and angles and things. 

Now, don’t get her wrong. It wasn’t that she hated her uncle by any means. No, it was more along the lines that she just didn’t know him, nor did she know how to react around him 90% of the time. Not only had he come into her life late ( and that was an understatement if there ever was one ) but he was also only 9 years her senior, which was rather jarring. Honestly, he felt less like a relative, and more like an awkward family friend or something, as shitty as that might have sounded. And considering everything that’d been going on with her father since they’d gotten to Grimmbrook, family as a whole was an odd subject for her in general at the moment. “Hey, if you really want to make people eat breakfast, you’ve got to entice them toward it with something they really want. You know, a vice. Weed, for perfect instance, makes people hungry as hell. Then there are mimosas, which are always a hot topic for swanky brunch alcoholic crows, or of course, there’s always the draw of anything being offered for free.” The bridge of Madeleine’s nose wrinkled as she kept getting asked questions, and ones she really didn’t care to answer. “No offense, Uncle K, but I really don’t think people are going to care either way. If anything, it’ll be looked at for two seconds tops before it goes and zips out of their minds as they carry on with their days.” A pause. “And no. No one says emo anymore.” 

“Not even ironically?” he waggled a brow, “because I’ve definitely heard some of my influencers use it and if you’re saying no one says it seriously, then it’s gotta be a joke....what about IG –– that’s better?” Maybe it was because he missed his younger siblings or because he’d never been that close to Keith but Kellan wanted to be friends with Madelaine. His family had been estranged for a while now and he having come to Grimmbrook a few months ago, he’d felt oddly like a part of him had been restored in some way. Maybe a part of himself he hadn’t quite realized was missing. “Okay but posting weed to my IG story probably wouldn’t be good for business. Even if it is legal. I don’t wanna hurt my following.

“But,” he frowned, taking back his phone to inspect the photo and then the pancakes on the plate and then back at Mads, “do you think it’d help? I don’t exactly recommend weed for breakfast either. Maybe as a garnishing, unless you’re gonna cook it in. Which you could. I mean, do you got any? I can make some weed pancakes if you want. If that’s the cool thing to do. What would I tag that?” He was already moving the plate he’d set up, pushing it into Madelaine’s hands absentmindedly as he went back to the kitchen counter, setting the phone down. 

lena was excited that it seemed somebody was going to take her up on her offer. “oh they’re like just a little gesture of goodwill to the town.. with everything that’s going on i figured that i would try to do something nice.” she explains. “obviously i’ll try to donate to any of the fundraisers that i can, but this was something that i could do with my own hands.” her eyes widen noticeably when he mentions drugs, and she looses the colour from her face. did people really think that she was like dolores? she’d really thought that she was starting to lose the label of ‘the poison girl’. she bites her lip hard, she’s not exactly sure how she ended up so close to tears. but there’s something about the idea that someone would think she would put drugs in cupcakes that she’d handed out to children that made her feel sick to her stomach. “no.. they’re just cupcakes.. i wouldn’t.” she starts, but the lump in her throat means it’s hard for her to talk. “i don’t know what you’ve heard about me but..i would never put something in them.”

Kellan raised a brow at her words, not really registering the change in her demeanor as significant. “Heard about you?” He scrunched his forehead, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to place her and nope, no recollection. “I mean, you’re just randomly selling cupcakes for free...so I guess not even selling...but yeah, I haven’t heard anything....should I be concerned?” Raking a hand through his hair, he gave a haphazard smile, “besides, wouldn’t it be weirding if I didn’t ask? Like...who takes random food from strangers ya know? 

He was late, as usual, so what else was new? Che didn’t really plan to ever be late, but things always happened and one way or another ( like dominos falling on top of each other ), the brunette found himself running towards the building. The royal flush, all grand in its appearance and decor … and there he was, sneaking through all the hallways and trying to dodge raising any suspicions from the guests. If only they knew he worked for this place, then maybe they would’ve eased up a little … or not. Rich people seemed like a whole other breed of human. He would’ve known, he dated Druscilla for a hot second once. 

Of course, none of his fast paced scurry prevented him from getting caught. “Whoa, me, complain? Never,” Che reassured, trying to calm down the adrenaline that rushed through his system. Being late was already a gamble, being late while working for Farishka? Well, he was practically playing with life or death here. 

“Just don’t tell Farishka I’m about to clock in a few minutes late.” 

Che reminded Kellan a bit of himself when has younger. Though, less handsome and generally less impressive. But still, they were similar enough –- and the verbal vomit was familiar. “Chill out, Padilla –– I’m not your boss,” he held up his hands with a grin, “and I’m not gonna narc on you to Farishka. Just grab her some food and say you were getting her coffee or some BS. Proactive shit. Bosses like that bs. C’mon man,” he indicated for Che to follow him back to the kitchen, “how’s she take her coffee? You’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure.” 

Isabel was on her way home from the boutique when she offered to drop off a purchased item for a shopper who was unable to pick it up due to her frantic work schedule and children. Despite all the weird occurrence happening in the town, Cynthia and her wife finally booked out sometime for a date night and she ran into the Rose Petal two days ago frantically looking for something nice to wear. Fortunately, her size was out of stock and they just had gotten a new shipment in today. Isabel had promised it would be of no effort for her to drop it off. Cynthia had given her a mini layout of instructions to drop the item off in the employee locker room, yet somehow as she was navigating through the Royal Flush she somehow ended up towards the kitchen. 

She was startled by the voice of another, looking up from her phone with the dress underneath her arm. “Sorry,” she said halting as she looked at the man in his uniform. Isabel normally was not directionally challenged, yet somehow she had found her way in the kitchen. Maybe it was her senses misguiding her, considering she had half a lunch today and only an apple for breakfast. Her stomach loudly growling simply confirmed that she needed to get something in her rather soon. “Umm…if you could just show me where the employee locker room is that’d be great and I’ll be out of your hair and on my way.” The last thing she meant to do was be an inconvenience to anybody, let alone someone who was on the clock. At the mention of her outfit, she looked down not even realizing who it was by. It was just one of many gifts that Casper had given her over their time together. “Sure, I guess…” she chuckled. “My boyfriend was the one who picked it out and I liked the color, so hence it’s one me.” When it came to her boutique she was more invested in the curation of local and small designers than bringing in the big brand names. “No complaints. Just dropping this off for Cynthia is all, I promise.”

Wow, she was pretty. But he thought he recognized her from the floor when he’d been out there. On the arm of what’s his name? He mentally snapped his fingers to recall – Casper. Shit. That bastard. yeah, she was pretty but not pretty enough to deal with that fucking beast of a man. He’d heard rumors of the Du Pont and he didn’t wanna get on his bad side. He was already on enough people’s bad side. Hell, that’s why he was in town. He’d gotten on the wrong bad side of just the right person to make his life a living hell in Boston. So much so he had to skip town. Yeah, not about to do that again. “Are you looking for someone in particular? I can tell you if they’re on the floor or on break.” 

While Poppy spent a great deal of time at The Royal Flush, but, typically, the kitchens were not among her haunts. The floor, a few back rooms, the boss’ office, sure, but she didn’t usually have a reason to walk these halls. However, she also didn’t usually get asked to cover a shift on a day she was supposed to do her other job.

Given the situation, once finished with her shift, cooking for herself seemed like just about the last thing she wanted to do. Sure, she could go elsewhere, but why should she? 

Well, maybe one good reason would have Kellan’s greeting. As he went on about her clothes, she just coolly watched him, waiting for him to stop talking, but the cheeky follow up, made her roll her eyes and give him a withering look. 

“I have to start a cook tonight,” she returned, perfectly casually about their anything but legal shared business, “I figured I’d try doing it with some real food in my system since I get yelled at for going straight to a sugar high and energy drinks.” 

She couldn’t exactly fault the lectures when she opted to go that way, though. There was a happy medium between under-energized and over and nothing else was acceptable; when she overshot her hands shook too badly to do it safely and missing the mark meant she was tired enough to make stupid mistakes. Still, finding the sweet spot made it more fun, not that fun was the point by any means. 

“C’mon Kellan, you know the boss would tell you to make me something.” Actually, she wasn’t so sure that would be the case, but it sounded good, didn’t it?

Kellan made a face, “the fact that you call that cooking is somehow both a compliment and insulting to my many years slaving away as a kitchen bitch,” he said with a snicker. He liked Poppy – she was pretty straightforward and a friend of Madelaine’s, at least that’s what he gathered with his superb observation skills. So that made her not too shabby in his book. And she helped bring in the dough, like, the real money kind, and he liked the real money kind. Though he also liked the actual dough kind. Maybe he’d bake some bread tomorrow. He tucked the thought away and pushed off the wall with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You know it’s not that hard to eat before getting to work? This is like...the fourth meal this week? You’re gonna have to take on some kitchen duties if you want more. Only my fellow kitchen bitches get free meals.” 

Luke made it a personal goal of his to never enter the Royal Flush if he could help it. When it’d been owned by Montgomery, he’d gone there a time or two with Sam, or without, to meet and go over jobs. But since Farishka took it over, he’d avoided it as best he could. As entrenched as the Masons were with the underground of the town, they had learned early on to survive by being good at what they did, and staying out of the cross-hair of the major players. One wrong move, and misplaced trust, had ruined all of that and they’d been paying for it since, but Luke was surviving, they all were. And here he was, in one of the last places he ever really wanted to be, holding a bouquet of flowers and wondering just who the hell this guy was. 

He obviously liked to talk, that was plain enough to see, and from the chef’s jacket he was wearing, Luke could guess what his job was. That didn’t explain why he though Luke was wearing any of that fancy shit, but the guy could also be making fun of Luke’s threadbare clothes. He waited until the slew of words seemed to have reaction their end, and sent the vase of flowers, nestled in his arms, a pointed look, “I’m here to make a delivery. Must’ve gotten turned around, searching for reception.”

“You know, last I checked –– this wasn’t the coat room. Or the main room, or the bathroom or the any room.” Because it wasn’t. Kellan was leaning against a wall in his full-white chef’s uniform attire, scrolling through his insta to see if he’d gotten anymore likes on the pancake picture when he saw someone coming down the hall who looked more than a little lost. Mostly because this wasn’t a main hall for guests of the Royal Flush, it was hard to stumble into but...who knew, maybe they’d had a bit to drink or really had gotten turned around. 

“Hey, Mads, c’mere real quick,” Kellan was glad he caught his niece before she headed out the door, “what do you think of this for the gram? I’m putting it on my IG story,” he said, holding up his phone to show her a picture of the pancakes he’d made that morning. “There’s extra on the stove, still warm. You know breakfast’s the most important meal of the day? I mean, us millennials tend to forget that but I’m trying to bring it back and this,” he gestured at his phone, still extended to her, “is how we do it.” 

It’s not been the best week for Grimmbrook and Lena doesn’t really know what to do about that anymore, it feels like a lot of weeks aren’t the best week in Grimmbrook. So instead of just worrying at home the blonde bakes up a batch of cupcakes (x), and sets up a little stall outside her store.

“Good afternoon can I interest you in a free cupcake? No purchase necessary… though obviously we’d appreciate it!”

“Cupcake?” Kellan had walked past the stand and then walked five steps back, pulling the coffee cup from his lips as he blinked at the blonde, “for free? Why? I mean, yes, but also por que?” He loved cupcakes. He could bake some but he wasn’t a baker. It was a different skillset really, though it overlapped with cooking enough that he got by. Still, when someone was offering a free fucking cupcake, you didn’t have to ask him twice. “What kinds you got? These aren’t like laced with anything?” 

“Maggie, I got you this,” Kellan raked some hair back, glad he managed to catch Maggie before she headed out after their class. She looked like she’d been in a hurry but he knew she always had time for him. Why else would she have stopped to talk to him? He didn’t notice the line of people making their way out the door who’d essentially blocked her path. “I meant to give it to you last class but you seemed like you were in a rush somewhere. I read it and thought you’d appreciate it.” He extended the copy of Bigger Leaner Stronger to her with a grin. 

Hey folks! So I am officially giving up on anything fancy for an intro like in the past because I’m now a lazy mofo so here’s Kellan’s quick and dirty overview – lmk if you wanna plot.it.up!