Therefore I am

Eureka Pride March || @eureka-starters​​

For someone who allowed himself to be lead by his emotions as much as he did, it was something of a miracle he didn’t end up in more difficult situations. Or perhaps the miracle was that he somehow managed get himself out of the ones that he did find himself in. It was no surprise that in his eagerness to celebrate pride he’d gotten swept up in the crowds and split off from his friends. The realisation had only hit him when he’d turned to make a joke and noticed that they were no where to be found. With the battery on his phone already running low (predictably he’d forgotten to charge it the night before) he tried to call, only to find himself battling with the noise around him. “No, I’m not by the fountain. Not the fountain.” Voice was raised as he tried to speak clearly enough that his message would carry. “I’m by the -” Before his location could be given the phone went day and he was greeted by a familiar black screen. But he’d never been one to feel much frustration or let himself feel defeated and so he instead chose to turn to the person nearest to him, easy grin on his features as he prepared to insert himself into their day. “Some turn out, right?”

it was madness, but in the best of ways. Noah looked around, then back at her sous-chef, and grinned. While he wasn’t going to label himself one way or another, he was happy to agree that he was curious by nature, not to mention happy to explore and experience - he had had the odd encounter before, and enjoyed it, so it was all the more reason to support his openly queer friends and soaking in the atmosphere, too, while at it. Handing over a drink he had fished out of his seemingly infinite messenger bag, he was distracted by a voice nearby. He couldn’t quite make out the words, but he could find the source of the voice above the general noise, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Who would try to call anyone in this mayhem? There was music thumping and pinging off the buildings’ walls, there was singing and shouting, and general happy noises all around. Had the guy never been to a festival before? Texting was the way to go - there was no way the person on the other hand had understood anymore than him, standing a metre or two away. “It is,” Noah replied with a nod, and a quick look around, scanning the crowd, before he made sure his pint-sized friend wouldn’t get lost in the shuffle. But she was enjoying herself with her girlfriend close-by, and they didn’t look like they were going anywhere. “Did you manage to get through to your friend?” At least that was what he assumed what he had done. But the phone’s screen was blank, so perhaps not. “Sometimes, I try getting lost on purpose in a crowd, you never know who you could meet.” Then he grinned again, and held out his still unopened drink to him. “A little cocktail? Made them myself at my place earlier.”

TASK FIVE – GETTING TO KNOW YOU

Jacob could tell that Noah was in over his head. It was kind of cute, to be honest. Like when you try to explain to your grandma what a podcast is or how people make money on YouTube. Noah was intrigued though, and he seemed eager to take information on board, which was honestly what mattered the most. If someone was dismissive and rude about it, he lost interest in teaching them.

“I love when you say mate,” he laughed, but it was an endearing sort of laugh, not the type that said he was making fun of Noah. “You’ll get the hang of it. Honestly, I kind of figured out a lot of it as I went. When I first started I was terrible, but you just learn more as you go. And it kind of helps that I went to school for tech stuff.” He led Noah inside, showing him around the living room and kitchen.

“I have a stream room, yeah. It’s my old bedroom, actually.” He grabbed himself a diet soda from the fridge, offering Noah a drink as well. “Here,” he gestured, leading Noah to a room upstairs. There were a few monitors set up, a nice desk, camera, mic, and all his other bits and pieces. The decor was mostly gaming related, some Funko pops, a couple plants, and his logo made of neon light. “It’s daytime right now but these are blackout curtains I can close, so the lighting and stuff looks better, but if I stream during the day I can mix it up.”

“It’s a bad habit, but... I’m half English, so it kinda works for me.” Noah gave a shrug, but with a complimentary grin. “It’s definitely better than saying “dude” all the time, which sounds just... wrong with this accent. See what I mean?“ He made a face, but then joined in Jacob’s laughter. “How did you get started anyway?” How did anyone get into streaming? Was that a thing that one just thought of one day? Or was there a transition? How did one decide on what to stream about? There were so many questions, and he wanted to fire them all at Jacob, but didn’t, since he didn’t want to overwhelm him, when he was basically helping his social media-challenged arse out in a big way. “Tech stuff?” he asked, eventually, eyebrows raised. “Are you secretly the new generation’s Elon Musk or something?” Just definitely without the unappealing personality that came with that guy.

Quietly thanking Jacob for the drink, he followed him through the house. “So, this was your old family home, and now you’re living here all by yourself?” The house itself was pretty nice already, but that room... Noah looked around with wide eyes. It looked like a tech lab had outsourced some of their fancy equipment right into this room. Along with loads of art and trinkets, some of which he actually recognised. He gave quiet thanks to friends like Fliss for his education in pop culture things. “So you stream in the dark? Or at least without the natural light, right?” It would make sense, if he did - less of a chance of odd shadows and light flares. “So, how does this all work?” The more he was learning, the more curious he was to know about it, and while he thought he might not get into it himself, he knew that he could surely use media like these to spread awareness of his craft and his restaurant, maybe.

&

“Galinhada,” Sonia repeated, trying to copy his inflection and the accent that seemed to roll so effortlessly off of his tongue. Cooking had always one of her grandfather’s, always whipping up some delicious concoction with a Puerto Rican or Guatemalan spin. Growing up in Eureka, Sonia didn’t have much connection with her family’s roots, but Manuel always tried to introduce certain concepts through what they ate and how they spoke. Her Spanish was rusty, though she was fluent, and she wasn’t really a great cook in her own right, but nevertheless she cherished what she’d had as a child even if it didn’t translate much to adulthood. “Because I’m afraid of change,” she teased, taking another bite, “and I have friends who are just so good at cooking that anything I make feels inadequate – but I’ll keep that in mind about the salt.”

Sonia nodded as Noah rattled off the ideas in his head, always ready to be a sound board even if her expertise didn’t quite contribute much. “Oooh, lettuce wraps burritos would be a great idea, especially as summer nears and people are trying to get fit. It tricks the mind into thinking the burritos are healthy,” she joked, rubbing her hands together as he brought the next dish over for her to try. “Passion fruit sauce?” the brunette questioned, though she couldn’t be very skeptical given the culinary genius that was Noah Kane. “Okay, now I have to try this.” Sonia wasted no time in grabbing her fork and delicately cutting into the salmon, swirling it around in some extra sauce that had poured over before popping it in her mouth – and immediately letting out a moan. “Seriously?” she mused, not even embarrassed about talking with her mouth full. “No, don’t change a single thing about this. It’s delicious. Why is it that you can’t come to the bed and breakfast and cook for me for every meal again?” 

Smiling, as he listened to her repeat the word, he busied himself with cleaning the utensils he had just used. Cleaning, in this case, was mostly placing them in the dishwasher, but it was a habit he had acquired early on. Always have a clean workplace, that had been ingrained in him, although as a child it had sounded more like “always keep a clean room”. “Love, it would just be a little chili, perhaps some parsley.” he teased Sonia, “or a little bit of cumin, if you feel frisky.” Bland food was just that, bland. In his eyes, food had to appeal to all human senses beyond just taste. It had to look amazing. The scent should have your mouth water as much as get your imagination going. The feel of the first bite should be smooth, or textured, and adding to the taste experience. And the sounds of the first bite had to want one crave more. But perhaps that was just him. His smile widened at her compliment. “You know you are always welcome here. You are basically my personal taste tester these days, which I appreciate a lot.” With an arch of an eyebrow, he added dryly, “Please see to it, your chicken will thank you abundantly, trust me on that. If you feel the need to salt your chicken, marinade it in soy sauce. You could use a little honey in that marinade, too, make it all a little more tangy.”

Gosh, once he started to talk about food, he could keep going all day. And night. And he might not know how to stop, either, he realised. But a quick look towards Sonia confirmed she hadn’t already fallen asleep by his explanations, luckily for him. “Burritos are healthy, more or less. It depends on what you put in there. But yes, salad wraps - I’ll put it right down.” Fishing for his black notebook, which was tucked away next to his favourite knives, he quickly jotted the idea down, all the while observing her out of the corner of his eye, and not just to see whether his new creation worked for her. She had an aura about her, which had him at ease from the first moment they had met. To him, it felt like was quiet strength, paired with kindness and an abundance of enthusiasm, he mused, but tore himself out of his thoughts, when he heard her mutter. “What’s the verdict, So’?” Her reply had him grin at her, and jot down the recipe in shorthand. If she thought it worthy to use, who was he to argue about that? “Ah, but I would have to give up on my job here, and... I’m not sure Isla would pay me for solely keeping you fed. Although the idea is tempting. You’re easy to please, and I would have loads of free time to experiment and find new recipes...” Noah tilted his head to the side for a moment in a mocking of day dreaming, and then grinned at her. “You’d be sick of me by the end of the week, though, I believe.”

—

“Honestly, I’ll probably even help myself to a cup,” his eyes were focused on the machine in front of him, watching as the liquid began its slow but steady drip. The new pot would be way better, especially since the shit sitting in it before had been there for a little while. Plus, Leland had been noticing that the hotplate had been burning whatever leftovers there were towards the bottom. And that’s the last thing anybody wanted to taste— old, burnt coffee. 

As that was doing its thing, Leland turned and allowed his back to lean up against the counter space. “A shipment?” A delay of anything wasn’t fun; especially on something as large as a shipment would entail. “I don’t mind at all, man— you’re giving me something to do on this damn shift, so stay for as long as you need to. Coffee will just keep pouring. Refills are free.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Lee nudged his head upwards before adding, “So, uh— What kinda shipment we talkin’ about here? What’s your job?” If Leland had to guess, he kind of looked like a dude that would work at a museum or something— and that was, in all forms, a compliment. 

Sitting back, Noah could feel himself relax for the first time this evening. Perhaps it was the prospect of a hot cup of coffee, or the fact that he now knew he wouldn’t have to sit on hot coals to wait on his shipment, which would still take a while. Or perhaps it was watching the man in front of him, who worked with practiced ease. It was something he could easily admire. Not that there was something wrong with fumbling about, it happened, of course, but knowing one’s way around your workplace made one’s movements so much more fluent and flowing. “Thanks for putting on a new pot, I really appreciate it,” Noah said eventually, “I might need most of it to not doze off right where I sit. It’s been a long day.”

“Are you sure, mate?” As the owner of a restaurant, he knew the cost involving coffee, and while not much, it didn’t seem like Rosie’s Diner would make much money from him tonight, if he were to drink the whole. “Thank you, really. I don’t mind paying for it, though. I am using your place, after all, to wait it out.” While he could have stayed at his restaurant, this seemed like the nicer alternative. Less work was waiting here. It was less lonely, too.

The question had him perk up and smile at Leland. “I’m waiting for boxes of fresh seafood,” he replied, “I wanted to use it in tomorrow’s menu. Luckily for me, they come delivered on dry ice, so they should be good, even with this delay.” If not, he would have to get up early to get to the fish market and find something he could work with on the fly. Put off, he made a slight face and promptly banished the thought. “I’m a chef, I own my own place.” Waving his hand vaguely in the direction of where the Beijinho Doce was, he added, “it’s just down the road, actually.” A proud smile flitted over his face; even a year after opening the doors for the first time, he still marvelled that he had achieved his dream, and all of his own on top of it all. “What about you? What do you do at Rosie’s? Apart from waiting on blokes like me desperate for a coffee fix.“

​While trying to dodge yet another rapidly approaching person on the pavement, Noah’s sudden jerk to the side almost made him spill the contents of the mug he was carrying in one hand. Luckily for him, he hadn’t dropped the container he was carrying underneath the other arm, that would have been a shame. He had used most of the morning to try out new recipes, and fed most of it to his staff, who replied mostly positively to what he had cooked up. Who knew that honey glazed peach slices and salmon sashimi worked for people? It had made the list of what he would put on his menu tonight, along with some other treats, which had left him with all kinds of satisfied. So much so that he had used the leftovers from his cooking to make a few paninis, which were now resting in the box he was carrying swiftly down the block. Cleaning had taken a minute, but not as long as to miss out on the clock’s chiming which indicated it was the perfect time to make a visit.

The Comic Shop was less busy than he had expected, as he slipped in through the door, with just a few people milling about, pursuing the shelves of comics and other comic-related goods. Noah, being as tall as he was, easily spotted his target further at the back, and made a beeline towards her. He cleared his thoat amusedly. “Miss, could I per chance acquire your attention for a little while? I need your expertise,” he told her, a smile tugging at the corner’s of her mouth, when their eyes met. It was always nice to see a friendly face, but Fliss was one of his favourite people, by far. “With these, I mean.” He wiggled the travel mug, as well as the food container, in front of her face. “What do you say?”

One of his major motivations for his career choice was to ensure that all his students knew that they had options in the world. If he were being honest with himself - and he always tried to be - he knew a large part of it was so that no one would be forced into the position that he was. No teens under his care would be left feeling as though they had no choice but to walk a path that they had never wanted to take. That they had had to make the best of a bad situation and for all he knew he’d come through his own, it had taken some doing and he only wished for an easier ride for his students. He wanted them to feel prepared for adulthood and arm them with as many skills and experiences as he could before they graduated. It was why he’d begun running financial literacy class after school that he’d dubbed Money 101 and feeling encouraged by the uptake he had decided to branch out and offer them more insight into the world that was waiting for them all after high school.

While he knew he could be considered a man of many talents, he had never been vain enough to think that he was experience enough in a wide enough variety to give them all the information that he wanted to. So his attention had turned to local businesses, reaching out to see if any of them would consider speaking to his students. One of the many he had reached out to was the owner of Beijinho Doce and he was pleased when their phone call had led to him being invited down to the restaurant so that they could talk things over. As he walked in he made his way over to the man in question. “Noah Kane?” Hand was held out for the other man to shake, a firm gesture that came easily to him. “Nate Hudson, thanks for making time for me” He knew how precious he considered his own time and so he was grateful that the restaurateur had set his aside to further their discussion.  

@noahtkane​

Noah had been as surprised as he had been pleased as punch, that Nate had called him one day to arrange a meeting. Whenever people gained knowledge of his father’s name, they almost all assumed the same - that he had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, spoiled and coddled all throughout his life, with more money than he knew what to do with. The truth was that Noah had been born to a single mother, who had fallen pregnant due to an affair with a known director, and who had eventually had enough of motherhood. So much so that he had left him at his father’s doorstep, with a note attached. It wasn’t that his father hadn’t taken care of him, far from it. His wealth and his resources had given Noah a nanny, an excellent education and all the means to succeed in the world; all that, however, without much emotional effort on his father’s part. So while he had had it all, so to speak, he had been missing quite a bit, still. His parents’ love. A way to connect to his much older half-siblings. His father’s approval. In the end, he had found his place in the world, and with it came his resolve to use his trust fund to finance his first forray into the culinary world, which, in turn, had funded his current restaurant, the Beijinho Doce. As odd as it might sound, Noah was grateful in a way, because his parents’ neglect had pushed him to thrive for utter self-reliability and financial independence, not to mention that they had proven to him that family wasn’t necessarily blood-related only.

As the sounds of the front door opening rang throughout the empty room, Noah looked up from behind the bar, where he was polishing the last of the wine glasses for the upcoming evening crowd. “That would be me,” he replied with a smile, as he took the offered and shook it. “Of course! I told you on the phone that I’d like to participate, if you thought me a good fit.” Pointing towards the bar stools, he added, “Please, sit down. Would you like a drink? Coffee perhaps?” As usual, he had made a thermos of coffee to last him throughout the afternoon, but he wasn’t opposed to sharing it with Nate, if he were to accept. “Could you tell me a little about your extracurricular? From your earlier explanation on the phone, Money 101 sounds like a class that was sorely lacking at my school. How did you get involved?”

“Exactly,” she agreed, relieved the stranger understood what she was saying and didn’t fnd her need for downtime odd. At his compliment, Annie smiled a small, abashed grin, slightly flustered by the notion that Benji might be the lucky one when she, in fact, often felt like she’d won the lottery when it came to partners. She nodded as he spoke of her possible career transition, appreciative that he seemed to infer exactly what she was looking for with the expansion of her skillset without having to explain it. “I used to hold a lot of excitement when I was just out of undergrad and taking on clients, but the longer I worked to build my portfolio, the more I realized I’d sort of lost some of that magic. I’m looking forward to being able to take on bigger clients and have a bit more responsibility and feel that…spark, or whatever, again, you know? It’s so important to feel passionate about what you’re doing, especially in fields like ours,” she gestured between the two of them as if to display an invisible link between their chosen careers. “I think it’s so inspiring that you decided to take such a risk and that it’s paid off so well for you,” she said with great admiration. “It’s clearly a testament to how talented you are that the restaurant has taken off the way it has.” At his invitation to cook for she and Benji, she laughed. “You don’t know me well enough to know that you shouldn’t joke about offering food to me,” she said with a grin. “Which, speaking of,” Annie stood, then, reaching across the table with an outstretched hand for the man to shake. “I’m Annie.”

–

“Oh I completely agree. Especially the functions that my family thinks are…family functions. If I know anything about my sister, it’s that this will be an extravagant affair.” It was a matter of the social circle that she knew her sister ran in too. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was almost unheard of to even plan a function outside of that elusive circle. “Well, according to all the hip parenting blogs and probably GOOP herself, they probably need to be extra stylish and have a name that…is definitely not common.” She was thankful that when Heidi had her children, they stuck with a theme that would separate them but they definitely weren’t names that weren’t going to have three or four in the classroom any time soon. “Get the right amount of drinks in me, I’m sure I have plenty more. Not as fun as this one but some can be juicy.” Harper opened the box and took one of the treats out, turning it around in her hands before taking a bit out of it. “Thwis is weally good” she said, not bothering to finish what she had eaten before giving out the compliment. “So good.” Harper eyed the snakes again before turning towards the coffee cup. “No because I worry there might be a coffee snob in the form of a five year old. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle that.”

As much as he tried, he couldn’t quite keep the eye roll hidden at the mention of an extravagant affair. If he had a penny for every time someone in his father’s social circle would call a party of theirs extravagant, he would probably own more than one restaurant by now. “GOOP - I actually know what that is, but don’t you think that it sounds...” Noah made a little face, before he began to chuckle. “- Sticky? I’m not sure why you’d want to call your lifestyle brand that...” Giving a mock shudder, he made another face, this time more amused than anything. “Let’s hope your poor niece or nephew won’t be given a name they’ll resent their parents for for the rest of their lives.” He couldn’t help but observe Harper, who was eyeing the box, but then went on to eat one of the treats. It was funny how one could easily see on a person’s face whether something was to their taste or not, when you knew what to look for. Noah smiled broadly at the compliment, and gave her a little nod. “I’m glad you think so. Keep them. If all else fails, at least you’ll have something to enjoy throughout the whole extravaganza ordeal.” His eyes found the plush coffee cup once again, which seemed like the obvious choice to him. And yet he could understand Harper’s reasoning for not thinking along the same lines. “You might be right about that - no five year-old should know more about coffee than the adults around them,” he conceded with a smile. “So, what will you do now? Go back to the snakes? You could buy a few, put them in a box, and make a snake pit out of them.” His ideas were ridiculous, he knew as much, but if they kept her entertained, he didn’t mind making somewhat of a fool out of himself. “But speaking of coffee, would you perhaps like one? There’s a café right around the corner...”

⁂

“Talk about a scene you don’t really want to be part of,” Jason muttered, trying to keep from laughing. Sure it was embarrassing if you were the one making that particular mistake, but otherwise? Yeah, it definitely made a good story. “I hope your friend doesn’t mind you telling that story … not that she should really expect anything else, with that kind of slip, but, still.” If he’d been in a similar situation with any of his friends, he likely wouldn’t act as if it had never happened … but he would restrict retellings to those who’d been present for the event itself, if asked. 

“Well, maybe next time I come in, it’ll be your round, and I can give you a real vote on the matter. For whatever it’s worth, anyway.” He might be a fellow creative, but clearly, he wasn’t an expert when it came to culinary matters. “But, yeah, sounds good. And thanks.” He stuffed an appropriate number of twenty dollar bills in with his check, a few extra for a generous tip, and stood, grinning. “I’m not making any promises, but if I do find someone … I will send them your way, of course.” And with that, Jason headed out, glad for the impulse decision that had brought him there, with good food, and conversation, too.

THE END.

—

“A business empire. He’s a business tycoon back in New York City. Michael Gonzales is a big name in the business world. Usually why I don’t mention him when I talk to people.” she shrugged. Kiara hated mentioning her parents, both were big names. Her mom? not so much anymore. Giselle Gonzales was a model back in the 80s and early 90s, so she wasn’t really relevant anymore. She thought about his question, and shrugged. “Never really gave it much thought. Maybe some publishing empire. Or a fashion one.” she laughed a little. “Well, if you’ve got some time….maybe follow me.” the raven haired girl said, grabbing his shirt, forgetting about the snack.

At the mention of her father’s name, Noah kept a neutral expression on his face, mostly not to reveal that the name told him absolutely nothing. “I get that - my father’s a director, but not much of a father, and really -,” he replied instead, “those aren’t our accomplishments, they’re theirs and therefore only marginally interesting. I’d rather know about you.” He had grown up in a world where name dropping was part of the basic agenda, but he had never cared for any of that. Instead, he had gone on to make a name for himself. “Ah, so you’re keeping your options open for now?” Looking her over for a moment, Noah smiled at her. “I believe you can do anything you set your mind to, Ki. That’s the beauty of unbridled potential.” His grin widened. “Either way, I can see you coming out on top, love.” His eyebrow rose almost out of its own volition, but he didn’t falter in his step, and let her pull him along. If she wasn’t interested in food, he was certain they could find other ways to keep themselves entertained.

where:  beijinho doce, after hours who: @noahtkane​ & sonia rosales

One of the greatest things about coming out of hardship and into a more stable lifestyle was the ability to form healthy, lasting friendships – something that Sonia had long struggled with since childhood. Noah and she had only been friends for a short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but they’d bonded fast, his love and passion for his craft absolutely contagious and awe-inspiring – and it didn’t hurt that she got to experience that craft first hand, taking him up on being a taste tester whenever he needed (and whenever he would let her invade his kitchen).

“Okay, wait, what is the one on the right called again?” she asked, mouth half full as she leaned over three plates, each holding separate delicious concoctions. “I like the spice in this one, though that may be the Latina in me craving something other than the salt and pepper chicken I make on any given weeknight.” Sonia blushed lightly, her own cooking skill incomparable to Noah’s. “I don’t think you can make me choose which I like best, though. I think you should just put them all on the menu.”

"A galinhada,” Noah replied easily, without looking up - he was still focused on putting the finishing touches on hearts of palm salad he was going to serve in little oven-baked plaintain bowls as a special starter tonight. They were still a few hours away from the evening opening hours, and he was happy not to be spending the time in the kitchen all by himself. “Why don’t you add more spices to your salt and pepper chicken, love? Or leave the salt, since it dries the chicken beyond saving.” Returning from setting the salad in the walk-in fridge, he came to sit next to her. He had another bowl in his hands, one filled with left-over champagne brigadeiros from last night. Unfortunately, he couldn’t serve them to sell anymore, but perhaps they could eat them, after she had finished taste-testing the dishes he had prepared. 

“I’m just thinking of different ways to minimise food waste - and stews, like the one on the left, or rise dishes, like the galinhada are some of them. I was also thinking of wrapping some like burritos, perhaps in salad leaves?” These weren’t dishes he would necessarily put on his menu, since they weren’t as much fusion kitchen as they were homemade food you would get in many households around Brazil. What he wanted to do, or intended to, at least, was to put them together, pack them up and take them to shelters, so that people, who wouldn’t be able to afford his food, could enjoy a warm meal at no charge. “Now the pan-fried salmon with its passion fruit sauce -” He looked from the plate towards his friend and back. “Do you know how this one came to be? I had prepared the sauce for a dessert, but because I wasn’t paying attention I picked it up instead of the coconut capers sauce.” Noah laughed at his own misstep. “It kinda works, though, doesn’t it? Even if it’s not that spicy. Although I could put in some chili flakes for you, if you want.”