#blue kitchen

"Listen here, we've now been waiting two hours, we've gotten no food whatsoever and you're still telling me just 'to wait a little longer'? Do you not get how pathetic that is?"

"Sir, I totally understand that your patience is at it's end, but I'm sure, that if you'll wait a few more minutes the food will be served", sooner or later, you would have liked to add, which would have probably riled him up even more.

Like that it went back and forth over the last thirty minutes, him asking how long they'd still have to wait and you trying to give them a heads up, that it would be out in a few minutes. And now he'd had enough, not wanting to let go, until you could actually give them their food. Though hearing the chef shout through the kitchen, that the appetizer still wasn't good, you weren't too hopeful.

"Do you not see how hungry our children are? We want that food and that better be 'in a few minutes'." You really didn't know what else to say as you gazed around the table. You wished someone could-

"Everything allright here?", oh, how you had wished to hear that voice the last ten minutes! He must had noticed that you hadn't moved from the same spot for too long. Jean-Philippe had, in your eyes at least, come to your rescue.

"Nothing's alright, we've been waiting for at least two and a half hours now and haven't gotten anything! How do you think we are Mister?", said the now fuming father. "What kind of place is this that you can't even bring us food?"

"I understand, but as you may hear, the kitchen isn't having an easy time either.", in the calmest voice anyone could have mustered, he gave the family a light smile, while you stepped back a bit trying to quietly disintegrate into the background.

"Well as you may have heard, I don't care about the joyride they're having back there, all I care about is if we get our food. So get your pathetic waitress over there, so she can send us our food.", as time ticked by, you wanted to be swallowed by the ground, while the maître d' reasoned with the man. It had been extremely uncomfortable arguing with him on your own, but right now it had gotten even more painful, as you were now watching the argument. And having to watch poor Jean-Philippe dealing with him, was even worse.

He had been one of your favourite colleagues overall since you had started working at Hell's Kitchen as a waitress, having always been there if you had a question or difficulties with something or in this case someone.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but as of right now I cannot do anything to make the kitchen speed up. It is not in my hands and I am terribly sorry but I can only tell you that if you have a little more patience that-", as Jean-Philippe was about to continue, you heard the final words chef Ramsay shouts when he's had enough,

"SHUT IT DOWN! Jean-Philippe!"

"Please, do excuse me...", at that the belgian maître d' took long strides to the pass, where, as you assumed, chef Ramsay told him that there would be no more food coming out of both kitchens. While not even a second later the father continued.

"Hey, excuse me, is it still possible to get something to eat here?", now you had to face the man again, on your own without help.

"Sir, I am terribly sorry but you have to understand that there are times, where the kitchen falls behind...", you slowly started, trying to keep your eye out for any good sign of Jean-Philippe. A sign, and a good one, which told you that there is still hope for the guests food. This however didn't come, and in return meant you had to muster up a lot of courage.

You actually quite liked your job as a server, the only thing you didn't like about your job was disappointing customers.

"And?"

"Sir, again I am sorry, but I don't believe you'll get food out of Hell's Kitchen tonight..." You tried to brace yourself for the anger that would be directed at you.

"Oh really?! What a surprising turn of events! And you couldn't have told us earlier? What kind of place is this? Keeping us waiting for food we don't get? Don't you see that we're here with children? They were hungry and now starved!", you really were sorry, but you couldn't do much, nothing at that matter.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but as of right now the kitchen is closed so there won't be coming any food out anymore...", you stood there, almost ready to cry, overwhelmed by his and the other customers fury. The father had stressed you for so long now and him now being angrier than ever before, didn't help the situation.

"Yeah, yeah, keep your bullshit.", with that you weakly retreated and the family got up from their seats readying to leave the restaurant.

As all the guests left, you busied to your side work, cleared the tables off the plates, silverware and the remaining glasses and decorations. All you had wanted was to finally go home and rest. A lot of guests had those experiences in Hell's Kitchen, getting next to no food, and being angry and frustrated, but that family had put a lot of pressure on you. And that was all you could think about now, how furious that man had spoken to you. Also the remarks he made. Pathetic. Especially that clung, rubbing you the wrong way.

"(y/n)? Are you alright?", there he was again, Jean-Philippe, striding up behind you.

"Oh, yes, sure!", you replied, trying to mask your uneasiness with a light smile, giving him a reason to believe you.

"Well, you don't look so happy... Are you really alright? You seem quite tense.", he formed a light smile, but kept a frown on his face not believing you at all. Damn him, for seeing right through you.

"I, ehm, well you know the table with the family with the upset father?"

"Which one? There were quite a few tables.", he replied, earning a chuckle from you.

"But yes, I know which one you mean.", he had now moved to stand beside you, scribbling down on a notepad, which items needed to be restocked, while you stood and polished silverware.

"Yeah, that just put me really down.", holding up a knife into the light looking for any traces of smudges, and laying it down into the silverware tray, getting another smudged knife out and starting to polish it.

"Well, I think you handled it well. You stood your ground and still tried tending to their needs.", you appreciated his encouragement. It gave you a warm feeling, realising that he actually noticed how you'd stood and aided to their needs.

"You think so? At one point I thought he would throw his glass of wine at me.", you asked, earning a chuckle from him.

"Yes, he sure was angry. But no I actually don't think so, I know. I think you do great.", this caused you look at him smiling and catching his gaze.

"That's really sweet, Jean-Philippe, thank you."

"Pas de quoi, chérié. You know if you want, you can already get ready, I'll finish the rest.", now this suggestion suprised you, usually Jean-Philippe made sure everyone did their side work precisely and now he decided you could go early?

"Are you sure? I could still help, I don't think there isn't much left.", you actually would've liked to stay a bit more, times like this were scarce. He never had much time left to talk in the restaurant, since he was so busy communicating and timing with chef ramsay at the pass, talking to the customers, managing any discomfort anyone might have. But maybe he needed time alone, he hadn't looked much happier either, looking tense and stressed himself.

"Non, non, it's fine."

"Thanks, Jean-Philippe!", earning another 'Pas de quoi' and a smile from him, which you could've sworn vanished a second later, you retreated to the staff room to put your uniform away. You grabbed your bag and looked through to see if you had everything. Finally, you could go home, after this exhausting night, though, you thought to yourself, you hadn't properly said goodbye to Jean-Philippe.

You went back to the dining room and were already cautious, as you heared two voices speaking. Two anyone could recognise instantly, one with a belgian accent and the other, which usually shouted across the kitchen, calm with an english accent. It was chef Ramsay and Jean-Philippe talking and, if you hadn't misheard over the silverware Jean-Philippe polished and dropped in the tray, your name fell along the conversation.

"...You should take a chance, mate. I mean if not now someone else might be the lucky one.", the chef, gave his advice to the maître d', who sighed defeated.

"Gordon, there still is a chance they don't want that with me and we are colleagues, we would still have to see each other...", now he sounded frustrated at the situation he was in, which seemed like he had taken an interest in someone. This left a pang of jealousy blossoming inside you. You had a thing for the belgian gentleman, since the first week you started working as a server in Hell's Kitchen. And hearing him talk about someone he's interested in, upset you quite a bit and left you gloomy.

You turned on your heel, ready to leave right on the spot, not wanting to disrupt them and letting them think that you were snooping around, when you heard something that piqued your interest.

"I just... I wouldn't want to ruin the situation with (y/n), that's all... I don't think she made a sign in my direction. I want to wait until I get a clear signal. And you know maybe she is with someone.", now that took you off guard. He wanted to wait until he got a clear signal? Maybe you still had a chance.

"Mate, don't wait. If you don't want to make it obvious, then give her something, buy her a present or something. Has she mentioned anything she wants? Or something she really likes or would be happy to get? Show her that you notice her, but do something.", he wouldn't need to give you anything, you were already happy if he kept talking to you and trapped you in a conversation. "It's frustrating seeing you do nothing, man. It even shows during service, how you fluster, when they walk by, or getting all clumsy, when your so coordinated. It's painful, really. Think about it.", the chef chuckled along, giving the man beside him a pat on the shoulder and wishing him good night and then retreating outside the front door, leaving the maître d' behind.

You tried to think of way to handle this situation, should you go to him? Or leave and ignore what you've just witnessed. Maybe come early tomorrow night and talk to him then? But what would you say? How would he react? No, not tomorrow... now? Were you going to do this now? Well, he already said he liked you, he just wants to wait for a sign sooo, why not give him one. But would that be too obvious, what if he found out you were listening in? You were sure he would be mad, but in the end... No, you were going to just do it.

Mustering all your courage after waiting a few minutes, you started walking towards him, into the lonely dining room with only himself, the silverware and, as he now noticed, joined by you.

"(y/n)? I thought you already left, it's almost 10pm.", he seemed to have a mixture of shock and surprise written on his face, maybe he would'nt think about you overhearing their conversation.

"Yeah, I know, but, ehm, well, there is something I wanted to tell you...", you said, a bit shyly, hoping he didn't notice the weaver in your voice as you spoke, while moving to stand by his side.

"N'hésitez, please, go on.", as he said that, you quietly asked if he could lean down a bit, so you could whisper it. Complying to your 'confusing' request, you touched his left cheek and pressed your lips just under his cheek near the corner of his mouth. And just as fast as you kissed him you drew back and whispered a quiet "Good night, see you tomorrow.", letting go and heading straight to the front door.

And as you reached you only turned once, catching a glimpse of him standing upright again, looking flustered like you've never seen him before and touching his cheek. You weren't sure if this was a good move, but he hopefully had gotten a clear sign now.

<3 with that, thank you for staying, I hope you enjoyed reading and please fellow writers and readers do give feedback, I’d be very happy to receive advice!!