B-52 is seemingly aloof. Whether it be out of his own accord or simply unaware of what the world does without him, he tends to lose focus until some outside force draws him back in. Those forces typically rope him in for their own gain, but moments like these are the sweetest; When MA draws him back to reality, it’s always calming, careful, something about it felt warmer than the fire that followed behind him.

Their voice sounded heavenly this time around, instantly bringing his eyes back into focus as he stared at the empty shelf in front of him. A quick glance around reminded him of his previous task—stocking the top shelf for MA to avoid the need for them to climb up and hurt themselves. MA’s voice faintly hit his ears once again, causing him to leave his responsibilities to follow the sound.

It was... melodic. Beautiful and just a tad raspy in places—were they talking? B-52 couldn’t make out any solid words, but their tone rose and fell with grace and he wanted to witness the waves they produced in person.

He rounded corners, weaved through the bustling kitchen, only semi-politely moving customers out of his way in the dining area as he followed their voice. It wrapped around him; the melody felt physically compelling—it evoked such a vast mixture of emotions that B-52 couldn’t comprehend.  

Poking his head through the doorway to their room, he watched as they spun around gracefully, moving to tie their apron on and return to work. Their face was so relaxed, calm, yet so passionate as they sang the words to their favourite song; Master Attendant was truly in their own world, unaware of how they have been blessing those across their restaurant with the beauty of their voice.

The sight was something ethereal. The light that danced in from the window moved alongside them, creating such a heavenly glow that mirrored their melody.  

The creak of the floorboards beneath his feet caught MA’s attention, causing them to jump and immediately flush out of embarrassment. They scratched the back of their neck, their smile showing how nervous they’ve become.

“O..oh! B-52! I didn’t see you come in,” they tripped over their words.

“Master Attendant,” he moved towards them, “Why did you stop?”

“Um... stop.. Stop what?”

“What you were doing with your voice. What was it? Why did you stop?”

“You mean singing?”

“Singing? So changing your voice to fit a certain... What is it called...”

“Key?”

“Key. That’s what singing is?”

“Well, yes.”

“Why did you stop?”

They laughed, avoiding B-52's gaze, and question, which confused him. Carefully, he brought his hands to their face, caressing it gently to bring their eyes back to his own. The darker tone to their face was a nice change of pace, he thought, though he didn’t quite understand why.

“Steak? Steak!” MA had been calling out, looking around corners cautiously and keeping their eyes searching.

They bit they inside of their cheek, twisting their lips to the side in a pout. Where could he have gone? It wasn’t as though their makeshift bodyguard was hard to lose—he was a pretty burly man with the height to boot, besides, how could they ever miss those horns when they glint in the sun after a solid polish? It was obvious now by the lack of enthusiastic answer that he must not have been around the restaurant and they decided to press their staff for answers.

“Have any of you seen Steak?”  

“No, and I do my best to keep it that way.”

“Red Wine, please,” MA sighed, “Save it for another time. Anyone else have an actual useful answer for me?”

“I saw him head towards the market, maybe he’s there?” Gingerbread offered, jabbing Red Wine in the side as he rolled his eyes. “Kept mumbling to himself about something, seemed like he was on some sorta mission.”

“Alright...” MA turned to head out, eyes drawn to the floor in thought. What kind of mission would he be on? What was so important to him at this very moment that he needed to leave without letting them know? It’s not as though they demand he tell them, of course, but knowing how efficient he tends to be, the silence was... odd.

“You know where he went, don’t you?” Gingerbread asked once their Master Attendant had left the room.

“Of course,” Red Wine smirked, “But it’ll be much more interesting if they found him on their own.”

MA made their way through the crowd at the market, weaving through people and stepping on their tiptoes every so often in attempt to catch that familiar polished glint above the crowd, but to no avail. Talking to frequently visited shop owners and familiar townspeople led to dead ends as well. How far could he have gone? Through the town? Out towards the woods? MA knew they shouldn’t be worried seeing as he was able to hold his own—he does protect them constantly, after all, but it had started to get late, and seeing as they were committed to the search, they felt obligated to see it to the end.

Playing a quick game of chance, the outcome led their search to the woods; Treading lightly to avoid any potential fallens, but contradicting themselves by calling out for the missing man. Ducking under branches and tripping over overgrown roots every now and again, MA almost cheered when they saw a clearing in the distance.  

Hundreds of brightly coloured wild flowers bloomed in said clearing, swaying softly with the breeze. They were over grown as well, all standing much taller than the usual—MA wondered if it would be a good spot to bring the younger food souls to play. Among the flowers, however, a bright red hue stood out against the rest, a polished gleam blinding them when the sun had moved just right.

‘Steak?’ they thought to themselves—finally! They took a few steps forward before an aggravated voice stopped them in their tracks.

“No!” Steak had yelled out, standing up suddenly. “That isn’t right!”

It was obvious he had been talking to himself as they could only see his back, but what had him so worked up? Instead of calling out to him, they quietly moved a bit closer while remaining hidden to hear just what mission he apparently set out to do.

“This one won’t do. No, neither will this one!” He huffed, turning to look at a different patch of flowers, “No! It has to be perfect—no ordinary flower will do.”

He crouched down, almost eye level with the flowers in front of him, giving them a highly critical look. His calloused fingers reached out to brush the petals gently, caressing each one; A faint smile passed his lips, eyes moving from critical to tender.

“It’s not that you aren’t beautiful in your own ways, but MA deserves the best of the best. They need a flower that can rival their beauty. I’m not giving up until I find such a flower, so I hope you all keep me company until then.”

The tender-hearted way he spoke to these plants, whom he knows cannot reply back to him, tugged on MA’s heart strings. For such a brawny man, Steak was surely gentle at heart—it was something MA truly treasured in him, and something that really got their blood pumping. Their face had suddenly grown hot with a bright blush, though they brushed it off as the effect from the sun; Their smile matched the tone of his as they quietly made their way back to their restaurant—there was no need to disturb him on such an important mission, right?  

“Did you find him?” Red Wine called over his shoulder as they pushed through the doors.

“No,” their blush flared up once again as they ducked their head, briskly walking through the room to avoid their own embarrassment, “Not at all.”