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A story about late nights, impossible kitchens, and the person who makes the chaos feel a little quieter.
The first thing you learn about the restaurant is that nobody really belongs there.
Not at first.
Everyone walks in pretending they know what they’re doing. They tie their aprons, memorize the menu, smile at customers, and act like the pressure doesn’t get under their skin.
But it does.
The restaurant has a way of exposing people.
It shows who breaks under pressure, who learns to survive, and who becomes someone completely different by the end of the night.
You found that out on your first shift.
New York was supposed to be exciting. A fresh start. A place where you could disappear into the crowd and become someone new.
You didn’t expect a restaurant to feel like a battlefield.
The place was noisy; the sound of plates clanging on tables, orders being shouted, glasses clinking, footsteps rushing by... Everyone moved as if they were part of a machine.
"You're new."
Ses barın arkasından geliyordu.
You turned.
That was the first time you saw Jake.
He wasn't trying to get your attention. He wasn't trying to impress anyone. He just stood there, calmly polishing a glass while the rest of the restaurant moved around him like chaos was something he had already learned to ignore.
"Is it that obvious?" you asked.
His eyes moved over you for a second — the nervous expression, the way you were holding the tray too tightly, the fact that you were clearly trying not to look lost.
"Yeah."
You raised an eyebrow.
Jake placed the glass down.
"But that's not always a bad thing."
Before you could answer, someone called his name from across the room. Jake looked away, already returning to the rush.
And for some reason, you couldn't stop watching him.
Maybe because everyone else looked like they were trying to survive the restaurant.
Jake looked like he already had.
You didn't know much about Jake.
Only the things people said.
That he was charming when he wanted to be. That he knew exactly what to say. That he had a reputation for leaving before anyone had the chance to ask him to stay.
The kind of person warned everyone about you.
"Don't get too comfortable around him."
You heard it during your second week, whispered between shifts like it was some kind of rule everyone already understood.
Jake was the bartender everyone noticed.
The one people looked for when they walked into the room. The one who could make someone feel special without actually promising them anything.
You told yourself you weren't interested.
You had enough problems trying to survive the restaurant.
You didn't need another one.
But the problem with Jake was that he was never as simple as the stories made him sound.
Because the same person who supposedly didn't care about anyone was the one who noticed when you were struggling. The same person who avoided conversations about himself somehow remembered every small thing about you.
Your coffee order.
The way you hated carrying too many plates at once.
The fact that you always stayed a few minutes longer after your shift ended because you didn't want to go home yet.
Jake noticed everything.
He just pretended he didn't.
The restaurant was different when it was busy.
It was loud enough to hide mistakes.
At least, that's what you thought.
Until tonight.
One wrong order turned into three. Three became five. Suddenly, every table seemed to need something at the exact same moment, and you felt like the entire room was moving faster than you could keep up with.
"Table twelve is waiting."
"Kitchen needs that order."
"Someone fix the drinks."
The voices blended together.
Your hands tightened around the tray.
And then you heard him.
"Give it to me."
Jake.
You looked over.
"I can handle it."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I know."
A pause.
"That's why I'm telling you to give it to me."
For a second, you forgot about the noise around you.
Because Jake wasn't looking at you like you were the new person who might not last.
He was looking at you like he knew exactly how close you were to breaking.
You sighed and gave him what you were holding. He looked at you for a while longer and then walked away. Small favors weren't his thing.
You'd learned that from Simone. Someone who knew Jake well. You didn't know exactly what was between them. You didn't want to know. Lately, nobody mattered to you. You'd made time for yourself.
You were happy about that.
For once, your life wasn't revolving around someone else.
You weren't waiting for a message. You weren't trying to figure out what someone's silence meant. You weren't searching for hidden meanings in every little thing.
The restaurant already gave you enough things to overthink.
Every night was the same kind of chaos. The endless orders, the impossible expectations, the exhaustion that followed you home even after you took off your apron.
But somehow, you were getting used to it.
You were learning.
And maybe that was enough.
"You're staring."
The voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
You looked up.
Jake was standing behind the bar again, one hand resting on the counter. His expression was unreadable, like always.
"I'm not."
A small smirk appeared on his face.
"Sure."
You rolled your eyes and went back to organizing the glasses.
"I was just thinking."
"That's dangerous."
You glanced at him.
"Is that supposed to be funny?"
"No."
He said it so seriously that you almost laughed.
Almost.
Jake wasn't the type of person who tried too hard. He didn't chase attention. He didn't need to. People naturally looked his way.
But lately, you noticed something.
He looked your way too.
Not in the way everyone expected.
Not like a bartender looking for another easy conversation.
Something else.
Something you couldn't quite understand.
"You're different lately," Jake said suddenly.
Your hands stopped moving.
"What does that mean?"
He shrugged, looking away.
"Nothing."
But it didn't sound like nothing.
Jake picked up a glass and started cleaning it, avoiding your eyes.
And for the first time, you wondered if maybe you weren't the only one paying attention.
The following night, Simone found you during a rare moment of silence.
Silence in the restaurant was strange.
It never lasted long.
You were standing near the back hallway, checking the reservation list, when she leaned against the wall beside you.
"You like him."
You immediately looked up.
"What?"
Simone gave you a meaningful look.
"Jake."
You chuckled softly.
"That's a bit random."
"No, it's not."
She glanced toward the bar where Jake was talking to a customer, completely unaware of the conversation about him.
"Everyone thinks they know Jake."
You were silent.
"Some think he's indifferent. Some think he's just looking for the next person to amuse himself with."
She paused.
"But that's the easy version."
You looked back at her.
"What about the hard version?"
Simone smiled slightly.
"Actually, he's one of the most complicated people here."
You didn't answer.
Because somehow you already knew.
"Jake doesn't let people get close," she continued. "Not because he doesn't like them."
She looked at you.
"Because he does."
Those words lingered in your mind longer than you expected.
Before you could ask anything else, someone called Simone's name from the dining room.
She leaned against the wall.
"Just be careful."
You raised an eyebrow.
"Because will he hurt me?"
Simone shook her head.
"No."
A brief pause.
"Because you can actually see him."
And then she walked away, leaving you with a sentence you couldn't stop thinking about.
Simone strangely kept trying to keep people away from Jake.
As if there was some kind of mystery between them.
She turned away from the conversation and went back to her work or controlling people. Simone was always like that. You'd noticed. You weren't stupid.
Not exactly protective. Not exactly jealous either.
Just… being careful.
The change in her expression when someone mentioned Jake. The way she seemed to know what they were thinking before they even spoke. The way she warned people without explaining why.
It was like there was a story between them. A story no one wanted to tell. And you didn't want to get involved.
At least, that's what you told yourself.
Jake was Jake.
Captivating, unpredictable, and probably the last person who would complicate your already exhausting life even more.
But curiosity was a dangerous thing.
Especially in a place like this.
The restaurant was built on secrets. Everyone had a secret. Everyone carried something they didn't want anyone else to see.
Maybe Jake's secret was harder to find.
"You're thinking out loud."
You turned around. Jake was standing there, holding two empty glasses. It was as if he was following you.
You frowned.
"That's impossible."
He shrugged.
"It is possible with you."
You smiled slightly involuntarily.
"Do you always listen to conversations that aren't about you?"
"No."
He put the glasses down on the counter.
"Only conversations where people mention my name."
You froze for a moment.
"Did you hear that?"
"Enough."
Jake didn't look angry. That was somehow worse. He just looked curious.
"Did Simone tell you something interesting?"
You studied his face, trying to understand what he was hiding.
"Should she have?"
For a moment, neither of you said anything.
The restaurant noise continued around you, but it seemed to be coming from a distance.
Jake looked away first.
"Simone likes to think people understand."
"But does she really understand?"
A slight smile appeared on his face.
"Sometimes."
He picked up the glasses again.
"Sometimes he understands them better than they understand themselves."
Then he walked away.
Leaving you with even more questions. Jake strangely always came and bothered you, leaving you alone with questions.
You started to hate it.
Not because you wanted him to stay.
At least, that was what you told yourself.
You hated that Jake had this strange ability to appear for a few minutes, say something that made no sense, and leave you with a hundred questions.
It was irritating.
You had enough things to deal with.
The restaurant was exhausting enough without adding Jake to the list.
But somehow, he had already become part of your routine.
You noticed when he wasn't behind the bar.
You noticed when he was quieter than usual.
You noticed the small things you didn't want to notice.
And that bothered you more than anything.
Because Jake wasn't supposed to matter.
He was just another person in a restaurant full of complicated people.
A person with a reputation.
A person everyone seemed to know something about.
A person you had promised yourself you wouldn't get curious about.
But curiosity was exactly what he created.
You looked toward the bar.
Jake was laughing with someone, completely unaware of the thoughts running through your mind.
Or maybe he wasn't.
With Jake, you were never completely sure.
And somehow, that was the most frustrating part.
You tried to focus on your work.
You brought food to the tables.
You washed the dishes.
The same things everyone else does.
You tried not to think about Jake. Or Simone.
Just work.
You moved through the restaurant like you had done it for months instead of weeks.
You learned when to speak. When to stay quiet. When to disappear into the chaos.
Because the restaurant was easier to understand than people.
People were complicated.
People came with expectations, rumors, and unfinished stories.
The restaurant only asked one thing from you.
Keep up.
So you focused on that.
Just work.
No Jake.
No Simone.
No unnecessary questions.
At least, that was the plan.
Until you noticed the drink sitting beside your station.
You looked around.
Nobody was there.
A glass of water.
Exactly the way you liked it.
No ice.
You stared at it for a moment.
It was such a small thing that it shouldn't have mattered.
But somehow, it did.
"Don't overthink it."
You toured.
Jake was already walking back towards the bar.
You frowned.
"Was that you?"
He didn't turn around.
"Was what me?"
You looked at the glass.
"Nothing."
A small smile appeared on his face, but he kept walking.
The next few days were easier.
Not easy.
Never easy.
But easier.
You stopped feeling like the restaurant was waiting for you to fail.
You learned the rhythm.
The timing.
The silent conversations that happened between the staff without words.
You learned that everyone had their own way of surviving.
Some people talked too much. Some people disappeared. Some people acted like nothing could hurt them. And some people, like Jake, watched everything.
You noticed that about him.
He was always watching.
Not in a strange way.
More like he was collecting pieces of the world around him.
The way someone held their glass. The way a person avoided eye contact.
The moment someone needed help before they asked for it.
You wondered if he ever got tired of noticing everything.
"Table six needs you."
The voice pulled you back.
Another busy night.
Another rush.
You grabbed the plates and moved.
This time, you didn't hesitate.
You didn't panic.
You handled it.
And when the night finally slowed down, you caught Jake looking at you from behind the bar.
Not the usual quick glance.
Not the look of someone simply passing time.
Something different.
"You got better," he said.
You looked at him.
"Was that a compliment?"
He shrugged.
"Don't get used to it."
You smiled.
"Too late."
For a second, Jake looked like he wanted to say something else.
But he didn't.
He just looked away.
"You want something?"
You looked up.
Jake wasn't looking at you.
He was cutting a piece of fruit, completely focused on what he was doing.
"What?"
"A drink."
You laughed softly.
"Are you offering me a drink while I'm working?"
He finally looked at you.
"You're off in ten minutes."
You raised an eyebrow.
"You know my schedule?"
A small smile appeared on his face.
"I work here."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"It does."
You shook your head, amused.
Jake continued preparing the cocktail.
The sound of ice moving inside the shaker filled the silence between you.
"You always this curious?" he asked.
"About what?"
"Everything."
You thought about it for a second.
"Maybe."
Jake poured the drink into a glass and placed it in front of you.
"That's dangerous."
"So you've said."
This time, he smiled.
A real one.
Small, but real.
You looked at the drink.
"What is it?"
"Something I made."
"That's not an explanation."
"It doesn't need one."
You looked at him.
"You always answer questions with more questions?"
"Only when people ask too many."
You laughed quietly.
And for a moment, it didn't feel like the restaurant.
No rumors.
No Simone.
No stories people told about Jake.
Just two people standing behind a bar after a long night, talking about nothing important.
And somehow, that felt more important than anything else.
For a while, neither of you said anything.
The restaurant slowly emptied around you.
Chairs were pushed back into place. The last customers left. The voices that had filled the room all night became distant until there was only the quiet sound of cleaning.
You took another sip of the drink.
It was good.
Annoyingly good.
"You like it?"
Jake's voice pulled you back.
You looked at him.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
You smiled slightly.
"You're very confident."
"No."
He wiped the counter in front of him.
"Just observant."
You looked at him for a moment.
That was probably true.
Jake noticed things people didn't want him to notice.
"You do that a lot, don't you?"
"Do what?"
"Watch people."
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked around the empty restaurant.
"Someone has to."
You tilted your head.
"Why?"
A small shrug.
"Because most people don't pay attention."
The answer surprised you.
It wasn't what you expected.
You thought he would make a joke.
Avoid the question.
Change the subject.
But he didn't.
"You always wanted to work here?" he asked.
You looked down at the glass in your hand.
"No."
"Then why are you here?"
The question was simple.
But somehow, it felt harder to answer than it should have been.
You looked toward the empty tables.
"Maybe I wanted to prove I could do something difficult."
Jake nodded slowly.
Like he understood.
"That's usually why people come here."
"Why did you?"
The question came out before you could stop it.
Jake looked at you.
For a second, you thought you had asked too much.
Then he looked away.
"Good question."
You waited.
But he didn't answer.
Of course he didn't.
Because Jake always gave people just enough to make them curious.
Never enough to know the whole story.
Still…
For the first time, you didn't feel frustrated by it.
You just wanted to know more.
You waited.
This time, you didn't push.
Maybe that was the difference.
Most people wanted answers from Jake because they wanted to figure him out.
You just wanted to understand.
After a few seconds, he finally spoke.
"I started bartending when I was young."
You looked at him.
"Young?"
He nodded.
"Yeah."
Jake placed the towel down on the counter.
"Before I really knew what I wanted to do."
There was something different in his voice.
Less teasing.
Less guarded.
"You liked it?"
He thought about it.
"I liked that people told me things."
You smiled slightly.
"That's why you listen?"
"Maybe."
He looked at the empty glasses in front of him.
"When you're behind a bar, people forget you're there."
You stayed quiet.
"They talk. They tell you things they wouldn't tell anyone else."
His fingers tapped lightly against the counter.
"And you learn a lot about people."
You looked at him.
"Is that why you watch everyone?"
A small smile appeared.
"Maybe."
There it was again.
That answer.
The one that somehow said everything and nothing at the same time.
"So you just always wanted to be a bartender?"
Jake shook his head.
"No."
A pause.
"But it made sense."
"Why?"
He looked around the restaurant.
At the empty tables.
The lights that were slowly being turned off.
"The restaurant is honest."
You raised an eyebrow.
"Honest?"
"Yeah."
He looked back at you.
"Everyone comes here pretending they have everything figured out."
A small smile crossed his face.
"But after a long enough shift, nobody can pretend anymore."
You didn't know why, but that answer stayed with you.
Maybe because Jake wasn't talking about the restaurant.
Maybe he was talking about himself.
You looked at him for a moment.
"What do you mean?"
Jake's eyes met yours.
For once, he didn't look away immediately.
"The restaurant."
He glanced around the empty room.
"People walk in here pretending they're something they're not."
You listened quietly.
"They want to look successful. Confident. Like they know exactly what they're doing."
He gave a small laugh.
"But everyone cracks eventually."
You looked down at your drink.
"And you?"
The question came out softer than you intended.
Jake was quiet.
"What about me?"
"You've been here for years. You watch everyone else, but..."
You paused.
"You never really let anyone watch you."
For a second, something changed in his expression.
Not much.
Just enough for you to notice.
Jake picked up a clean glass and started polishing it again.
"Maybe I'm not that interesting."
You almost laughed.
"That's probably the least believable thing you've said all night."
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Careful."
"Why?"
"Because curiosity gets people in trouble."
You held his gaze.
"Maybe I don't mind."
The smile faded slightly.
Not because he was upset.
Because, for the first time, Jake looked like he didn't know what to say.
You picked up your bag and walked toward the exit.
The night air hit you the moment you stepped outside.
New York felt different after midnight.
The streets were quieter, the lights softer, and for a few minutes, the city stopped feeling like it was trying to compete with everyone.
You adjusted your jacket and started walking.
"You're going this way?"
You turned.
Jake was locking the restaurant door behind him.
You blinked.
"Yeah."
He nodded toward the street.
"Me too."
You looked at him suspiciously.
"You live in my direction?"
"No."
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Close enough."
You almost laughed.
"That doesn't make sense."
"Most things don't."
You shook your head, but you couldn't stop the small smile on your face.
For a while, you walked in silence.
It wasn't the awkward kind.
It was the kind of silence that didn't need to be filled.
Jake kept his hands in his pockets, looking around the streets like he had memorized every corner of the city.
"You really like New York?"
The question surprised you.
You looked at him.
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
You shrugged.
"Some days it feels like the best place in the world."
You looked ahead.
"Other days it feels like it doesn't care if you're there or not."
Jake nodded.
"That's New York."
You glanced at him.
"You say that like you know."
A quiet laugh escaped him.
"I do."
There was something in his voice.
Something that told you he wasn't just talking about the city.
"You've been here a long time?"
"Long enough."
You smiled.
"That's not an answer."
Jake looked at you.
"You really hate those, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Good."
You frowned.
"Good?"
He looked away.
"Means you're paying attention."
You didn't know why that made you smile.
Maybe because with Jake, every small thing felt like it had another meaning.
Sonunda sokağınıza vardığınızda durdunuz.
"This is me."
Jake nodded.
"Okay."
Onun hemen gideceğini bekliyordunuz.
That's what Jake did.
He emerged.
He stayed just long enough.
A slight smile appeared on his face.
You were leaving. He stopped you.
Without saying a word, he pressed his lips against yours
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Price owns the building and business. He pays competitive wages and changes up the menu pretty often. He also works right alongside his staff, never losing touch with what the job is that he's asking them to do. Takes pride in his restaurant and staff.
Kyle is the bartender, charismatic, and a little bit of a flirt. He racks in good tips and learns all the latest gossip from around town. He's a little heavy-handed on his pours, but that's what keeps people coming back. (Enter the *Two shots of vodka* meme. That's Kyle.)
Simon is back line, head chef. His food is damn near perfect. He keeps his kitchen spotless, his ingredients stocked, and his staff motivated and moving. His specialty is steaks, and he makes amazing compound butters.
Johnny is either a host or a waiter. He also loves a little flirting and makes people feel welcome. He has a knack for remembering people and orders. People love when he serves their table because he cracks jokes and keeps everyone attened too.
I like to think that in that restaurant/chef AU, Phainon is just some guy that Mydei found on the street one day, said hello to, and now Phainon follows him around like a puppy. And then one day he shows up for the interview with these big puppy eyes. And then comes in with that comically large pan.
“Where tf did you get that thing???”
“I just saved up for it ^o^!!”
“Aren’t you homeless????”
“…No?????”
And the truth is Phainon just so happened to be caught in the rain after he got fired from his other job . So much so he looked like a homeless, pathetic, sopping wet puppy. And he just so happened to be conventionally attracted to Mydeimos.
