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Chocolate Addiction

“Hyung don’t forget to buy me those chocolate pastries you got for me yesterday!” he called out to his manager as he stepped into the car for another one of their promotions. His manager gave an “A, okay” sign and waved him goodbye.
He could barely sleep last night craving for those chocolate pastries, and he made sure to tell his manager to buy them again. Hopefully once they finished their performance later he could a taste of those delectable morsels of heaven again. 

Cheers of the crowd drowned his thoughts of flaky crusts and oozing decadent chocolate. They had won 1st place in Music Core again, and he was touched by their fans efforts. He knew how much time and work they put into each music show, and for that he will forever be grateful. 
“Yah! Kookie stop spacing out!” Jimin teased as he pushed him. He jokingly elbowed his hyung before getting off the stage and into their dressing room.

He saw some of his hyungs, Jimin in particular, chatting with members from Red Velvet. It’s not a hidden fact that his Jimin hyung was dating Red Velvet’s Irene. They caused a big scandal back in the heydays of BTS when they revealed their relationship. But now after a few years, their fans and netizens have gotten used to seeing them together, that the name Irene became synonymous with Jimin.

He sat down and decided to ignore the whole dating scent flaring up in the air. In his mind the only scent he wants to smell is that of chocolates and hazelnut. Nothing would make him so happy right now than the taste of those pastries.

He reached his arm down into his left pocket and pulled out the paper bag that once contained the sweets and began inhaling the leftover aroma stuck to the bag.
“What was in that bread you ate? You keep on sniffing that bag as if it’s Heroin or something?” Namjoon hyung asked him.
He raised his head from the bag and replied. “Heaven hyung. Heaven was in those bread.”
They laughed at his response but he doesn’t care. If he had his way, he would live inside this paper bag!

This was bad, he was lost. Jungkook was going to kill him! He was lost and he had no idea where the shop, where he bought those pastries, was! He told himself to calm down. He will find the store, he was sure of it.

He stared at the road and face-palmed himself. He was certain it was north but as he reached the hill, he only saw rows and rows of houses and a closed store. He was screwed.Jungkook is going to be more pissed.
“Wait maybe I can buy him those sweet buns instead. Or… aha! I will just buy something that looks like those pastries. He’ll never know the difference.” he told himself. 
He kept on walking talking to himself saying it would be better to buy a pastry that kind of resembles the one he ate. He ended up buying a bread from the french section of a famous department store in Hongdae.

“Jungkook won’t notice.”
“Jungkook won’t notice”
He chanted these words to himself as he walked towards his car. And even while driving he ended up saying this mantra over and over again.

He, the Golden maknae of Bangtan, did notice.
He noticed that his manager bought him the wrong pastry!!!!
“Hyung don’t you have a nose?!!! How can this ordinary piece of bread be considered the same as my pastry from heaven?!!!” he snapped at his manager, angry and frustrated. He had been looking forward to those bread and had been fantasizing about the whole day. He couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t be able to eat any today. 
As soon as he opened the parcel his manager bought he knew that it was not the same bread. It smelled like a department store unlike his decadent heavenly smelling pastry.

“Hyung! You said you would buy those pastries! I want those pastries! No this!” he complained or more like roared. He was furious. He doesn't know where this intense desire is coming from but he must have those sweets!!!
“The wrapper do you still have it?” his manager asked. He sulked all the more and glared at his V hyung and J-hope hyung. His said hyungs tried to evade his glare. 
“No, I don’t have it because certain people like touching other people’s stuff!!” He shouted and went out of the dressing room slamming the door.
Before he made it far from their dressing room, he his Namjoon hyung and Jin hyung scolding his V hyung and J-hope hyung.
“Help Bam-hyung find those pastries!” Namjoon’s voiced boomed.

His two hyungs had thrown away his paper bag saying he looked like an addict, and it was no longer good for him to keep on sniffing a paper bag. He was so pissed when he found out, now he was grumpier and hell there was a blood to pay from asking him the golden maknae to be evil.

Clouds of white shoot up, as a wooden counter is dusted with flour. A pair of flawless hands with candle like fingers slowly placed the perfect dough onto the counter. From the side you could see the numerous layers and folds painstakingly crafted by dough’s maker. This just shows that the dough has been folded upon itself over and over again for three days at most to achieve this grandiose form.
The dough is laid flat and a wooden rolling pin slowly glides through the firm dough fresh from the encasement of the fridge. The dough is turn numerous times until its maker is pleased with its width. Careful and calculating hands guide a sharp knife through the perfect square dough and makes 60 pieces of small sized rectangles. Each piece is snuggled into the baking sheets before making its way to the brick oven of “Fais de beaux Reves” kitchen.

The same flawless hands crack fresh farm eggs and gracefully separate the yolks from the white until a dozen egg yolks sit in a blue ceramic bowl. The yolks burn a bright orange yellow color amidst the blue resembling the sun at high noon. The eggs are left alone and in a pitch black pot resting over the stove a pitcher of creamy fresh milk is pour. The flames of the stove is ignited and thick double cream is added to the milk. The white concoction is left to shimmer, as a vanilla pod is sliced in two and instantly the room is filled with the smell of fresh vanilla. A delicate of the knife scrapes away the vanilla seeds from its shelter and carefully adds it to the milk and cream mix. The leftover vanilla shell is added into the pot and it is left to shimmer, encasing everything exposed to air with its deep, sweet but earthy aroma.

The bowls with the happy sunny eggs are disturbed as dainty hands return to it. White crystals are added into the eggs and agile hands mix and cream it like a vortex, until the little suns disappear and one giant pastel of light mixture is left. The silken mixture is now ready for the milk and cream. By this time the milk is boiling and careful hands take the pot and adds a little of the hot mixture into the eggs. Preventing the eggs from getting shocked from the heat. The collision of these two released the strong earthy scent of the vanilla laced milk, creating the indescribable odor of creamy custard. Slowly the egg and the milk are incorporated before the whole egg mixture is mixed into the whole pot of milk that resembles snow, if snow was creamy. A whisk incorporates the whole concoction until it is silky and smooth. Before it comes to the perfect consistency nutmeg and other spices are added into it. Anyone could smell the scent of the cooked custard rooms away, the deep, sweet and earthy smell of the vanilla, mixed with the scent of milk and the nutty undertones of nutmeg plus other spices like anise. The whole smell of the room could be bottled up into a perfume and people would buy it like crazy.

In a different bowl heavy cream with a dash of orange and lemon zest is beaten until soft mountains of fluffy white is created. The citrus scent of the oranges and lemons intricately make their way through the smog of vanilla and spices like a happy stop-over. Just when you feel that the scent of the custard is suffocating, the zesty whiff of citrus will give relief. This fluffy mix is  then set aside, and fresh berries are taken out of the fridge and washed until they appear to be drenched in dew.

The puff dough is done and it is taken out of the oven and it too releases its own smell. The scent reminds one of ripe wheat stalks driving in the summer sun. The smell was deep, rich and made one’s mouth water. One by one each piece if laid out on cooling racks and the custard and the cream are stuffed into piping bags. When the puff pastry was cool enough to touch it is laid out on parchment paper. 

She was eyeing the custard, the whole time her Jennie unnie was making the custard of her famous mille feuille, she had stopped and watched. was salivating over the custard, no one makes an out of this world vanilla custard like her sister! And the distinct vanilla-nutmeg custard scent was mixing with the tangy-sweet, citrusy cream was like the winter holidays  on a hot summer noon. 

“Lisa don’t even think about it.” her unnie warned. How could she see her? When she was busy setting out the base of her signature desserts? Her unnie laid out the base and the custard was calmly piped on top of the base pastry in resting swirls. Fresh raspberries and blueberries are arranged on top of the custard before another puff pastry is placed on top of the masterpiece. This time her unnie took the orange lemon cream and piped it on top of the second layer in dollops that look like roses. She was using her rose tip piping nozzle she was sure. More berries are placed on top of the cream and last layer of puff pastry caps it off. The power combo mixture of fruits, custard and lemon-orange cream could knock any patissier’s socks off at first bite. There was just something magical in the way these flavors mix. It was eclectic and homey all at the same time.

Her unnie repeats this process until 20, jaw dropping, selfie worth it, mouth watering pastries are created. Jennie unnie finishes her work with a drizzle of white snow in the form of confectioners sugar. She places each mille feuille onto a beautiful pink box before tying it with pink ribbon. 

She was still eyeing the box, wishing she could eat at least just one of the mille feuille when her unnie placed a saucer in front of her. She gasped in happiness upon seeing two mille feuille resting perfectly on it.

“The boxes could only fit 18.” her unnie said as she handed her a cute totoro fork.
She eagerly took her fork and watched as it sliced through the crunchy, flaky but fluffy layers of the mille feuille. The custard and the cream did nothing to stop her from taking a big portion of the masterpiece away. The three layered cream and custard filled portion on her fork went straight to her eager mouth. As soon as the crunchy base hit her tongue she bit into it and the custard and the cream along with the fruit met her tastebuds she burst into a dance. Her happy dance that only her sister and her late father could initiate. full of the silky custard and oh-so fruity taste while her nose was having a smell-o-rama with the vanilla and lemon-orange scent of the whole dessert. Whenever her tongue touched the custard, she imagined herself s