The way he moved was magic. Youngbae sat in a small empty corner and watched Hongjun maneuver around the kitchen with such swiftness and grace; he was fixated. Fixated on the smooth hand movements as he chopped a variety of meat and vegetables, on his wrists as he sautéed, on the sweat dripping from his brow due to the heat from the burners.

The line cooks worked as if they’d choreographed their movements. They were used to each other; the synchronization was astonishing. It was as if their bodies were in tune with each other, and Hongjun danced to the rhythm of the kitchen; pots and pans clanging, orders being shouted out and knives hitting the cutting boards. He looked majestic. Youngbae was so entranced that he’d forgotten to take not of what the other chefs and cooks were doing.

Everyone in the kitchen was talented. They knew listless recipes and could modify them based on the preferences of the customers.

“Creamy orzo with a side of sautéed kale,” the sous chef would announce, and the cooks knew exactly what to do.

He’d been listening to the waiters as they came in and out of the kitchen to pick up the customers’ orders. Jihye and some of them would stand in a small corner and chat while they waited. “Why is Chef Park working the line?” one of them, a pretty red-head, asked. “I have no idea, I haven’t seen him work the line since… well… never, actually” the blonde replied.

Youngbae continued to eavesdrop a bit more.

“Wow, he looks so hot when he’s all focused, don’t you think?” the blonde said cheekily.

“Chaerin!” Jihye replied “come on, our orders are up.”

Youngbae didn’t know when, during the course of his arrival and watching the older man work through the lunch shift, he’d stopped being intimidated by Chef Park. He was more intrigued now.

He sat pensively; he wanted to know about Hongjun. He didn’t know why but he wanted to know everything. Why he was here. Where he’d studied. If he’d studied. What his hair looked like underneath his bandana. What he liked to cook for breakfast. How he would look in jeans and a t-shirt.

His train of thought was interrupted by a finger tapping him on the shoulder.

“You’re probably hungry,” Chef Park said as he handed Youngbae a paper plate with shrimp fettuccine alfredo pasta on it.

“You made this?” Youngbae asked instead of thanking him.

“One of the waitresses messed up the customer’s order.” Chef Park replied, not answering his question.

Youngbae twirled some pasta on the plastic fork and took a bite “well that customer is missing out. This is really good,” Youngbae said as he tried not to inhale the plate of food; he was starving.

“Easy boy. There’s lots of food left over at the end of the day,” Chef Park paused, “we’re not really supposed to eat it…but if you stay after closing then it’ll be the perfect opportunity for me to start teaching you our recipes.”

Youngbae nodded and flashed a closed mouth smile because his mouth was full of food.

~

Youngbae was tired of sitting around and observing, so he got up and walked over to the dishwashing station.

He grabbed dishes and began to scrub away at them without saying a word. The dishwashers paused and looked at him as if he had just killed someone. “You looked like you could use some help,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah…. Thanks,” one of them replied as he handed Youngbae a towel to dry the dishes off with.

Hongjun walked over to them “did they make you wash dishes?” he asked.

“I felt useless just sitting so I thought I’d help out.”

Hongjun chuckled and walked back to where the cooks were working.

~

A few hours and dozens of plates of food later, the dinner shift was over. Youngbae didn’t know exactly how he’d managed to keep his sanity being in the same place almost all day. Perhaps it was because he loved cooking that much. He’d watch the cooks at different stations and examine how they moved. He took mental notes of how they carried out different tasks.

The mechanics and inner workings of a kitchen were much more complicated and chaotic than he had fathomed. First the waiter takes the order and brings the receipt into the kitchen, next the line cooks have to figure out what their task in completing the dish is and how many identical items for different dishes they have to make. The sous chef, who is much like a drill sergeant, calls out commands and gives directions. Once the sous chef gives the okay on a dish, it’s placed on the slide and the waiters come to pick it up and deliver it to the customer. In a perfect world, everything goes smoothly. Not only do the workers have to worry about counting things precisely but also on presentation and taste. “Wipe that smudge off the plate,” and “this needs more salt.” Youngbae grew nervous as he watched all of the interactions.

The cooks and chefs knew where everything was in the kitchen, they knew how to move in synchronization with their co-workers, and most importantly of all, they knew how to cook. Not just backyard BBQ cooking, but real cooking. Eight years of culinary school cooking. For Youngbae to be here was a blessing and a curse. By the commotion in the kitchen, he could tell they were short-staffed and that he was damn lucky to have been hired with no prior experience, but he also felt like he was being a burden. He didn’t have knowledge and felt like he couldn’t reach the skill level that the other chefs and cooks had reached.

His train of thought was interrupted by a shout from one of the other sous chefs, “Alright, good job everyone! You’re off the clock,” she shouted.

Everyone finished cleaning their stations, took their bandanas off, and began leaving the restaurant.

“Okay, we’re staying a bit later so we’ll have to close tonight. Are you ready to learn?” Chef Park asked.

His hair was black. Short and black and matted with sweat.

“I was born ready,” Youngbae replied.

The kitchen was empty and everything seemed to look more magical at night. The sky was dark, painted with stars and various hues of blue and black; it peeked in perfectly through the windows, changing the ambiance of the kitchen.

"So the first thing I'll teach you are the 5 mother sauces."