A/N: Hurray, subscribers already~! *throws confetti* I was worried about how people would feel about this plot xD I wasn't planning on posting a chapter today, but I had a few hours before my famjam tonight *sighs*, Filipinos and their parties -_-"

Enjoy~ :)

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

This was exactly one of the reasons why I feared the working world – you come across messed up coincidences like this.

 “Miss, you didn’t give me an answer,” he said. “Do you know each other?”

 “You could say that,” Kikwang said, plastering an annoying grin on his face. “I could almost remember our first meeting like it was yesterday.”

 “Our first meeting was ten minutes ago,” I muttered in frustration. Regardless of the situation I was in, I managed to change my attitude and kept a little smile on my face.

 “So Hyosung, what experience do you have in cooking?”  Mr.Choi asked.

“Oh, well I took a few cooking classes, and my family and friends think that I am an excellent cook,” I said with pride. I could see Kikwang from the side, trying to hold in his laugh like a true douchebag.

 “I’ve studied the culinary arts for three years, and worked in a restaurant before,” he boasted. Either this guy was really arrogant, or he was just really desperate for a job. It all seemed pretty fishy to me. I thought about it for a while and then realized something: this idiot is probably exaggerating everything! Culinary arts, for all I knew, could be his fancy way of saying he took cooking classes as well, or even worse, he just reads cookbooks. He never even mentioned the kind of restaurant he worked at. What if this guy worked at a cheap fast-food restaurant, or a terrible restaurant filing for bankruptcy? Suddenly, Kikwang didn’t seem as impressive to me.

 That was, until the manager asked us to cook.

 Our task was to cook something off the top of our heads; something that could display our talents. Being the stupid, easy-way-out type of girl that I was, I chose to cook the simplest thing – fried noodles. While I was frying noodles, Kikwang was across the kitchen from me, cooking up some sort of gourmet dish that I’ve never cooked, let alone seen before in my life. I looked over and saw the manager nodding his head and writing notes down, as if I had a chance at getting the job now.

 So I am going to say this: The working world was not meant for me.

 “Look, I think it’s obvious who is going to get the job, so I might as well leave while I still have a shred of dignity,” I sighed, removing my apron.

 “Woah, what is with the sudden lack of confidence?” Mr.Choi asked worriedly. “You were doing well.”

 “Have you seen Kikwang’s dish?” I replied. “He cut a tomato up into the shape of a rose and cooked some sort of meat that looks too pretty to eat, while I fried brown noodles.”

 “Miss, our restaurant does not only care about how the food looks. We care more about what it tastes like,” Mr.Choi explained. “I would have hired you even if your dish was ugly. Have you ever thought that maybe Kikwang’s meal was utterly repulsive?”

 “But it’s not,” Kikwang interjected. After hearing what the manager said, I had a pretty good idea of why his restaurant didn’t get a lot of business. Advertising brown stuff wasn’t really the best way to attract new customers.

 Mr.Choi took a bite out of both of our dishes and looked satisfied.

 “You both made delicious meals,” he said, “but I am pretty disappointed in your behaviour, Hyosung.”

 “So, I guess I blew it then, huh?” I sighed.

 “Yeah, you did,” Kikwang said bluntly.

 “How about you shut up for a second?” I said sarcastically.

 “Miss, I really think that if you want to keep your job, you should gain a little more patience,” Mr.Choi said. Wait – did he just imply that I got the job?

 “Did you just offer me the job?” I asked. I could feel the corners of my mouth pull up.

 “You’re not seriously going to hire her over me, right?” Kikwang gasped.

 “Well, you’re cocky attitude does not really leave a good impression either, Kikwang,” Mr.Choi said. “But I would feel bad to reject both of you – your dishes would make great additions to the menu. So, I’ve decided that Kikwang will be the new chef, and Hyosung can be a waitress.”

“A waitress?!” I yelled. “This is like a display of ism! I have the right to be treated with the same respect as Kikwang.”

 “Well to be honest, Kikwang was able to make a much larger portion within the given time, and I need to see that you will have enough patience to work in a kitchen. Starting off as a waitress will be good for you. Working in a kitchen is a lot more hectic than most people think,” Mr.Choi explained.

 “Ah, you’ve got to be joking,” I grunted. “This is just not my day.”

 “Are you going to accept the job offer or not?” Mr.Choi asked. I pondered over the subject for a little while. Looking back and forth from Kikwang to the manager, I knew that working here won’t work out as well as I had planned. But, I really needed to get this job otherwise my mom would never stop bothering me about my future.

 “I’ll take the job,” I sighed, watching Kikwang’s face cringe.

 “Excellent!” Mr.Choi smiled. “Just write down your phone number so I can call you about the hours you will be working.” It amazed me at how unprofessional they were at the restaurant. I mean, he didn’t really look over my resume, I didn’t have a formal interview, and now my hours are being discussed over the phone without any scheduled time.

 Kikwang wrote down his information and left first. Once he left, I turned to Mr.Choi and asked him, “Sir, why did you hire me? I’m pretty sure there are many others who could be a better waitress than I.”

 “You have the potential to be an excellent chef,” he replied.

 “That makes no sense,” I said in frustration. “If I have great potential, then why must I start as a waitress? I can learn to be more patient by working in the kitchen just as much as I could if I were a waitress.”

 “Honestly speaking, I can’t trust you and Kikwang in the same room, where there are knives lying around everywhere. I suspected that there was some scary competition going on between the two of you,” he chuckled. I knew he didn’t really intend on it sounding like a joke and that he just wanted me to feel better.

 “Sir...” I hesitated for a moment. I didn’t want to say it, but I had to. “...If Kikwang and I can get along, will you let me work in the kitchen? I really don’t want to be a waitress.”

 “Get along?” he repeated. “Do you think you can easily get along with him?” Right when he said those words, Kikwang came bursting into the restaurant again.

 “Sorry, I forgot my jacket,” he said, looking around the restaurant.

 “Here, you left it on the chair. Be careful next time, I don’t want you to lose your valuables!” I chirped, trying to force a smile.

 “Er...thanks,” he muttered, raising his brow in suspicion. “See you.” As soon as he left again, I smirked at Mr.Choi.

 “How was that for getting along?” I grinned. He cocked his head back and chuckled.

 “Alright, we’ll see how well you do for the next few weeks,” he smiled. “I’ll see you soon.” I waved goodbye and left the restaurant.

 I realized that I could be working at this place for two whole years. Two years of getting along with a douchebag – is that even possible?