Chapter 586: On the Verge of Being Independent (1)
Chapter 586: On the Verge of Being Independent (1)
Parting is always a sad thing. A farewell accompanied by a bright smile and the promise of meeting again soon can only happen when there are no regrets or doubts. Kaya’s parting with Merlyn was far from this ideal.
Kaya placed a hand on Merlyn’s shoulder. Merlyn’s freckled face bore a rare, pure smile—a smile Kaya herself never wore. She could never smile so innocently in such a moment.
“I’m sorry it ended like this, Chef.”
“You don’t have to call me that. Don’t be so formal.”
“I’m not being formal. I call you ‘Chef’ because I respect you. I want to be a chef like you.”
Kaya looked at her silently. The words “I’m sorry” hovered on her tongue. Why was she sorry for Merlyn? Because she had failed to make up for what Merlyn lacked? Wasn’t it supposed to be her job from the start? After all, she only needed to give hints, not teach outright.
Kaya did her best, though not as much as Minjoon or Joseph did for their teams.
Why am I angry now?
Was it because she couldn’t surpass Minjoon? Or because she hadn’t helped Merlyn enough? She felt frustrated with herself for asking such selfish questions—proof of her own arrogance.
She stroked Merlyn’s innocent, youthful cheeks.
She feared the passage of time. Her heart, once full of passion and ambition, now yielded to fear and helplessness.
“When I see you next, I hope it’s as a chef.”
“If I work hard, can I become like you, Kaya?”
“Don’t try to be like me. I’m just a lucky fool. Not that great.”
“I don’t like you because you’re a great chef,” Merlyn smiled. “I like you because, apart from that, you’re cool. I respect you, so I like you, and I will…”
Kaya was at a loss for words. It felt like the first time since meeting Minjoon that she encountered such pure admiration.
Merlyn blushed, slightly embarrassed. “Like you said, I’m going to be a great chef.”
“Give me your phone.”
“My phone?”
With a shy smile, Merlyn held it out. Kaya entered her number and called it. Her phone rang.
Calmly, Kaya said, “Call me if you have questions—about cooking or anything. I’ll help as much as I can.”
“Oh, you’re giving me your number?”
“Sure,” Kaya replied with a stiff smile. “Call whenever you want.”
Despite the stiffness, Merlyn was ecstatic. Her joy was so genuine that those around wondered how she could be so happy even having lost. She seemed happier now than she would have been winning.
Merlyn’s reaction comforted Kaya but did not dispel her gloom. Since returning to New York, Kaya had felt unsettled. Chloe noticed but was too embarrassed to ask, and Kaya never explained—perhaps to preserve her pride.
On the evening of her second day back, Kaya took an unusually long shower. When she emerged in a gown, the scent of soap was nearly gone, but shampoo’s lavender fragrance lingered gently.
Minjoon rested his cheek on her damp hair—it felt cold, like her expression.
He gently brushed and pinched her face.
She looked as though she might cry but remained still.
Finally, she said, “I just realised something.”
“About what?”
“I was upset over Merlyn’s elimination not because of her failure, but because I couldn’t accept that I’m still lacking so much.”
“Do you think that far?”
“I was excited before,” she said angrily. “When we gave feedback as Jotus Guide representatives, people admired us. The early days at Irregular Lab were tough, but later everyone praised me for being brave and fresh. They called it ‘young blood’ in me. Six Meat was praised too. I’m still making good money selling it.”
“So do you think all their praise was just empty words?”
“It doesn’t matter how they see me. It doesn’t matter if their praise was inflated.”
Kaya turned away, frustrated. But Minjoon thought her eyes were beautiful, even different now. He longed for those eyes that made her look so cool.
“I misunderstood myself.”
“How?”
“I thought I’d achieved everything,” she said sarcastically. “That it was time to harvest rather than sow. Ridiculous. I wrongly believed I’d climbed to the top just because of praise when I’d barely started.”
Minjoon held no blame. Many people valued them more than they deserved. Both knew they weren’t as great as others thought, considering the excess praise.
No wonder they sometimes felt arrogant or complacent.
“So what will you do now?”
“I’m thinking.”
She searched his eyes as if for an answer, then rested her forehead on his shoulder.
Irregular Lab.
She hid her face shyly.
“Should I quit?”
He didn’t answer. It was a difficult question. Irregular Lab had many strengths and weaknesses.
It was the perfect stage for Kaya to show her cooking genius, but as proven at the Grand Chef competition, she hadn’t cultivated the kitchen leadership she needed as head chef.
Yet she couldn’t help wanting to have her own kitchen rather than lead a team.
Minjoon lacked kitchen leadership too. She needed someone with broader vision.
At that moment, June asked, “If you quit Irregular Lab, what will you do?”
“I guess I’ll look for a job at a regular restaurant.”
“You mean a sous chef’s job?”
Kaya hesitated. Though Irregular Lab was relatively small, it was a high-end restaurant praised by gourmets.
Naturally, she’d feel empty taking a sous chef role now.
But that wasn’t her main issue.
“I think you’ll struggle as a sous chef.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’d do well at an ordinary restaurant, but what could you learn there? The head chef might not be better than you. If someone recommended hiring you, I wouldn’t give you the job immediately. Why? Because you lack experience leading a kitchen staff.”
Kaya couldn’t deny it.
Seizing the moment, June added, “Winning the Grand Chef was a blessing and a barrier. Afterward, you stuck in a managerial or nominal head chef role. Then, you went on working trips, and finally opened Irregular Lab—wise, as you brought out your best there.”