Alpha Culinary Love

As the clock ticked past midnight, Flavor of Seoul was a whirlwind of organized (mostly) chaos. The last of the guests were trickling out, their laughter and satisfied sighs blending with the clinking of dishes and the hum of closing-time routines. Jiyeon wiped sweat from her brow and sank into a stool, exhaustion weighing down her limbs.

Kang, who was scrubbing down the last of the pots, flashed her a grin that could only be described as villainous. "You look like someone stuffed you into the dishwasher, Jiyeon. Need me to call a tow truck to wheel you home?"

Jiyeon shot him a look that could have curdled cream. "Very funny, Kang. Remind me to revoke your access to all truffle-related privileges."

Kang feigned a gasp. "Not the truffles! You'd deprive your hardworking sous-chef of life's only joy?"

"Keep pushing your luck, and you'll be working double shifts to atone," Jiyeon quipped, but the corners of her mouth twitched with a smile.

Yura appeared from the back office, her hair slightly mussed and her blouse crinkled—clear signs she'd been doing battle with the accounting software. "Did someone mention double shifts?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I think Jiyeon's gone soft on you, Kang. You should be scrubbing the floors with a toothbrush for that lobster incident alone."

Kang rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Mrs. CEO. That lobster had it out for us. It was practically armed and dangerous."

"Armed?" Yura echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't know crustaceans had a secret weapons cache. Maybe next time, we'll see them wielding shrimp-sized pitchforks."

Jiyeon snorted, finally giving in to laughter. "Don't give them ideas. Knowing our luck, we'll end up on the front page for 'Hostage Crisis at Flavor of Seoul: Chef Defeated by Angry Shellfish.'"

Yura smirked. "At least it would drive up social media engagement."

Jisoo poked her head out from the pantry, a bag of rice in her hands and a devilish grin on her face. "Or we could stage a reenactment for TikTok. 'When Dinner Fights Back,' starring our fearless Chef Lee."

Jiyeon groaned. "You're all terrible influences. Maybe I should just open a bakery. Cakes don't plot rebellions."

Kang tossed his dish towel over his shoulder and gave her a skeptical look. "Oh, please. If you opened a bakery, the croissants would start a union and demand better working conditions. Face it, Jiyeon, you attract culinary chaos."

Jiyeon threw up her hands in mock surrender. "Fine. Maybe chaos is my brand. But if any of you start siding with the produce, I'm throwing you out along with the overripe tomatoes."

Yura chuckled, leaning against the counter beside Jiyeon. "Speaking of chaos, we still have that special event next week. The one with the high-profile guests who are apparently obsessed with your truffle-infused dishes."

Jiyeon's shoulders slumped further. "Please tell me we're not serving anything that has a mind of its own."

Yura patted her on the back. "Don't worry. I made sure the menu is sabotage-proof. Unless the truffles start singing show tunes, we should be fine."

Kang's eyes lit up with mischief. "Now there's an idea. Singing truffles. We could corner the market on musical fine dining experiences."

Jisoo reemerged, looking delighted. "Imagine the reviews: 'An unforgettable experience where your food serenades you before it's devoured.'"

Jiyeon groaned louder, burying her face in her hands. "You're all deranged. Completely, utterly deranged."

Yura laughed, the sound warm and melodic, and pressed a kiss to Jiyeon's temple. "Maybe, but you love us anyway."

"Questionable," Jiyeon muttered, though her smile gave her away. She leaned into Yura's touch, savoring the brief moment of quiet amidst the laughter and absurdity.

But the peace was short-lived. A clatter came from the back kitchen, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone swearing creatively. Jiyeon's head shot up, eyes narrowing. "What now?"

One of the junior cooks, an Omega named Seungmin, stumbled out, looking sheepish. "Uh, Chef… you know that stack of flour bags in the storeroom?"

Jiyeon's heart sank. "Yes…?"

Seungmin winced. "It sort of… collapsed. And now there's a flour avalanche."

Jiyeon closed her eyes, praying for patience she didn't have. "Of course there is. Why wouldn't there be?"

Yura patted her shoulder again, this time with sympathy. "Looks like your bakery idea is starting early. Just think of it as a head start."

Kang cackled. "We could always call it 'Flavor of Seoul: The Great Flour Fiasco.'"

Jiyeon sighed. "Alright, let's go dig out the kitchen. And if any of you make one more flour pun, I'm banning you from carbs for a week."

Kang made a zipping motion over his mouth, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. As the staff scrambled to handle yet another disaster, Jiyeon couldn't help but shake her head, half-amused, half-exasperated.

Just another day in the culinary warzone. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Jiyeon took a deep breath and walked toward the back kitchen, where the "Great Flour Fiasco" awaited her. Her sneakers crunched over the fine dusting of flour that had already begun to drift into the main kitchen like an ominous snowstorm.

"Okay," Jiyeon announced, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. A small cloud of flour puffed into the air around her, making her look like she was performing a disappearing act. "Who's ready to clean up a disaster of apocalyptic proportions?"

Jisoo raised a hand like an eager student. "Ooh! I love apocalyptic cleanup duty. It builds character."

Jiyeon gave her a flat look. "I'd love to see that character development happen somewhere that doesn't involve me."

Jisoo laughed, but then her expression turned serious. "Don't worry, Chef. We'll have this place looking spotless before you can say 'traumatic flour avalanche.'"

"I'm holding you to that," Jiyeon replied, even as she mentally prepared for the colossal cleanup job. Stepping into the storeroom, she was greeted by the sight of flour bags splayed out in every direction. A thick blanket of white powder covered the floor, shelves, and—somehow—the ceiling. It looked like a deranged baker's idea of a winter wonderland.

Kang stepped in beside her, taking one look at the mess and shaking his head in disbelief. "I've seen horror movies less terrifying than this."

Jiyeon groaned. "Don't remind me. The flour bags look like they've been massacred by some kind of gluten-loving serial killer."

"I think I found the murder weapon," Jisoo quipped, pointing to a rolling pin lying innocently in the wreckage. "Do we have enough evidence to charge it?"

Jiyeon shot her a half-hearted glare. "Enough with the crime scene jokes. If this flour finds its way into the vents, we'll be dealing with a flour blizzard every time we turn on the air conditioning."

Yura poked her head in, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. "Wow. When Seungmin said 'avalanche,' I didn't think he meant an actual one. This looks like the aftermath of a flour bomb explosion."

Seungmin, who had been sheepishly sweeping up the mess, winced. "Sorry, Chef. I swear I only tapped one bag, and then… gravity did the rest."

Jiyeon put her hands on her hips, trying to stifle a laugh. "I'm starting to think this kitchen is cursed. First the rebellious lobster, now this."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Kang raised an eyebrow. "What's next? Sentient soup stock that plots our demise?"

"Shut up before you manifest it into reality," Jiyeon shot back, but she couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. This crew, despite the chaos and disaster they seemed to attract, made everything feel a little more bearable.

Yura crossed her arms and surveyed the mess with the practiced gaze of a CEO assessing a damage report. "Okay, how about this? Whoever cleans the most flour by the end of the hour gets a week off from dish duty."

Kang's eyes lit up with motivation. "Now that's what I call a real incentive. You're on, Mrs. CEO."

Jisoo immediately began sweeping with more fervor than Jiyeon had ever seen. "Prepare to eat my dust—well, flour dust, I guess. Victory will be mine!"

Seungmin perked up, too, clearly eager to redeem himself. "I'm in! This disaster will be ancient history by the time I'm done with it."

Jiyeon watched them all hustle, shaking her head in amused disbelief. It was hard to stay frustrated when her team managed to make even the worst mess feel like some sort of impromptu game show. With a resigned smile, she grabbed a broom and joined the fray.

"Alright, you over-enthusiastic maniacs," Jiyeon called out. "Let's clean this up before the flour starts forming its own civilization."

Kang snorted. "I'm pretty sure it already has. The Flour Republic of Seoul, with a population of 'too many crumbs.'"

Jiyeon laughed, a full, belly-deep laugh that made her feel lighter, even with exhaustion gnawing at her bones. This was her family, in all its flour-dusted, ridiculous glory. And in that moment, covered in flour and surrounded by playful insults, she wouldn't have changed a thing.

Yura caught Jiyeon's eye, a warm smile softening her usually cool demeanor. "I think you've built something pretty incredible here, you know," she said quietly.

Jiyeon paused, heart skipping a beat. "Yeah?" she asked, her voice just a touch uncertain.

Yura's smile widened. "Yeah. Even if you do attract chaos like a magnet."

"Hey," Jiyeon shot back, her voice teasing. "You married this chaos, remember?"

Yura tilted her head, considering. "True. Maybe I'm just as bad, then."

"Definitely," Jiyeon replied, her grin stretching wide. "And that's why you fit right in."