Alpha Culinary Love

Jiyeon should have known it was going to be one of those days the moment she walked into the restaurant kitchen and heard Chef Kang shouting at the coffee machine like it had personally wronged his ancestors.

"You demonic, caffeine-spewing contraption!" Kang bellowed, his hands clenched into fists. "I'll dismantle you bolt by bolt and sell your parts to a thrift store if you don't start working!"

Jiyeon set down her bag, rubbing her temples. "Is he yelling at the coffee machine again?" she asked no one in particular.

Jisoo, who was attempting to clean a tray that had apparently been splattered with espresso, shrugged. "You'd think after the third time it flooded the counters and started steaming ominously, we'd get rid of it. But nope. Kang's determined to 'tame the beast.'"

Jiyeon raised an eyebrow. "Tame it? Is he planning to ride it into battle?"

Jisoo snickered, narrowly dodging a flying droplet of espresso. "At this point, I wouldn't be surprised. He talks to it more than he talks to me."

Kang turned to them, wild-eyed, and pointed an accusatory finger at the sputtering coffee machine. "This thing," he declared dramatically, "is alive. And it hates me."

Jiyeon crossed her arms, fighting a smile. "It's a coffee machine, not a vengeful spirit, Kang. Are you sure you haven't just been drinking too much of your own product and hallucinating?"

Kang narrowed his eyes at her. "Listen, Jiyeon, I know what I saw. The thing hissed at me when I tried to fix it."

Yura chose that moment to stroll in, her elegant heels clacking on the tile floor, and looked around at the chaos with her usual calm detachment. "Is there a reason our head chef is having a breakdown in front of kitchen equipment?" she asked dryly, her voice dripping with her trademark cool sarcasm.

Kang threw up his hands. "Mrs. CEO, this infernal contraption is plotting my downfall! It's sentient!"

Yura raised an eyebrow, looking mildly amused. "You do realize that if you lose to a coffee machine, we'll have to reconsider your job title, right?"

Kang groaned. "You're both against me. Fine. When it overthrows us all and declares itself the supreme ruler of Flavor of Seoul, don't come crying to me."

Jiyeon finally let herself laugh, the sound echoing off the stainless steel countertops. "Okay, okay, we'll figure out the coffee machine situation. But Kang, if it starts levitating, I'm calling an exorcist, not a mechanic."

He shot her a grateful look. "See? Finally, someone taking this seriously."

Just then, the coffee machine made a sputtering noise so loud and aggressive that everyone jumped. Jisoo let out a little shriek, clutching her soapy tray. The machine wheezed like a dying beast, then shot a jet of scalding water onto the floor, narrowly missing Seungmin's shoes.

Seungmin, who had just entered carrying a box of vegetables, yelped. "What the hell was that? Are we under attack?"

Jiyeon threw up her hands. "Great. Just great. It's bad enough the flour tried to kill us last week. Now we're being menaced by our own appliances."

Yura rolled her eyes. "I've got a business meeting in an hour, and I refuse to tell my clients that our head chef was defeated by a coffee machine."

Jiyeon snorted. "Oh, don't worry. We'll spin it. 'Flavor of Seoul: the restaurant where even our appliances have strong opinions.'"

Yura pinched the bridge of her nose, but the ghost of a smile played at her lips. "Sometimes I wonder how this place manages to stay standing."

"With pure, unfiltered chaos and just enough luck," Jiyeon shot back, "like a precarious Jenga tower held together by stress and caffeine."

The coffee machine spat out another defiant hiss, and Kang threw his towel down. "That's it. I'm calling an exorcist. Or maybe a sledgehammer."

Jiyeon patted him on the back. "Hey, let's not resort to violence. Yet. Maybe we can bribe it with better quality beans?"

Kang's eyes lit up with a mix of desperation and hope. "You think that could work?"

Yura looked between them, exasperated. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Jiyeon. Just buy a new coffee machine. Preferably one that won't become sentient and join a union."

"Fine, fine," Jiyeon said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "But I'll miss the drama this one brought into our lives."

Kang sighed. "I won't. I just want a peaceful kitchen for once."

Seungmin piped up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Peaceful? In this restaurant? Dream on, Chef."

And just like that, the kitchen erupted into laughter, each person taking turns to roast the stubborn machine and each other. Jiyeon wiped away tears of mirth, feeling a warmth that even the angry coffee machine couldn't dampen.

This was her chaotic, loud, and fiercely loyal family. And, for better or worse, she loved every second of it.

The laughter gradually died down, but the mischievous energy still lingered in the air like an invisible seasoning that spiced up everything in the Flavor of Seoul kitchen. Jiyeon leaned against the counter, catching her breath, as Kang retrieved his pride from the metaphorical dumpster the coffee machine had thrown it into.

"So," Jisoo said, nudging Seungmin with her elbow. "When are we filming 'Kitchen Nightmares: Coffee Machine Edition'?"

Seungmin grinned. "Right after we finish 'Chef Kang vs. The Haunted Toaster,' the sequel no one asked for."

"Don't even joke about that toaster," Kang interrupted, giving Seungmin a look that was half playful, half serious. "If it comes to life too, I'm retiring to a nice, peaceful farm where my biggest enemy will be sunburn."

Jiyeon shook her head, suppressing a grin. "Kang, you'd last five minutes on a farm. You'd start arguing with the cows about grazing patterns."

"Excuse me," Kang shot back, folding his arms. "Those cows would benefit from my wisdom. They've been eating grass wrong for decades."

Jisoo groaned. "And here we go. The Kang Ego Show, now featuring agricultural insights."

Yura, who had been scrolling through her phone with an air of calculated disinterest, finally put the device down and gave Jiyeon a long, appraising look. "Do you think this place could ever be normal?" she asked.

Jiyeon tilted her head, pretending to think it over. "Normal? Us? If this kitchen became normal, it would implode from the shock."

"I'm pretty sure the laws of physics wouldn't allow it," Seungmin chimed in, snickering.

Yura's gaze softened, though her expression remained cool. "Good point. Normality is overrated anyway." Her lips twitched upward in the barest hint of a smile. "But seriously, if I find out any more appliances in this kitchen are plotting against us, I'm issuing a recall notice."

Jiyeon crossed her heart. "I solemnly swear to keep our appliances in line. Maybe even take them to appliance therapy."

Yura gave her a look so dry it could have turned a lake into a desert. "Make sure you negotiate a group rate. It's clearly a widespread issue."

The staff dissolved into another round of laughter, and even Yura allowed herself to chuckle—a sound that Jiyeon had learned to treasure. Seeing the usually composed, icy CEO let her guard down was like glimpsing a rare flower that only bloomed under moonlight: fleeting, beautiful, and worth every bit of effort.

"Alright," Yura announced, clapping her hands to signal she was slipping back into her role as the stern CEO. "If the coffee machine revolution is under control, I have to head to that meeting. Don't burn down the kitchen while I'm gone."

"Burn it down?" Jiyeon asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Why would we do that when we could explode it instead? Way more dramatic."

Yura's gaze hardened, but there was a hint of amusement in her tone. "Jiyeon, if this restaurant explodes, I'm billing you for every penny."

Kang, finally back in the game after his mechanical defeat, puffed out his chest. "I'd like to see her try. Explosions are never my fault. Usually."

Yura turned on her heel, her voice trailing behind her as she exited. "Don't tempt me, Kang."

As the door swung shut behind Yura, Jiyeon found herself grinning. Her wife had a way of effortlessly commanding attention, even when she wasn't trying. Jiyeon could still smell Yura's faint strawberry-scented pheromones in the air, mingling with the rich aroma of the kitchen. For a moment, Jiyeon's heart softened. What a strange, wild life they were building together, one catastrophe at a time.

Seungmin's voice jolted her back to reality. "Earth to Jiyeon! Stop daydreaming about your wife and tell us what we're making for the lunch rush."

Jiyeon smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Jealous much, Seungmin?"

He clutched his chest, feigning a wound. "You caught me. Every night, I cry myself to sleep knowing I'll never be your muse."

"Please," Jisoo interjected. "No one here has time for your melodrama, Seungmin. Unless you're starring in a soap opera called 'The Bold and the Flavorless.'"

Kang, suddenly revitalized, banged his hands on the prep table. "Enough gossip! We've got orders coming in and chaos to maintain. Jisoo, start prepping the garlic and ginger. Seungmin, get those vegetables washed before they become self-aware like our beloved coffee machine. And Jiyeon, what's our special for today?"

Jiyeon pondered for a moment, tapping her chin. "How about… spicy kimchi pasta with crispy pork belly?"

Kang's eyes lit up, the same way they always did when a promising dish was proposed. "I can work with that. But if anyone complains about the heat, I'm sending them to therapy. For taste buds."

Jiyeon laughed, feeling the adrenaline of a new lunch service kick in. "Sounds good. Let's make this meal one to remember."

With the staff falling into their rhythm, the kitchen transformed into a dance of knives chopping, pans sizzling, and voices calling out orders. The earlier chaos with the coffee machine faded into a distant memory, replaced by the orchestra of a well-oiled, albeit slightly insane, culinary machine.

Jiyeon marveled at it all. Each member of the team brought their quirks, egos, and jokes into the mix, but somehow, it worked. It was messy and loud, but it was theirs.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

And just as she was about to turn her focus entirely on the dishes, the coffee machine let out one final, defiant gurgle.

Kang threw a spoon in its general direction. "I swear on all that is holy, one more sound and you're toast."

Jiyeon couldn't help but laugh. Yes, normal was overrated. Chaos, coffee machine rebellions, and all.