DJ got me falling in love- Fifteen
Right. Game on.
"He said I don't eat and drink like a girl, I mean, come on! What era is he living in? The Victorian age? Should I stuff myself up in a corset every time I go out?"
The handphone pressed to your ear is getting a tad heated up from the hour long conversation with Shinae. Or rather, a full on one-sided rant to your best friend.
"I still can't believe you agreed to this though... Seriously, a promise between grandmothers?"
You can just imagine her rolling her eyes right now.
"I know, I know... But... " You haven't mentioned the part about Youngjae's surgery fees to her. "It's only temporary. There's also the recipe that I'm supposed to learn at the end of the month and that might actually be my ticket to a faster way out?"
"So you're going to botch up the test?" Shinae gasps. "But being the successor to Provence bakery is actually one of the better parts to this deal, in my opinion."
You sigh.
"I have no particular interest in taking over their business, though. Not when I'm supposed to work with that guy..."
"You seriously have no feelings for him? Not even one tiny weeny bit?"
"No."
Your tone is dead firm.
"That's too bad, because he's actually kind of rich and handsome..."
"And gay." You finish off her sentence.
Shinae puffs.
"He might be bisexual, for all you know."
"Not my business."
"It should be, since you're in the paparazzi business."
Ugh, trust her for using that as a handle against you.
You are constructing your retort when there's an incoming call.
"Hey, I've got an incoming, will talk to you later..."
"Yah, yah, stay safe ok?"
"I know, bye."
You slide on the screen and takes the call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Ga-eun ssi?"
Madam Park?
"Oh, hello Madam Park." You greet respectfully.
"How are you settling in?" She asks, sounding as kindly as ever.
Besides having a miserly, bossy idiot and gay-who-might-become-your-husband irritating the hell out of you? Everything's just fine, you want to say. But you hold yourself back.
"Everything's fine." You mutter.
"I guess it is. Both Kyungie and you said the exact same thing." She gives a knowing chuckle.
He did? Looks like there's two liars in the house then.
"I'm sorry I didn't come by this weekend, Ga-eun ssi. I was at the hospital."
Your ears prick up in concern.
"But of course, you are not going to tell Kyungie that, are you? It's our little secret." She whispers, tone impish, over the phone.
"I won't. But... Why aren't you telling him?"
The old lady sighs.
"Kyungie is a worrier, Ga-eun ssi. And I don't want him to be burdened. He might not say it outright, but he cares a lot for the people around him. It'd take some time, but you'd see that, I'm sure."
Oh, you are definitely sure it's going to take a lot of time.
"I heard he hasn't taught you how to bake the Provence baguette yet?"
Oh.
You gulp.
"Erm... About that..."
"Don't worry about it, just do your best ok? For me?"
Somehow, there's something in her tone that makes you unable to refuse.
"Y-Yeah."
______________
When you trudge down the stairs past Kyungsoo's room, you see the deejay hunched over his desk, writing something.
"Erm..." You clear your throat. "Madam Park said you'd... Teach me the recipe."
Kyungsoo glances up briefly and mumbles, "Yeah, I got it. Wait."
What is that even... Urgh.
You slouch into the grey couch and picks up a stray magazine, flipping through it mindlessly as you wait.
After a couple of minutes, you hear the legs of his chair scrapping across the floor and the deejay stands, leaving his room to cross over to you.
"Here."
He hands you a slip of paper.
You read the note.
It's the recipe for the baguette, written in neat, delicate handwriting.
"You can read instructions, can't you? All the ingredients are available in the kitchen. If you need anymore, you know where's the nearest grocery shop." With that, the male ambles back into his room and plops into his chair, stuffing both ears with earphones.
What?
He's just going to sit there? Oh, so he thinks you can't do it without his help?
You are so going to prove him wrong.
_____________
The fact is the number of times you've tried baking is countable on one hand.
And that's only because you help out in the kitchen during your stay in the children's shelter.
You've never actually tried baking on your own.
It shouldn't be difficult?
Measuring out the flour and salt, you dump them together with the yeast and warm water in a mixer and switches it on.
The machine jolts into action and you watch in fascination as the mixture blends together. However, your awe quickly morphs into panic when the mixing bowl starts jumping like it's going to cough up the mixture and you desperately hold on to the bowl.
After several moments, the mixer steadies again, much to your relief.
Dusting the wooden board with flour, you knead the dough for a few minutes, wondering whether it's supposed to be so sticky, then transferring it aside to rise.
When the dough fattens to twice its size a few hours later, you flatten and roll them into smaller pieces before putting it into the preheated oven.
For the first ten minutes, you stand before the oven, watching the dough anxiously.
Why isn't it rising?
Did I do it correctly?
At the first signs of the dough rising, you sigh in exhilaration and retreats to the couch to sit down and watch some television.
Ten minutes later, you return to the kitchen and frown as you notice the bread doesn't look as plump as the ones you see in bakeries.
Nevertheless, when the oven pings! to indicate it's done, you retrieve the baguettes from the oven and places them on the cooling rack. The smell of piping hot bread floods the air.
You poise, hands on hip in front of your creation and mentally congratulates yourself. At least it looks edible.
"So you are done?"
You whip around to find the deejay strolling towards you.
"Obviously."
Kyungsoo lets out a half sniff from the haughty tone in your reply.
When he sees the baguettes though, he lifts an eyebrow.
"What?" You bark.
"These... Aren't baguettes."
"What, are you blind? Of course they are!" You throw a limp hand at the pieces of bread.
"No, they aren't." He shakes his head lamely. "Nice try though, for a first."
He makes to walk away and you huff angrily after him.
"Well if you're so good at it, I'd like to see you do it."
Crossing your arms, you watch as he slowly turns around and blinks once.
"I've been doing this for the past ten years of my life. I don't see any need of proving myself to anybody. You, on the other hand, have all things at stake here and at this rate, I think it's safe to say you'll be leaving this house at the end of the month."
The deejay holds your infuriated gaze for a while before he leaves again.
"I'll prove you wrong." You declare.
It isn't so much about keeping the promise anymore. It's your pride at stake here. And Choi Ga-eun, for the past 24 years of your life, has never failed at something you put your heart into doing.
Kyungsoo doesn't turn around this time.
"Suit yourself."
Right.
Game on.
Chapter 16
"He said I don't eat and drink like a girl, I mean, come on! What era is he living in? The Victorian age? Should I stuff myself up in a corset every time I go out?"
The handphone pressed to your ear is getting a tad heated up from the hour long conversation with Shinae. Or rather, a full on one-sided rant to your best friend.
"I still can't believe you agreed to this though... Seriously, a promise between grandmothers?"
You can just imagine her rolling her eyes right now.
"I know, I know... But... " You haven't mentioned the part about Youngjae's surgery fees to her. "It's only temporary. There's also the recipe that I'm supposed to learn at the end of the month and that might actually be my ticket to a faster way out?"
"So you're going to botch up the test?" Shinae gasps. "But being the successor to Provence bakery is actually one of the better parts to this deal, in my opinion."
You sigh.
"I have no particular interest in taking over their business, though. Not when I'm supposed to work with that guy..."
"You seriously have no feelings for him? Not even one tiny weeny bit?"
"No."
Your tone is dead firm.
"That's too bad, because he's actually kind of rich and handsome..."
"And gay." You finish off her sentence.
Shinae puffs.
"He might be bisexual, for all you know."
"Not my business."
"It should be, since you're in the paparazzi business."
Ugh, trust her for using that as a handle against you.
You are constructing your retort when there's an incoming call.
"Hey, I've got an incoming, will talk to you later..."
"Yah, yah, stay safe ok?"
"I know, bye."
You slide on the screen and takes the call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Ga-eun ssi?"
Madam Park?
"Oh, hello Madam Park." You greet respectfully.
"How are you settling in?" She asks, sounding as kindly as ever.
Besides having a miserly, bossy idiot and gay-who-might-become-your-husband irritating the hell out of you? Everything's just fine, you want to say. But you hold yourself back.
"Everything's fine." You mutter.
"I guess it is. Both Kyungie and you said the exact same thing." She gives a knowing chuckle.
He did? Looks like there's two liars in the house then.
"I'm sorry I didn't come by this weekend, Ga-eun ssi. I was at the hospital."
Your ears prick up in concern.
"But of course, you are not going to tell Kyungie that, are you? It's our little secret." She whispers, tone impish, over the phone.
"I won't. But... Why aren't you telling him?"
The old lady sighs.
"Kyungie is a worrier, Ga-eun ssi. And I don't want him to be burdened. He might not say it outright, but he cares a lot for the people around him. It'd take some time, but you'd see that, I'm sure."
Oh, you are definitely sure it's going to take a lot of time.
"I heard he hasn't taught you how to bake the Provence baguette yet?"
Oh.
You gulp.
"Erm... About that..."
"Don't worry about it, just do your best ok? For me?"
Somehow, there's something in her tone that makes you unable to refuse.
"Y-Yeah."
______________
When you trudge down the stairs past Kyungsoo's room, you see the deejay hunched over his desk, writing something.
"Erm..." You clear your throat. "Madam Park said you'd... Teach me the recipe."
Kyungsoo glances up briefly and mumbles, "Yeah, I got it. Wait."
What is that even... Urgh.
You slouch into the grey couch and picks up a stray magazine, flipping through it mindlessly as you wait.
After a couple of minutes, you hear the legs of his chair scrapping across the floor and the deejay stands, leaving his room to cross over to you.
"Here."
He hands you a slip of paper.
You read the note.
It's the recipe for the baguette, written in neat, delicate handwriting.
"You can read instructions, can't you? All the ingredients are available in the kitchen. If you need anymore, you know where's the nearest grocery shop." With that, the male ambles back into his room and plops into his chair, stuffing both ears with earphones.
What?
He's just going to sit there? Oh, so he thinks you can't do it without his help?
You are so going to prove him wrong.
_____________
The fact is the number of times you've tried baking is countable on one hand.
And that's only because you help out in the kitchen during your stay in the children's shelter.
You've never actually tried baking on your own.
It shouldn't be difficult?
Measuring out the flour and salt, you dump them together with the yeast and warm water in a mixer and switches it on.
The machine jolts into action and you watch in fascination as the mixture blends together. However, your awe quickly morphs into panic when the mixing bowl starts jumping like it's going to cough up the mixture and you desperately hold on to the bowl.
After several moments, the mixer steadies again, much to your relief.
Dusting the wooden board with flour, you knead the dough for a few minutes, wondering whether it's supposed to be so sticky, then transferring it aside to rise.
When the dough fattens to twice its size a few hours later, you flatten and roll them into smaller pieces before putting it into the preheated oven.
For the first ten minutes, you stand before the oven, watching the dough anxiously.
Why isn't it rising?
Did I do it correctly?
At the first signs of the dough rising, you sigh in exhilaration and retreats to the couch to sit down and watch some television.
Ten minutes later, you return to the kitchen and frown as you notice the bread doesn't look as plump as the ones you see in bakeries.
Nevertheless, when the oven pings! to indicate it's done, you retrieve the baguettes from the oven and places them on the cooling rack. The smell of piping hot bread floods the air.
You poise, hands on hip in front of your creation and mentally congratulates yourself. At least it looks edible.
"So you are done?"
You whip around to find the deejay strolling towards you.
"Obviously."
Kyungsoo lets out a half sniff from the haughty tone in your reply.
When he sees the baguettes though, he lifts an eyebrow.
"What?" You bark.
"These... Aren't baguettes."
"What, are you blind? Of course they are!" You throw a limp hand at the pieces of bread.
"No, they aren't." He shakes his head lamely. "Nice try though, for a first."
He makes to walk away and you huff angrily after him.
"Well if you're so good at it, I'd like to see you do it."
Crossing your arms, you watch as he slowly turns around and blinks once.
"I've been doing this for the past ten years of my life. I don't see any need of proving myself to anybody. You, on the other hand, have all things at stake here and at this rate, I think it's safe to say you'll be leaving this house at the end of the month."
The deejay holds your infuriated gaze for a while before he leaves again.
"I'll prove you wrong." You declare.
It isn't so much about keeping the promise anymore. It's your pride at stake here. And Choi Ga-eun, for the past 24 years of your life, has never failed at something you put your heart into doing.
Kyungsoo doesn't turn around this time.
"Suit yourself."
Right.
Game on.
Chapter 16