Down.
Down.
Down to the depths, only to be met with the bottom of a glacier. It was unwilling to move. Stuck in one spot, doomed to chip away into tiny pieces. Much like me.
A final thought came to me moments before drifting off to death. What would have happened if I’d held the hand of the stranger with amber eyes just a bit tighter?
My entire life,the world had been far too overwhelming for me to handle. My anxiety had gotten better than when I was a kid, scared of my own shadow and everything around it. Still, it was too much sometimes. My skin didn’t let me forget it. A creeping, crawling itch tortured me more often than not most days.
I thought it would get better as I got older. It did for a long time. The itching got easier to manage, my anxiety wasn’t as suffocating, and the world seemed brighter with each moment I spent in the kitchen.
Shit changed. Shit just kept changing, the world on a constant rotation when I hardly had a handle on the current instructions.
Now, I had more responsibility than I ever wanted, and I was completely alone in it all. My job used to be my sanctuary; cooking being my haven. I didn’t have that anymore. Instead, I had Brandt-The-Rant who lived up to his name multiple times a day by yelling at me over shit that was completely out of my control and was meant to be in his. I traded cooking for daydreams of the act, left watching my staff do what I desperately wanted to.
The Arch had all my loyalty. I was too afraid to leave, terrified my lack of experience would only let me down. It was the only thing I had left. My skill was wasted in my position, used for teaching when all I wanted was to be taught.
Brandt left me with everything he was supposed to do. Scheduling, inventory, supplies, managing both kitchen and floor staff, menu additions… the list went on. I was fucking tired.
More than tired. I was itchy and lonely and fed the fuck up. Brandt was so detached from our craft that I wondered if he remembered what temperature water boiled at. I worked every day we were open, running every inch of the restaurant while he sat on his ass in the office, and Itook the brunt of his rage so my staff wouldn’t leave us in the dirt. With him around, it didn’t take long for people to quit. Just like Samantha.
I was never going to take another promotion again.
Brandt’s fingers snapped in my face, forcing me to pay attention. His face was a deep burgundy, almost matching the shade of an Aleppo pepper. “Were you even fucking listening?” he barked.
I forced an uncaring, borderline bored expression with my eyebrow raised. “I sure as fuck wasn’t.”
His left eyelid twitched, and I knew he was livid. “I’m not repeating that shit. I oughta write you a good one for insubordination.”
“Oh, please. Like you’d do that to the only person who somewhat deals with your shit.” He knew it, too. Without me, he’d be stuck without a paycheck from the owner, Matt. He’d be lost and helpless. “I got it, Brandt. Same shit, different day, and make sure Tobias steps it up or you’ll give him a one-way ticket to Get-the-Fuck-Out Land.”
“You better not fuck up, Iverson. I’ve got my eye on you.”
He stomped away, running off to his office. I didn’t know why he acted like he was going to get me fired. It wasn’t like he would or could. The guy just hated me, and the feeling was mutual.
My job was no longer the same job I loved eight years ago. It stressed me the fuck out and left me feeling lost. I had tried to raise the morale Brandt ruined, only to realize it was useless, just like my talent that had originally gotten me the job here.
I stopped right after my first and only friend quit and left me in the dust. Samantha couldn’t deal with the shitty management anymore, which apparently meant ghosting me as well. Five years of friendship didn’t mean enough, I guess.
Tiny prickles started at the inside of my forearm. I wanted to scratch at them. Wanted to peel back the skin and force them out. I thought back to the last time I went out, and the man in the motel lobby with arctic blue eyes, so sad and vacant.
He had stood near the doorway, seemingly frozen from all the ice within him. I ached to reach out, to touch the crystals on his skin. I saw him when the man I’d paid to sleep with had turned to the front counter clerk. He immediately overtook all five of my senses, forcing the world to revolve around him and him only. It was overwhelming in a different way—a calming way.
Thebruises on his face made me angry—something I didn’t feel often. An emotion I despised more than anything. His lip was busted and bleeding, the bags under his eyes were deep and purple, and a hollowness spoke to me from beneath the tundra in his gaze. He was the most hauntingly beautiful man I’d ever seen. A ghost in the doorway, lurking and waiting for something unseen. I wondered what evil soul had hurt him so bad, who could have done something so despicable.
Something in his eyes soothed the raging fire that constantly churned in my gut, begging me to peel myself open to break free. I wanted to go to him, warm him in my arms, whisper that everything would be okay because I’d make it okay. My heart would surely melt the ice that encased him.
The empty sadness in his eyes reminded me all too much of my mom, matching bruises following my father’s blood-stained knuckles.
I almost went to him. Almost lost my composure, which was out of character for me. It would’ve been an impulsive act—no plan, no agenda to stick to.
The itching beneath my skin begged for the cool touch of his. I couldn’t understand why my very soul was convinced he would be the answer to all my lonely, suffocating nights. I wanted to treat him gently, with the soft caresses I knew he deserved.
Nobody deserved pain.
Especially not him, who looked like he’d already been through a lifetime of it.
My sanity was slipping. I was losing more of myself as the day went on. Prep was as routine as it could be, something so mundane I could do it in my sleep if I had to. All my kitchen staff knew their stations, so after a rundown of the menu, they got started. I didn’t have to yell very much because everyone knew their purpose.
