Alpha Culinary Love

The evening air outside The Rose Manor was crisp, cutting through the warmth that still lingered from the bustle of the restaurant's kitchen. Jiyeon stepped out for a moment, feeling the breeze on her face and taking in the rare quiet. It had been a rollercoaster of a day, filled with Kang's dramatic sighs and Yura's deadpan comebacks, and she had almost forgotten what calm felt like.

Of course, the serenity lasted all of three seconds.

"Jiyeon!" Kang burst through the door, looking flustered, with an expression that screamed "brace yourself." His apron was stained, hair slightly tousled from the whirlwind inside, and he held what could only be described as a butchered attempt at plating. "Explain this monstrosity."

Jiyeon squinted at the disaster in his hands: a pile of ingredients that looked like they'd lost the will to live. "Did you feed that to a blender before bringing it here?"

Kang scowled. "Excuse me, Chef Genius, but this was your idea. Your fusion recipe is cursed."

Yura, who had followed Kang out, leaned against the doorframe, arms folded and a smirk playing at her lips. "Looks like you've finally met your match, Kang. A dish that doesn't bow to your superiority complex."

"Oh, shut up," Kang grumbled. "At least I don't use the kitchen as a stage to perform 'Miracle Worker' every time I touch an oven. Jiyeon's Frankenstein fusion is the real criminal here."

Jiyeon couldn't hold back her laughter. "Come on, it's not that bad. Besides, you're the one who calls himself an artist. What happened to the art of making things work?"

"Right," Kang snapped back, "and what happened to basic respect for culinary norms? Mixing gochujang and foie gras is like throwing a punch at French tradition."

Yura perked up. "Oh, please. Tradition needs a good punch every once in a while. Keeps it on its toes."

Kang ran a hand through his hair, looking thoroughly exasperated. "Remind me again why I'm here, dealing with culinary chaos and you two lunatics?"

Yura tilted her head, faux-innocent. "Because, deep down, you love us?"

"Hah," Kang snorted. "Love, you say? More like a strange addiction to self-torture."

Jiyeon took a deep breath, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. "Okay, okay. How about this: let's rescue that plate, and if it turns out even remotely edible, I'll buy you that expensive coffee you won't shut up about. Deal?"

Kang narrowed his eyes. "Make it a month's worth, and I might be tempted."

Before Jiyeon could respond, Yura cut in with a laugh. "Kang, if you milked any more perks from us, you'd be a full-time freeloader."

"Freeloader?" Kang shot back, feigning offense. "If anything, I'm your culinary savior. Without me, this place would descend into chaos. Admit it."

Yura rolled her eyes. "Savior, my ass. More like a diva who occasionally gets things right."

Jiyeon raised a hand. "Enough! Both of you. Let's focus on getting through tonight, and then we can continue your award-winning sitcom back at the mansion."

That was enough to temporarily truce the bickering, and they all made their way back into the kitchen, the air buzzing with tension and laughter. The restaurant pulsed with energy, and Jiyeon knew that despite the madness, there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

Two hours later, The Rose Manor was winding down. The last of the guests had been served, and the trio found themselves back in the now-messy kitchen, surrounded by empty pots, spatulas, and a lingering aroma of the evening's successful — and occasionally chaotic — experiments. Yura leaned against a counter, watching as Jiyeon and Kang attempted to assess the damage.

"Well, I think we survived," Jiyeon said, surveying the mess. "No fires, no fainting customers. I'd call that a win."

Kang groaned, tossing a towel aside. "Barely. I'm convinced that half the diners were only polite out of pure shock."

Yura snorted. "Or because they were afraid you'd come out and lecture them on proper tasting technique."

Jiyeon smirked. "He does have that effect." Read exclusive content at empire

Kang raised an eyebrow. "You know what, I don't have to stand here and take this abuse. I'm leaving." He turned dramatically, only to pause mid-step. "But first, someone better promise me dinner. Proper dinner."

Yura deadpanned. "You're demanding dinner from us? After all that coffee extortion?"

"Oh, shut up, Yura. One more insult and I'll cook something you'll regret." Kang turned his glare on Jiyeon. "And you! If you even think about more fusion dishes, I'm putting you on dish duty."

Jiyeon pretended to consider this. "Hmm. Or, I could double down and make a gochujang-infused tiramisu next time."

Kang looked like he might faint. "That's it. We're done. I'm resigning."

Yura's laughter rang out, and even Jiyeon had to admit the mental image of Kang dramatically quitting was hilarious. Despite the teasing and the chaos, she couldn't shake the warmth that filled her chest. Even when the insults flew and egos clashed, they made the perfect team.

And for the first time in a long while, Jiyeon felt at peace — as if every challenge was worth it just to share these moments, laughter and all.

As the laughter ebbed and the kitchen fell into a quiet lull, Jiyeon leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms overhead. The ache from a long day's work made itself known, her muscles groaning in protest. "I swear," she said, voice trailing off with the fatigue that only the tail end of a busy evening could bring, "if I ever see another sous vide machine, I'm throwing it off a cliff."

Kang snorted. "Drama queen. We both know you'd never abandon your precious gadgets. You treat them better than you treat us."

Jiyeon gave him a flat look. "At least my gadgets don't complain about my cooking being 'a culinary violation of nature' every other day."

"Hey," Kang shot back, his spoon pausing mid-air, "that fusion kimchi ravioli was a crime. I'm still convinced you violated at least three international treaties with that one."

Yura, who had been sipping from a steaming mug of ginger tea, interjected with a faux-serious expression. "I did hear something about Italy filing a complaint. You might need to lay low for a while, Jiyeon."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Jiyeon held her hands up in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. Next time, I'll stick to boring, traditional dishes and spare your delicate sensibilities."

Kang sniffed. "You say that, but you're already thinking of ways to stuff foie gras into tteokbokki, aren't you?"

A guilty grin spread across Jiyeon's face, and Yura burst out laughing again, her laughter rich and infectious. Jiyeon watched her, heart swelling with a quiet affection that always took her by surprise. For someone who was supposed to be an unfeeling, business-minded tyrant, Yura had a laugh that could light up the darkest corners of Jiyeon's soul.

The sound of a phone vibrating on the counter broke the moment. Yura groaned, slumping forward as if the weight of her responsibilities had just descended on her again. "Please tell me that's not work," she mumbled, head in her hands.

Kang raised an eyebrow. "That better not be another crisis. If it is, I'm barricading myself in the wine cellar until morning."

Jiyeon grabbed the phone, glancing at the caller ID. "Relax, it's just my mom."

Yura sat up, relief washing over her face. "Oh, good. For a second there, I thought I was about to lose you both to some emergency culinary apocalypse."

"Trust me, my mom is plenty of an emergency," Jiyeon said with a wry smile. She hesitated for a moment, then clicked to answer. "Hey, Mom."

On the other end of the line, her mother's voice was warm but lined with that ever-familiar note of worry. "Jiyeon! Are you still up working? You know you need rest."

Jiyeon leaned back in her chair, her lips quirking into a small, fond smile. "Yes, Mom, I'm just winding down. We had a busy evening, but it's under control."

Her mother's disapproving cluck was audible even through the phone. "You're working too hard. Your father and I worry, you know. When are you coming to visit us again? We miss you."

Kang mimed gagging in the background, earning himself a playful swat on the arm from Yura. Jiyeon, trying to suppress a grin, answered, "Soon, I promise. I'll bring Yura along, and we'll make a day of it. You can lecture both of us about work-life balance."

Her mother's voice softened. "Good, good. And make sure to eat properly, dear. I don't want to hear about you collapsing from exhaustion."

"I'm eating just fine," Jiyeon said, eyeing the empty stew bowl in front of her. "Actually, I just finished a huge meal."

"Is that Kang in the background?" her mom continued, catching on to the faint sounds of their chef friend's antics. "Tell him I'm still waiting on that kimchi recipe he promised me."

Kang perked up at the mention of his name, calling out, "Mrs. Lee! I'll get it to you soon, I swear. Your kimchi is legendary. I'm just trying to make sure mine doesn't pale in comparison."

Jiyeon rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay, Mom, I'll call you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you too, Jiyeon. Take care of yourself," her mother said, and the call ended.

Yura tilted her head, her expression softening. "Your mom's always so sweet. Hard to believe she raised a menace like you."

Jiyeon put a hand over her heart in mock offense. "How dare you. I'm the pinnacle of filial devotion."

Kang snorted. "Yeah, right. I bet you gave your parents grief every day of your childhood."

"Only every other day," Jiyeon shot back, and they all laughed, the sound filling the kitchen and mingling with the night air.

Yura's gaze turned thoughtful, her eyes glinting under the soft overhead light. "Speaking of parents, when are we actually going to do that visit? It's been a while since I've had your mom's homemade japchae. Not to mention, I want to hear more about the embarrassing stories she has of your teenage years."

Jiyeon groaned. "Ugh, don't encourage her. She still has the photo album of my awkward haircut phase."

Kang raised his hands. "I, for one, would pay good money to see that. Jiyeon, the terror of the kitchen, reduced to a dorky teenager? Sign me up."

Jiyeon glared at him. "Traitor."

Yura leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell you what, Kang. We'll make it a double feature. Awkward photos and a cooking challenge where you have to use Jiyeon's family's ancient rice cooker."

Jiyeon's eyes widened in horror. "Not the rice cooker! It's possessed, I swear."

The room burst into laughter again, and Jiyeon couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come. From business transactions and obligation to something that felt so much more — full of laughter, genuine camaraderie, and yes, even insults that masked a deep, unshakeable bond.