A Tasty Performance (3)

A golden sheen in the shape of a half moon. Specks of black and green accenting its texture. Bits of brown and red surrounded in a white embrace, oozing out the sides. Yes, this was an average omelet – not even close to perfect. But for a hotel restaurant, it was more than good enough.

“Please, take a bite,” I said, holding out the plate in one hand and two forks in the other. Maeva’s father immediately took a fork, cutting off a small slice of the omelet. Maeva, meanwhile, seemed a bit more hesitant, observing her piece with a bit of skepticism.

“Are you sure it’ll taste good? It looks like my dad’s.”

“What kind of judge judges before testing the taste? Looks can be deceiving; don’t knock it before you try.”

“Like I always tell you Maeva, you need to try everything once.”

“Err… fine.”

Both of them, one more eager than the other, ate the omelet.

The string instruments played a tense rhythm, raising the volume with each chew. Ok, it isn’t really like that, but there has to be some anticipation in a cooking stream! Maeva’s father crossed his arms and closed his eyes, trying to taste every aspect of the dish. His cheeks puffed on both sides, his concentration deepening as wrinkles began to pop out of his forehead. That alone told me how much he loved to cook. Unfortunately…

“Yep, can’t taste squat. Guess my tongue really has gone to shit,” he mused. “In my opinion, however pointless it may be, it needs a lot more salt. What about you, Maeva–” As he looked over to the side, his eyes widened.

Maeva stood there, her eyes closed, with a beautiful smile plastered on her face. She savored each nibble, going back for another bite whenever she finished. I didn’t even think she noticed, as if she showed a new side to herself.

“I see…” Maeva’s father said with a soft smile. However, it contained a bit more than that: a hint of sadness that she didn’t enjoy his cooking, yet a fierce determination to bring his skill to my level or higher. To hear his daughter say…

“It’s delicious.” A shining, disgusting grin flashed through my mind like a memory. It was the day my sister got accepted to Raees University: the most prestigious academy for combat spellcasters. Since we weren’t that well off when I was a kid, my mom and I made a simple omelet for her to celebrate. It was my first time cooking back then, and honestly, it didn’t taste all that great. But still, she enjoyed it, smiling the way I loved and hated.

I missed that.

“Ok, that’s all for today folks! Now it’s time for the real chef to step up to the plate. Thanks for sticking around for this Chaotic Cooking, and I’ll see you all in the next life!” I unconsciously gave my outro since it was engraved into my mind at this point. Well, it wasn’t like it was a real–

T@e #tre$m %as en^&d.

“Huh?” Out of the corner of my eye, for a brief moment, I thought I saw a floating blue panel appear. On it, I could’ve sworn there were the familiar words marking the end of my stream, yet different somehow. I wasn’t able to check since it disappeared in an instant, almost like an illusion. Or maybe it was an illusion, one brought about from the annals of my addiction. Who knew? I’ll have to check it out later.

“[Creation (Illusion) – Dispel]” I dispelled the illusion over the kitchen, turning everything back to normal. My suit and apron morphed into my white t-shirt and brown shorts. The spotlights disappeared, now letting the morning sun in through the windows. Of course, the background music vanished. The only change was the two taste testers and audience members who experienced the wonder and chaos.

Maeva’s father bowed to me. “Thank you for letting me have this recipe. This should be able to bring the restaurant to life. I can’t imagine that’ll be all, and I’ll probably need others as well, so I hope I can count on you.”

“Hmm… can I have a discount on my room?”

“Hell, you can have it for free for all I care! Well, as long as the restaurant actually manages to bring in customers.”

“Don’t go making decisions on your own dad,” Maeva snapped. Then, she turned towards me with an anxious look. “Yeah… um… thanks. It was… good.” It felt like she forced those words out, but I could tell how much she enjoyed it. Yet, why is she still so dang alluring?!? “Also, what in the world was all that?!”

“All what?”

“The whole suit and spotlight and music thing! Even your personality did a 180! It’s like I was watching a play and behind the scenes at the same time!”

“Ah… It’s just… something I do when I’m explaining things.”

“...that doesn’t explain anything, but fine.” Maeva huffed, but she didn’t question me further. It wasn’t like I had some grand reason or anything. Streaming, much less television, didn’t exist in the world, yet. I couldn’t think of how to say it. As for the reason…

“You know, I felt like I got to know you a bit.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, yesterday and even today, you seemed to put a wall around yourself. It wasn’t just for friends either, it stopped anyone from coming across. But when you were cooking that omelet, you looked so alive, so… genuine.”

“Is that so…” My girlfriend said the same thing the first time she saw me stream. I didn’t really understand. The most I felt was the weight I carried on piggyback lighten, if only a little. When I told her that, she said, “Well yeah! Weren’t you giving them a show? Like ‘don’t worry, I’ll be okay’.” Maybe I was already trying to keep moving forward.

Or maybe not. Only time would tell.

Still, what Maeva told me solidified one thing. I thought I would try some other jobs to see which worked, like an adventurer or delivery person, but it seemed I already knew what I was going to do. While streaming didn’t exist, I could still entertain. While an official job wasn’t possible, I could give a show on the streets for change. While I might not be the me I want to be just yet, I could take two steps forward and one step back.

All this pointed towards one answer.