Let us congratulate xEena101x  for winning our Cook It Up! Live contest!

Here is her winning entry: Burn It Up! Live

"You need to calm down, I can't fix your makeup if you're profusely sweating."

Amelia, my temporary makeup artist, snapped at me, swatting my hand away with her bulbous brush. She furiously dabbed the sponge on my hairline before dusting my cheeks with some rouge.

"I'm sorry," I released a shaky breath.

"Jesus, it's just some mac and cheese!" She muttered before resuming her position behind the camera. Working during Halloween holidays must suck. I was definitely not making her job any easy.

'Right, just some mac and cheese.' my conscience mocked.

My week-long pep talk and all the adrenaline rush had puffed out the moment I stepped in this bustling kitchen studio lined with cameras at ten different angles and a dozen crew members.

It was no secret that 'Cook It Up! Live' had been a staple for television for seven years now and still running strong with several global recognition awards. Their last Halloween episode was tuned in by six million people globally to watch their favourite chef, Logan Ross cook some pumpkin patch bites.

With his blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and infectious laugh, I doubt his recipe was the sole reason for such a high rating.

"Scarlette? Ready?" The crew head called out. I gave a distracted nod as I stared at the crumpled paper in my hand, the measurements and ingredients all blurred up in my messy handwriting.

"Hey, You look quite a sexy witch," Christen said gesturing to the orange cashmere sweater and the witch hat that I had donned to match the theme of the festival.

"I hope you have modified your recipe after our last meeting. Just follow the script and you'll be good to go." She said, shuffling through the pages on her notepad.

She was one of the members who had urged me to take up this offer during our initial meetings. Throughout my culinary school, I had barely spoken a word or two, much less made a friend. I was much comfortable working in silence at the back station, alone.

Despite all the odds, Christen assured me that this show would be a great boost for my career. It was rare, tempting, and out of my comfort zone.

"I hope I don't mess this up," I muttered as I stared at all the glinting kitchen appliances decked on the marble counter.

I couldn't believe Gordon Ramsay was standing here a month ago.

"This is your chance Scar. You're lucky to have it." Christen said, gesturing around the studio kitchen that looked like a picture straight out of glossy pages of Décor.

It really was happening. I wasn't dreaming.

"Also-Logan Ross will be joining you in the ending ten minutes of our segment, knock him off with your dish kay?"

"Logan?" My breath hitched as I processed the new piece of information.

"What about Kacy Tres?" I asked as I stared at the nearest door longingly, planning my swiftest exit.

"She cannot make it. Logan quickly agreed to be our guest of honour despite his heavy schedule. Isn't he an angel?" She said before making the short trip out to the chairs set behind the cameras.

That was the last nail in my coffin.

My heartbeat drummed in my ears and my hands trembled. I tightly gripped the counter as if my life depended on it.

I barely registered as the lights of the room dimmed, bathing me in hot, glaring spotlights. The voice in the room died down to complete silence. I stared at the huge camera zoomed on me. My mind numbed with the thought of millions of eyes staring at me, dissecting my every move through their Tv screens.

It was just supposed to be an hour-long, one-take live video.

No edits, no cuts, no Mechlin star chef infamous for his charms and soufflés.

"Ok, Scarlette, we go live in three, two, one." The voice boomed and I heard a loud beep, my cue to start.

'It's just Mac and Cheese Scar. A recipe you can perfect in your sleep. You can do it!'

I said to myself before facing the camera with a practised smile.

"Hey guys, Welcome to Cook it up! Live. Happy Halloween!" I paused with a wide toothy grin, looking straight into the camera. "I'm Scarlette Brown and today we're having a spooky, extra cheesy mac and cheese pot."

From there on I fell into my element, smoothly manoeuvering my way around the kitchen, cracking a joke or two, constantly smiling at the camera.

"Now, you add crunchy gram crackers to your bacon mix and there you go, you've got your topping ready!" I gently set the bowl aside, wiping my sweaty palms on the towel.

This was a piece of cake, huh!

I mentally patted my back ignoring the violent somersault in the stomach.

"Next up, is our cheese sauce or as you call it bouillie, get some butter in your pot, medium heat, and while the butter's melting, pre-heat your oven at one eighty degrees for-"

I paused with my mouth agape as my eyes caught a pair of blue ones instead of the camera lens.

It all went downhill from there.

There, standing partly covered in dark was none other than Logan Ross. A chef who had arrived pretty early despite his busy schedule.

His smile widened as I shamelessly stared back at him. I clutched the towel until my knuckles ached.

Faint murmurs rang across the room. Christen vigorously waved her notepad in the air and that broke the spell. I quickly scrambled for purchase.

"For-for-ten to fif-fifteen minutes."

I hurriedly ducked under the counter with the perfect excuse to avoid all the stares. Mentally cursing myself, I clumsily set the oven's temperature, my trembling fingers and frazzled mind's incoordination taking twice the time than needed.

'Get your shit together!'

The pungent smoky smell filled the air.

I sprang from my squatted position to find my butter turning a dark, murky colour in the pot. I quickly grabbed the pot with my naked hand, my vacuous brain slowly catching up with my actions.

"Fuck!"

I screeched as I set the hot, burning pot sprawling across the counter knocking all the appliances and bowls on the floor.

The content of the pot tainted the once oyster white walls of the studio in shades of browns and shards of glass littered the pristine floor. Appliance laid dismantled and broken on the floor, covered in the gunk of my topping and other ingredients.

I whimpered as I stepped back in panic, eyeing the horrendous view unfolding in front of my eyes.

In front of the camera, and probably other few million people watching it.

Loud gasps and deafening screams rose in the room, setting the backstage on chaos.

"Step away, carefully! Are you Ok, Miss?" A pair of arms grabbed my shoulders and pivoted me around. Logan's face was a cross between worry and panic as he furiously scanned my body for any possible injury.

My knees violently trembled and I all but collapsed on the floor in a heap. The man behind the camera violently gestured for us to step away from the scene.

However, my nightmare hadn't ended.

Thick, viscous smoke filled the room, momentarily blinding me and I struggled to grasp my footing. My body wracked with violent coughs as my lungs struggled to breathe, clogged with tears and smoke.

People scramble around blindly, panic and trepidation, worsening the situation.

"Fire! Call emergency."

"Evacuate the room!"

"It's the oven!" I screamed.

I hastened towards the counter with minimal vision, sinking on my knees, disregarding the broken shards prickling and scraping my knees.

A hand intercepted mine, centimetres before I grazed the violently beeping oven.

"Haven't you learnt from your mistake?" Logan screamed before spotting a hand glove on the rack, reflecting his familiarity with the kitchen.

He pushed few buttons, switching off the tool before carefully peeling open the handle, releasing more gust of heavy smoke. He retrieved a scrap of black cloth from the interiors before dangling it in front of my face.

"Is leaving your kitchen towel in the heating oven a part of your secret recipe? You must have skipped that step in your submission."

Despite the thick smoke hung in the air, I could easily spot the small mischievous grin dancing on his face. His tip of the nose was smeared with some black grease that gave him a more rugged look.

I could only imagine, the perfect Halloween makeup painted across my face.

Despite the turns of the events, I smiled back.

"How did the towel end up in the oven...uhm" He said as he sat beside me, leaning on the counter, our shoulders touching.

Oh, I was busy undressing you in my head so...

"Scarlette. I don't know."

"You really did cook up a storm huh?" He grinned wolfishly.

"Cook it up? more like burn it up? Live." I muttered.