A/N: Happy New Year, bakers! <3 You are a huge part of my life and I would like to wish you an amazing year ahead, and that no matter how painful this year was, I believe you have the strength to carry on and brave towards the future, regardless of how hard you know its going to be. Because this is how Chip and Xander have managed to come through; knowing that it hurts, but carrying on with a light within. 

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"Sir, is Mr. Honeycutt coming tomorrow?" Evans tailed me to the equipment room, looking a little upset. "I kinda like him more than Mrs. Harry. Layla said he gave everyone an A for the assessment—and, well, I've never gotten an A in my whole entire life."

I passed him a stack of cones and a football. "That's your fault Evans. And how did Layla know all of this?"

"She didn't. Nyugen told her and she was the one who caught a glimpse of the register, so." Evans shrugged, keeping the ball under his arm. "So is he coming for tomorrow's lesson?"

Looping the sashes through his other arm and gathering the remaining equipment, I ushered my student out of the room and locked up after. "He's a substitute teacher for one day Evans. I'm sure you were informed—or at least someone in your class would have told you, seeing how up-to-date you guys are with gossip."

"Just saying," his shoulders fell with a sigh. "I just wanted to confirm it with you since...well, since you guys seem kinda close."

I snorted.

"He's my husband, Evans."

The ball he had under his arms fell to the grass and tumbled once.

"What?" I saw his gaze dart to my fingers for a moment. "Oh...oh yeah, you had a ring last time—wait. Where is it now?"

"We're in gym class Evans," I scanned the benches for the rest of his class, "no accessories or you'll risk getting others hurt. Right, your class was supposed to gather at the field five minutes ago. Where are they?"

I made out a couple of girls coming towards us form across the field. Others filtered in from the side gate, strolling leisurely. Sigh, kids.

"You guys don't have any sense of urgency, do you?" I laid out bluntly, glaring at a group of them who were messing around in the back. "That's it, two more rounds around the field before we play." The class groaned and cursed under their breath.

"Any complaints tell them to the people who were late, which somehow includes all of you except Evans."

Someone raised her hand. By some miracle, I remembered her name.

"Yes Nyugen." Chip taught me how to pronounce it.

"But sir! We were late because we wanted to prepare a surprise for Mr. Honeycutt when he comes tomorrow. It won't happen again—we swear." The class nodded in unison. I turned to Finn, the only member of the class from the volleyball team.

"Really."

"Uh, yes sir. But it was supposed to be a surprise, so. We weren't supposed to tell you."

"Exactly sir." I racked my brains to remember the name of this blonde-haired girl standing at the very front. "We planned something good 'cuz we reaaally want him to stay here and you know, hopefully replace Mrs. Harry," she flashed an evil grin. "Besides, we were super good during his class. No trouble caused. Totally eligible to skip warm-up."

And by that, she meant absolutely no running at all.

"Tough luck kids. Mr. Honeycutt isn't coming tomorrow—he's only subbing in for Mrs. Harry for one day."

Cries of despair. Echoes of disbelief. I blew once into the whistle. "Enough drama. Start your rounds...just one will do."

I swear, their faces lit up like a Christmas tree. Shin looked so relieved that anyone would have thought he survived some form of an ordeal.

"Get going," I shooed them towards the track. "Or we won't have time for Frisbee later."

3A's reaction was the usual cheer that all classes would have responded with. Apparently, no one liked to play football either, seeing that it was quite a hard sport to play and it didn't necessarily involve everyone on the team. None of my students knew that this was thanks to an angel that they all seemed unaware of; one who suggested a game that would, at least, be able to involve everyone—even if they were a little afraid of certain sports. Or balls, for the matter.

Ultimate Frisbee was the solution, and it helped that it was part of a running trend in the school.

*

"The class misses you," I came up from behind and wrapped my arms around my angel's waist, taking in his scent. "You should come visit me some day."

"Uwaa—" He yelped, startled. "That's dangerous, Xan. I could have burned myself there," he warned adorably. "A-and where are you touching? Wha—don't lift my shirt!" Chip struggled to get rid of my wandering hands while trying to stir his pot of creamy mushroom soup. "I have to get dinner out in ten minutes before Gretel comes back with Giselle. She's probably really hungry."

I kissed his nape and decided to let go. For the moment, at least—could always have more later.

(A/N: woW xAnder WOw)

"Oh and, um. I'm sorry," my angel turned to me with an apologetic expression. "It's just. The bakery's a little busy these days. Shea's stuck upstairs trying to calm the online feud that some anonymous person sparked about...you know, the new bakery and ours. It's such a small thing, but I can't imagine how the forum can have close to a thousand responses—it's so weird! It's just bread and cupcakes. Why do people have to argue to much about which is better?" He sighed, taking a lemon from the refrigerator. "I'll gladly give in, I mean. Their cakes look really good."

I retrieved a fruit knife and chopping board from the drawer and helped him slice it into half. "That's not it Angel," I pulled the Giselle card on him, "Giselle's always saying your cupcakes are the best. You don't think she's lying do you?"

He pouted, slipping in his cupcake-printed mittens before taking the salmon out of the oven.

"O-of course not! It's just...well...which is why I put in a lot of effort too, you know," I squeezed some lemon juice over the salmon while Chip went back to stirring the mushroom soup. "We're bringing out the very first batch of savory cupcakes tomorrow. It's a new launch, so I'm looking forward to opinions, whether good or bad," he said optimistically, taking off his apron after switching off the stove.

Together, we set the table and ensured that Berry had her water and food bowl filled before continuing the conversation.

It was strangely comforting—my husband's voice as he told me how his day went; the small issues and tiny successes that people often overlooked. The content would seem, to any outsider, a little boring and unnecessary. After all, what could a married couple possibly find in a conversation after years of knowing and talking to each other? Would they not run out of things to say, or topics to discuss? What then, to fill the silence with?

I sort of knew, then, that I would have been content just hearing his breathing and sitting in silence, seeing the same view that he was, naturally, seeing as well. It was just the simple sharing of space. The sharing of time, and of a world that consisted of us but not by ourselves.

It made me unbearably happy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[Nyugen]

"Why do you think Honeycutt doesn't want to teach us?" Liz asked over lunch amidst our long-winded complaints about the terrible home economics lesson we had just been put through and pitying Evans who got a scolding for messing up Harry's recipe again. "I bet Harry hates us already."

"Well maybe Honeycutt hates us too," Brendon shrugged nonchalantly, receiving an agonizing pinch on his forearm from Layla who sat across me.

Evans shook his head. "He was really nice to me even though I messed up the entire pie. I mean I know I suck at baking and all that but it's not like I want Finn to get the same stupid grade I get every lesson," he said quietly, leaving his lunch tray untouched.

"I don't really care," was all Finn said in response, stealing a nugget from Evans' tray which set the holy gay bells in my head ringing like mad. I swear, I spotted their marriage a mile away. "It's not important."

"Yeah but that's not the point Finn," Evans sounded fairly upset. "Do you know how bad I feel whenever Harry gives us an F? Just because of me. I mean, sure you don't care but I do. I fucking care about what grade you get, Finn." With that, he stood up and left the cafeteria, leaving the rest of the table awfully quiet.

I exchanged a look with Shin who sat beside me.

"What was that?"

We all turned to Finn. "Man, you didn't have to say that your grades aren't important. I thought you knew how sensitive Evans can get all the time."

"Are you guys serious?" He snorted. "This is stupid."

"No Finn. Evans' is the one who always puts in the effort while you sit there taking him for granted," Layla rolled her eyes.

"You should go after him. Make up, and apologize," I offered, silently hoping that they would somehow end up having sex instead but oh well. Seventeen and growing. "Hurry up, before he gets too far."

Finn snorted, tilting his chair back while resting his hands behind his head. "Forget it. He'd rather someone else go." And with that, his gaze rested on Shin for a brief second before turning away.

Immediately, I sensed a threesome. "Look, whether or not he wants you to go after him doesn't matter at the moment, okay? You were being insensitive."

"Nyugen's right," Yvonne forced his chair upright and pushed him off with ease. "What's up with you guys recently? Man up and apologize—or you're just being immature."

"Yeah, exactly." Layla and Liz nodded. Shin was too afraid to look him in the eye.

But Finn (AS USUAL) was being a stubborn cocky-ass shit. Not that I didn't want him to be, you see—I love it when one of them is a cold, arrogant dick and the other is a pure cinnamon roll THEY'RE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER.

"Why? He's probably locked himself in some bathroom stall by now," he was trying hard to remain nonchalant, but of course, we all saw through his guise.

"Then go find him!"

"Too many bathrooms."

"Then go find him after school!" Layla sighed exasperatedly.

"I have training today."

"Then after your training, you little shit," I snapped finally with a glare. This time however, he seemed to give in. Instantly, I was in a good mood. My ship was going to survive!

"Doesn't he like cakes or something? We could get something while we're paying him a visit at his house," Yvonne suggested. "If everything goes well, we might end up having a party."

"What?" Finn frowned all of a sudden. "Since when were you guys coming along?"

"Since you were being a pussy," Brendon laughed and Finn looked like a cheetah ready to pounce.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Noo," Layla got between them. "Stop it. Both of you," she glared at Brendon as well. "It's not like you know any good bakeries to get a cake for Evans. Liz and I do. And I've heard some stuff about a new bakery—though it's quite a distance away. Anything for your friend, right?"

"Yeah! And the rest of us will...you know, tag a long and give moral support!" I added quickly, receiving a couple of nods from around the table. Before we knew it, our whole class was invited to accompany Finn on his pilgrimage to Evans' house, and the idea of popping by some bakeries for good food made it all the more inviting.

"It's cupcakes by the way," Finn added quietly. "He likes cupcakes."

*

Some people sweat a lot. Finn isn't one of them, but he sure was drowning in sweat when we met him outside the indoor sports hall (where we sat highlighting notes while waiting for his practice to end).

"Dude, what happened to you?" Brendon teased with a smirk. "Couldn't handle some running?"

Finn clicked his tongue. "Fuck no. Coach Aden wasn't here today so Jaxon filled in for indoor volley and I swear he's from hell."

My ears perked up at the name. Jaxon and Honeycutt was an incoming pairing I foresaw and could not wait to ship officially. They were practically cannon—most likely married, really. I'll pry it out of Jaxon one day.

As I was plotting my path to world domination, the majority of our class who tagged along were having their private conversations while making our way to the bus stop. It was kind of exciting, I had to admit. Almost like an excursion. Oh wait, I meant uh, a pilgrimage. Yes, moral support for Finn. Either way, we all seemed to understand the strange importance of Evans in our class. He was mostly talkative, answering and asking questions that were completely unnecessary and messing things up on certain occasions but he was, at the heart of it all, part of us on the whole.

I comforted myself by thinking that this had nothing to do with my fervent obsession with the romantic lives of two young boys or uh, men in general but mainly because I (and the rest of my class) was sincerely concerned about Evans' wellbeing. And you know, their friendship. Finn's and Evans'.

"Okay, so we'll be stopping by the new bakery which is...eleven stops away before walking like, two-hundred meters which isn't a lot," Layla had these directions flashed on the screen of her phone as she read them aloud, leading our pack with Liz beside her. "Yvonne and I tried their chocolate ganache cake during the summer hols when we visited the city together. I'm not sure if their branch is as good as their main but I guess it's worth a shot," she shrugged.

Several people complained about the distance. After all, eleven stops would take us really far from Evans' place—which was practically across the park beside our school.

"This better be good," Finn sighed.

I pursed my lips and told him that if this was as far as he would go for Evans', their friendship would not last any longer than a month.

"Shut up...we've been friends since elementary school," he muttered bitterly, and my ship sailed for the second time of the day. CHILDHOOD FRIENDS ASDFGHKIJL?!

"Then a minimal amount of effort shouldn't be of much concern to you, should it?" I said smugly as we arrived at the bus stop. All of us managed to squeezed under the shelter.

"I know that," Finn snapped. "Just don't get why everyone else is tagging along."

"We care about Evans too," I shrugged, trying to sound as indifferent and nonchalant as possible. "He's a good guy. You're not the only one who likes him."

He frowned hard and looked as though he was debating in his head whether or not to bring the conversation any further. "I know he has a lot of friends. You don't have to tell me that." THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS TRYING TO TELL YOU BUT OKAY. I gave up, turning instead to Liz who skipped cheerleading practice just for this.

"Boys."

"God, they're so dense! What is wrong with them?"

"I know, I know. Everything."

"Dumb as hell," I shook my head miserably. "They should just make up and kiss already."

"Lol," Liz folded her arms with a snort. "Finn's an amateur and Evans is just an emotional wreck. What did you expect, Nyugen? Your ship was doomed from the start."

"Hey, that's not true," I protested, lowering my voice so that the people around us (who were too absorbed in their own private conversations to care) would not overhear. "It has potential."

Liz shook her head. "Shin and Finn on the other hand..."

"What!" My heart stopped. "They're enemies! Rivals in love; what are you talking about?"

"Exactly," Liz smirked with a spark in her eyes. "The more hate, the better it gets. And I don't exactly mind a threesome either—oh the bus is here."

Liz and I could go on forever debating about this, only to arrive at a similar conclusion about how they would, hopefully, end up all together in some happy fairytale-storybook shit but nah. It was reality and in real life, I doubt anyone had the ability to share their lover with someone else. Either way, Liz and I took this very seriously and she was the only person I could ever discuss my shipping problems with. And yeah, they were the real crises I ever had.

My life wasn't all that interesting, really. I kinda like it that way.

The bunch of us managed to shove ourselves up onto the public bus (some of us had to stand; there were about fifteen of us) which was already half-filled with commuters who were going home.

Liz continued from where she had stopped.

"Anyway, if it's dense we're talking about, look at Layla," we automatically stared. She was sitting at the back with Brendon standing beside her. "Brendon's been flirting with her for like, the past few weeks and all she goes on about is this...pet chameleon she has at home."

I shrugged. "Sounds cool to me."

"Oh come on Nyugen," Liz rolled her eyes and nudged me in the ribs. "We're at the age. Don't you want a boyfriend or something? If it's parties you're lacking, I could invite you to mine. Josh doesn't really care." Josh is Liz's current boyfriend, by the way. He's a senior basketballer, and they've been together for two months. So far.

Immediately, I declined. "Thanks, but nah. I'm not cut out for that kind of stuff. In all honesty, I'd prefer to spend my time in the library with Shin."

"Oooh," my classmate winked suggestively. "Speaking of Shin huh...you guys seem really close recently. What's up with that?" Then she frowned all of a sudden. "You're not trying to ruin my ship are you?"

"What? No!" I made a face. "We're not like that. And Shin is like, the perfect bottom. The cute, quiet sort of guy. It's such a waste if he doesn't end up with some god-like top."

"Lol," was all Liz had to say. "You're giving up your love life for some unlikely fantasy? Come on Nyugen."

I shrugged. "Duh."

*

The two-hundred meters didn't seem very long after all, just like Layla had said it wasn't. We spotted the new bakery—Angel Rachel's Cakes for Devils? Riiiighttt...sounds weirder than my gay porn collection but okay—a mile away. It was bright; it was pink; it was tacky; it looked more like a sex shop than any bakery in the world. I checked with Layla.

"Are you sure this legit sells cakes?"

"Legit, yes," she rolled her eyes before saying. "This is the one guys. Let's go in."

Everyone was surveying the appearance of the bakery in an excited manner before pushing the person forward through the entrance, eager to escape the freezing weather. It was the Barbie-pink walls that hit me first—a punch in the face.

"There's a lot of pink in here," Shin said to me quietly. It was the first time he spoke throughout our mini-adventure. "My eyes hurt."

I nodded, understanding perfectly well what he meant. "Don't worry. We won't be staying for long anyway 'cuz we're just getting something for Evans', right? Then we'll pop by his house to see how he's doing."

Apparently, Liz was thinking the exact same thing because she and Michelle (one of my classmates) went straight up to the queue and dragged a miserable-looking Finn with them while the rest of us filed into the area with tiny tables fit for dwarves. I'm a 5-feet giant by the way, so the vintage tables were perfect for me but it wasn't as though I would actually opt to stay here in this pink frenzy. We chatted for a while and some of us even considered buying a slice of cake just to see what the buzz over it was about.

At this however, I noticed that most of the display cases were empty—which meant there were no more cakes left. Michelle and Yvonne were at the front of the queue, taking their time since there was no one behind them.

I busied myself by moving within earshot.

"So...there are no cupcakes left."

"Yes, that's what I said," the girl answered in a fairly bitter tone, tapping away at the electronic cash register.

I could tell that Liz was trying hard not to roll her eyes. "And those?" She pointed at the stray few cupcakes remaining, one of each flavor. "Are they not cupcakes as well?"

"They are display samples. Not for sale," the attendant sighed as though she felt terribly distressed talking to a couple of high school kids. "What's left are on those shelves over there. And the chocolate ganache cake in whole."

Michelle and Liz turned to Finn, who dismissed the options with a wave. "He doesn't need a whole cake."

Michelle snorted.

"You're the one apologizing, Finn—at least be sincere about it. Look, it's always been Evans trying to make it up to you. This is the first time he upped and left like that; he must have been keeping this inside for quite some time."

Finn clicked his tongue and seemed to give in after minimal persuasion. "Is there any way we can get those...display samples?" He asked the cashier wearily and received and equally rude response.

"No."

"Can we talk to your manager? It seems like we're your last customers and selling us your display samples wouldn't be much of a loss," Liz snapped with finality, and the rest of the people in the bakery fell silent, eyes turning towards the counter where the four of us were standing before.

The girl shrugged. "The owner is not in at the moment."

"Someone you report to?" Liz sighed. "Anyone we could try persuading?"

By this point, the rest of our class had gathered at the counter to listen in on the conversation, ready to back Liz up.

"The point of the display sample is to allow customers who come late have an impression of how the cupcake would look like if they were slightly earlier. It gives them the incentive to come back the next day and get it, hence increasing the demand for and sales of our products. You may be the last customer, Miss, but you are not going to be the last one entering the store. This bakery sells out every day and I can guarantee that keeping the display sample in its rightful place would yield much more profit than allowing it to be bought."

So much for explanation; I bet it was long just so that she could throw us off.

Pro-debater Layla stepped in.

"So you're saying that you win customers over just by allowing them to see what your cupcakes look like and not actually taste them? That's not going to get you loyal customers. If another bakery has like, better-looking cakes or cupcakes, you'd lose out easily. If say you let someone purchase your last cupcake, they might even become a regular if they like the taste. On the other hand, if you don't then maybe you're just losing out on long-term profit, since that's apparently all you guys care about."

Someone at the back whistled. I was giving her an internal standing ovation. The cashier was looking very displeased.

"Loyal customers? We're not some sentimental-sweet-shop; take your argument somewhere else. Anyway, we're closing up. Don't think we're taking any more orders," she waved dismissively, tapping away at the electronic cash register once again before beginning to count the float.

We exchanged looks, mouthing stuff like "what is her problem?" "fuck that shit" "wow" "RUDE" "Lol awkward".

I was team "let's get outta here" because if that's how this place works then—nah. I'd rather not buy anything even if it was the best-looking, nicest-tasting shit in the world. Besides, how'd they even pick their staff? God, that girl was beyond rude. I wonder if they actually train them.

Our class shuffled out of the bakery and stood in the cold.

"So what now?" Brendon asked. "No party?"

Layla rolled her eyes. "That's not the point, Brendon."

"It's getting late," Yvonne checked her phone. "My mom's gonna flame."

"Same..."

There was a split between the people who wanted to get away from the cold and the people who were hoping internally for a party. I was part of neither, since my only wish was to see my ship reunite. Cue evil laughter.

"It's your call, Finn." Liz directed the final decision to the man at hand. "You gonna go empty-handed? I mean, we can't possibly expect a party if we don't bring stuff over anyway. Okay the point is, to apologize. But uh...some of us here are kinda out of the mood already." True. My toes were freezing the hell up and the wind did not help one bit.

Finn sighed. "You guys can go home. I'll handle this on my own...somehow. Thanks for coming," he added all of a sudden. "I guess."

I shrugged, and so did several others. "So we're breaking off here then?"

"Mmhm."

"Who's going to the bus stop?"

"Can we cab? Does anyone have cash—we can split."

"I'm walking from here..."

The class sort of fell into groups before going in separate directions. I was left with Liz, Finn, and Brendon who were making their way back to the bus stop, walking down a deserted street lit by streetlamps but mostly plagued with freezing shadows.

"Woah," I almost crashed into Brendon who halted in his tracks all of a sudden. "Don't just stop like that."

"What's that smell?" He turned around to ask. "It's making me hungry."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Brendon. We're in the middle of an empty road, the sun has set, I'm freezing my boobs off—can we please ignore your calls of hunger for a second?"

"I don't smell anything," I paused, trying to catch a whiff of whatever Brendon was talking about. "It's just the cold."

The footballer wouldn't budge. "It's like pizza. Man, I don't know—"

"Baked potatoes," Finn (finn)ished as we turned the corner, huddling closer to the sidewalk in order to avoid the wind. "I'm hungry as hell." It was at this point that I began to understand how inviting the scent was to an empty stomach. It was past dinner time and I was starving; Finn was right. It did smell like baked potatoes, or freshly-made fries for the matter.

"Can't we pop by a store to get something to chew on? Like," Brendon was letting his stomach do the talking and it obviously did not consider the pissed-off glare that Liz was constantly giving or that she was freezing her boobs off. "I think it's coming from there."

He pointed at a store across the street, lit up by warm lights; and the scent of my favorite barbeque-chicken pizza grew increasingly strong.

I don't know what it was that made us cross the street but there was something inviting about the warmth that came from within that store. Probably just the shade of the lights—they weren't exactly blinding like the ones from that new bakery, or a punch of pink that resembled the interior of a sex shop (uh, not that I actually been to one before but oh well)—they simply drew. It was like an attraction that couldn't really be put into words.

Or maybe we were just hungry.

"I can't tell what this is."

Liz squinted at the signboard above. "It says 'Baked Love'. I think," she turned to me. "So, a bakery?"

"I didn't know there was one here," I laid out honestly, only to realize that Liz had actually been talking to herself and didn't really intend for anyone to answer her question.

"Wait. I know this place...isn't this the bakery that everyone's comparing the ARCD with?" It took me a moment to understand what the acronym was and another moment to come up with an accountable reply.

"Lol, and I'd know? Liz, my internet is filled with bookmarks of gay porn and cat videos. What do you expect?" I laid out casually, knowing that the boys were probably straying behind, trying to figure out what to eat.

By the time we crossed the street and stopped in front of the bakery however, Liz and I noticed a pretty young lady standing in front of a sandwich board with the cutest handwriting in chalk. She was smiling strangely—something between a mocking sort of smirk and one that people would give to a dying creature. A look of pity.

She was blocking the entrance, and didn't seem to notice that there were customers (us) trying to enter the bakery. Her odd smile prompted me to ask whether something was wrong.

"Hm?" The lady turned and flashed us a false shake of her head. "Oh no. Not at all," before going back to staring at the sandwich board. Liz peered over my shoulder and squinted again at the words in chalk.

"Savory cupcakes...new launch," she managed to make out a couple of the words, lowering her voice so that the weird lady wouldn't find us weird. Brendon and Finn caught up.

"Uh, aren't we going in?"

I made a point to direct my gaze at the lady before turning to Brendon. "Yes. We are."

Think-headed douche snorted and was about to push past the lady when she clicked her tongue and stalked away on the highest heels I've ever witnessed.

We exchanged gazes before shrugging, then entered the bakery—leaving cold shadows behind.

_________________________

A/N: Hello dears! I hope you enjoyed Nyugen's point of view. I tried to make her relatable! Hope it worked :'D I think the high school trend changes accordingly. I mean, it can't possibly be that cheerleaders get the most attention, or that athletes tend to be elitist. Evans is an athlete by the way hahaha XD. He's just an emotional boy :')

3A is actually pretty representative of my junior and senior class in high school (17 and 18). We were a weird bunch who went out in large groups, making it really hard to find seats in restaurants or fit in one person's house but I'm really glad I met these people. They don't leave anyone out, and cliques are barely there. We're just one clique o.o the entire class.

-Cuppiecake.

P.S Happy New Year! <3 *showers sprinkles and cookies onto your lap* *pops Chip into a tub and gives tub to Xander* *gives Giselle a lifetime supply of me*