Remember to vote if you would let Jimin throw you in an oven, or if you think Jimin looks like a cutie patootie in the above picture.

---

Y/n

Y/n hated her life.

Dinner service had not gone the way she had planned. Apps had been fine thanks to Seulgi on the hot and Diya on the cold, and Seulgi nailed Jimin's kimchi appetizer. Considering her Korean background, Y/n wasn't surprised, though the issue at the moment was Y/n herself. She was on the meat station, and she wanted to die a little.

Fuck beef wellingtons.

No, not literally.

Duh.

Y/n had gotten two wellingtons sent back that night, and she didn't want any more, otherwise she risked elimination. The only thing that could save her was getting through service faster than the men, and she had no clue how long they had left in their service. All of them were good chefs. Jimin and Jungkook were two of the best in the whole competition, so if they were having good nights, then Y/n was fucked.

And not in the fun way.

Y/n did her best to focus, and she got one wellington out, which gave her a moment to rest. She had bounced back. Or, slightly, since a few minutes later, she had another one sent back.

Fuck.

On the bright side, Y/n locked in and finished service without making a single mistake afterwards. But three wellingtons sent back was not a good look for her. Karen had screwed up two fish, so it wasn't just her, and to be honest, undercooked fish were more serious than overcooked wellington, but maybe Y/n was coping since they had lost the service.

They had lost the service.

Despite finishing the service, they had finished behind the men, and by four tickets, too, so it wasn't even a close call or anything. That meant there would be an elimination, and Y/n had a guess she'd be on the chopping block.

Well, shit.

Y/n bounced her leg in the dorm with sweat dripping down and her hair a complete mess. Of course, everyone voted for her and Karen. Her and Karen. On the chopping block. To get eliminated. To go home. To not see Jimin any more. To not-

Wait. Jimin.

Y/n felt sick to her stomach, and she got up after the picks were decided, excusing herself to the bathroom when she really just wanted to see Jimin. If that was her final day with Jimin, she needed to see him.

Y/n went to the men's bedroom and peeked inside, and the men looked up at that. Jimin closed his sci-fi book and hopped off his bed with his brows knitted together.

"Looking for me?"

"That obvious?"

Jimin chuckled and placed his hand on her waist to guide her out of the men's room and out to the empty balcony instead. It was about the only place they could get a private conversation, so she was grateful for the solitude.

Right away, Y/n paced on the concrete, nibbling on her nails, and it was like that one action clued Jimin in. Then again, it wasn't like she was hiding it.

"You're up for elimination?"

He said it more like a statement.

Y/n sighed and stopped. "Yeah. I got three wellingtons sent back tonight."

"Shit." Jimin paused to cough. "Well... shit."

Silence dominated the vicinity for a moment. Y/n was so full of adrenaline, she couldn't feel anything other than her soft nail nibbles and her fast heartbeat. She was sure once the adrenaline of service ran off, she'd feel all the pain from elimination and potentially going home.

"I wanted to get a way to contact you after the show. Just in case," she said, and Jimin shook her off, but she didn't let him. "We need to prepare. Just in case. I want to talk to you after this is over."

"I do too, Y/n, but I know you're not going home. You're one of the most talented chefs here. Why would Ramsay send you home over three mistakes? You and Seulgi are the best chefs on that team. Neither of you should go home, and I'll fight for you if I have to."

"Jimin, no-"

"Jimin, yes," he interrupted, and then, he stopped and sighed, approaching her and taking both her hands. "I don't want you to go, so you won't go. I'll fight Ramsay and get myself kicked out if I have to."

"That's stupid."

"Well I'm fucking stupid, okay? Have you seen me? I look like the kind of dude to be stupid. I spend twenty minutes a day admiring my ass in the mirror and smacking it. Obviously I'm stupid."

Y/n brought her brows together. "Honestly, I'm surprised it's only twenty."

"Okay, maybe it's more like two hours, but that's not the point. The point is, I know you're not going home. But if you are, we'll find a way. Just look me up on Instagram. Park Jimin. That's it. No underscores or anything. Then we can talk to each other, okay?"

She sighed. "Alright, if you-"

"Guys," Diya's voice interrupted. Jimin and Y/n turned to see Diya standing in the doorway with a sheepish smile. "Sorry to interrupt, but Gordon wants us down there now."

And no one wanted to keep Gordon waiting.

"Thanks, Diya," Jimin said, and Diya nodded and left. Jimin kissed the top of Y/n's head. "It's okay. You'll be okay. I promise."

Jimin was the type to never break a promise. That gave her the confidence needed to follow her team downstairs, though it didn't give her enough confidence to do it without having wide eyes and clammy hands. Every cell felt like it was trembling inside her, and her heart refused to slow down.

They made it to the empty dining room. The same elimination set up was there, with Gordon standing in the middle and the tables all off to the side. Y/n stood with her team, and her ears rang. She couldn't focus on anything other than fiddling with her fingers and looking down at her dirty shoes. Everything about her felt dirty in that moment.

She couldn't focus when Diya said the two names nominated for elimination. She couldn't focus when Gordon called on her and Karen to step forward. She couldn't focus when Gordon turned to her and asked why she should stay in Hell's Kitchen. Never did she think she'd have to give the cliche answer she had heard so many times before, but she did her best to avoid as many cliches as possible.

"There's probably nothing I can say that'll convince you," Y/n said, and Gordon quirked a brow at that. "I fucked up tonight. I know these speeches are just formalities, and you probably have a decision in your head already, but I pray it isn't me, chef. I don't want to leave. I want this more than I've ever wanted anything. So much that if you asked me to go cook you ten wellingtons right now, the only question I'd ask is 'how do you want them done'."

Y/n went quiet after that, figuring there wasn't much more she could say. All the speeches were bullshit and a show so the producers could amp up drama. The truth was, most people who went on the chopping block were going to get eliminated at some point unless they really cleaned up their act, and Y/n had no plan to face elimination again.

If she survived that one.

"I see," Gordon said, not offering anything beyond that. He focused on Karen next. "Karen, why do you believe you should stay in Hell's Kitchen?"

And then she went on to give the generic answer about not being done and having more passion than before. Something about her learning and growing as a person and chef thanks to the experience. Y/n tuned it out. All she heard was the ringing in her ears and the way her heart refused to settle down. She doubted it would anytime soon.

"Alright. I have made my decision." Gordon bounced on his heels in typical Gordon fashion and glanced at the contestants. After a moment of dramatic silence, he returned his focus to Karen and Y/n. "My decision is..."

Of course, the classic trail off. Y/n didn't care about hiding her facial expressions anymore; the cameras could see every moment of her sweat. If they looked hard enough, they'd see her heart flopping like a fish out of her ribcage. It took all her willpower not to piss herself.

"Karen," Gordon said, and the older woman sighed and stepped forward. "Give me your jacket. Your time on Hell's Kitchen is over."

Y/n almost threw up. There was a fifty-fifty when it came to Gordon. If he called out a name, sometimes he'd say back in line or something of the sort, but hearing give me your jacket had Y/n's heart returning to a somewhat—somewhat—normal rhythm. But that didn't give her warm feelings, seeing as she was essentially celebrating someone else getting eliminated. She didn't know how to feel about that.

Karen did as instructed and turned to wave to the red team. "Bye, girls. Good luck."

"Bye, Karen," all of them said, watching the older lady shake Gordon's hand and leave out the front door. Ten contestants left. Nine others Y/n had to beat to win Hell's Kitchen, though that was a long way out, considering she had been on the chopping block.

Speaking of...

"Y/n, back in line."

Y/n listened to Gordon and scrambled back in line. Seulgi glanced at her but otherwise didn't say anything while Felicia and Diya gave Y/n quick hugs before Gordon went back to talking. Nothing spectacular. Just a mini speech about the next service and doing better, and then, they were off to the dorms, Y/n trembling the entire way up.

People spoke. Y/n didn't listen. Her ears remained numb, same with the rest of her body. She didn't realize they had made it back to the dorm until a hand squeezing her shoulder and guiding her to the couch to sit made her snap into focus again.

"Hey," Jimin said, his puppy eyes meeting hers. "It's okay. You made it. Your time isn't done yet."

That much was true. She had another chance to prove herself, but did she deserve it after screwing up like that? With beef wellingtons? She had vowed before entering the competition that she wouldn't become like the other Hell's Kitchen chefs and would do fantastic on scallops, risottos, and wellingtons. If she messed up other things, she could live with it, but the most common dishes to mess up? How was she supposed to stand out when all she did was fit in with the-

"Y/n." Jimin interrupted her inner tangent and squeezed her hand. "I know what you're thinking. I've been there too, not too long ago, but someone reminded me how good a chef I am."

Y/n averted her gaze. "That's different. You're you. You're more talented than anyone here. Hell, I bet everyone thinks you're gonna win."

"Well, I am talented, no denying that, but everyone here is. Has Seulgi flubbed anything yet? Has Jungkook?"

Y/n didn't know how to answer, so she didn't.

"Everyone will make mistakes and have bad days, but that doesn't make them bad people or bad at what they do. You think no waitress has ever spilled a drink before? If we were perfect at everything, we'd be machines, and machines are cool as fuck, don't get me wrong, but humans are even better because we're us." Jimin squeezed her hand again. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Neither would I, but it's a crappy feeling."

"Yeah, that's understandable. Try not to let it beat you up too much though, okay?"

Y/n agreed. Jimin had a point, after all: everyone made mistakes. It was only a matter of time before Jungkook and Seulgi had major fuck ups, and Y/n wouldn't think any less of them as chefs, so why did she think less of herself?

She couldn't lose faith. Not now, and not ever.

---

Remember to vote, comment, and follow if you like this book. Nothing crazy today, just if you're enjoying the story so far (this is halfway into the book so I hope you are by now D:)