"You dream, you gotta protect it. People can't do something themselves, they wanna tell you you can't do it. If you want something, go get it. Period." 

~The Pursuit of Happyness

Sandy's eyes were almost popping out of her head.

She'd just walked through he door, three shopping bags on one arm, and her duffel bag hanging off the other.

Her eyes were red and bleary and she smelled strongly of alcohol.

Her mouth kept opening and closing as her stare darted from Roadkill, to the gigantic mess in her house, to Ethan.

"Sandy, just take a breath, I can explain," Kelsey said slowly, stepping towards her.

"What...is this..." Sandy whispered. "Why is there a dog in my house?! Why is it a complete wreck? What happened?!" She pointed at Ethan in shock. "Why is Ethan Glenn in my house?"

"He's a friend," Kelsey explained, but immediately regretted it.

"A friend? You're telling me you're friends with—with him?"

Ethan lifted a hand. "Hi."

"Uh, yeah, but don't worry—"

"Are there any other movie stars or—or dogs hiding here?!"

Kelsey glanced at Ethan. "I was just watching Ethan's dog while you were gone. He came by to pick him up. Right?"

Ethan stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Kelsey, I can't—"

"Figure it out," Kelsey hissed, then turned to Sandy with a smile. "I'll explain everything in a minute. Go make yourself some tea, I'll be right there."

She grabbed Ethan's wrist and led him down the hall, Roadkill happily at their heels.

"I'm so sorry, Kelsey, I should've never—"

"You're always getting me in trouble," Kelsey sighed, as she opened her door. "It's almost become rather endearing."

"You're not mad?"

Kelsey bundled up Roadkill's bed and held it in her arms, looking at Ethan with exasperation on her face. "It's not your fault. I'll see if they sell couch cushions on Amazon. Sandy looks like she'd had a bit to drink tonight, so maybe it'll lighten the blow."

Kelsey handed him the blankets and a bag of dog food. "Now get out of here before all hell breaks loose."

She bent down and scratched Roadkill beneath the chin, then hugged him. "I'm gonna miss you, buddy." She looked up at Ethan. "Promise he'll come visit once in a while?"

Ethan nodded. "You have my word."

She watched as Roadkill hopped into the same car that had almost been his demise and as Ethan talked to him excitedly as if he were a person.

Then, she turned to face the house and cringed.

It was bad.

Sandy sat at the kitchen bar, looking dazed as if she'd just survived a disaster. That, Kelsey thought, was almost true.

"Hey," she said quietly, taking a seat on the stool next to her. The smell coming from Sandy's mug was stronger than tea. How much had she had to drink tonight? "I can't apologize enough."

"You'd better start explaining," Sandy replied hollowly.

So, Kelsey did.

She started from the beginning, about how she happened to meet Ethan on the flight to L.A., how her first day at work sucked and she almost hit him with a frying pan, about their kitchen flood, and about Roadkill's accident.

"So where were you today? Why did that dog destroy my house?" Was the first thing Sandy said.

Kelsey's brow bent. After all that, that was Sandy's response? "Oh, well, Ethan and I were, um, out. Seeing the sights."

Sandy ran her finger along the rim of her mug, a deep frown marring her pretty face. "So are you two, like, dating or something?"

"No," Kelsey said quickly, confused by the way the conversation was going. "Sandy, what are you angry about? The house, the dog, or Ethan?"

"Everything!" Sandy cried, her speech a little slurred. "This is my life—here, in L.A. My house is my business, Kel, and now it's a wreck. And no offense, but if people find out about you and Ethan Glenn, it'll ruin my image."

Kelsey blinked.

"And I know it sounds conceited," Sandy admitted, "but I just thought you'd kinda come here and live a quiet life. Like you always have. I felt safe, I guess, with letting you come here."

"Letting me come here?" Kelsey echoed.

Sandy sighed deeply. "I'll put it this way. My life is balanced on a tray—the way I look, act, blog—everything. I might not be a movie star, but I have to keep it together for the blog because I decided to live a public life. And now I'm thinking about starting a YouTube channel to gain more followers. So I had everything perfect. Then, I thought including you would be a peaceful addition. Something that wouldn't tilt the tray."

Kelsey didn't know what to think or feel or say. She couldn't believe that Sandy's selfish words were directed at her.

"And I know it's bad," Sandy continued, "but I hope you understand?"

Kelsey swallowed hard. "No, I don't," she said quietly. "I don't understand how someone as sweet and kind as you can think she owns the entirety of Southern California just because she has a spray tan and a booth at an Etsy convention."

She averted her gaze and went back to her room, burdened with anger and sadness and disappointment.

She repeated the words in her head a million times; she's drunk. She doesn't know what she's saying. She's drunk, it doesn't matter.

But still, alcohol had a way of speaking from the heart.

Kelsey was a "safe" addition to Sandy's lifestyle blog. Not a wanted one.

Kelsey wondered what would happen if she gained more attention for her cooking one day. What if she became a famous chef? What then? Would Sandy pretend not to know her at all?

Wounded pride made itself known within Kelsey. How could she have let herself become a safe option? Sandy had said that she'd "lived a quiet life. Like always." Did that make her unimportant or unnoticeable?

And then there was the thought of Sandy—her dear Sandy—corrupted by ego and status. What had she done to herself?

She was just a shell of who she used to be, hollowed out and filled with a different version of whatever she was now.

Kelsey had now seen her at her worst, when she felt threatened, without the guise of a sweet spirit. She'd always known Sandy had been different since she moved to California, she just hadn't realized how different.

She wrapped up in her blanket and curled up on the bed, letting out a sigh to try and dispel her jumble of thoughts.

She heard a bottle open in the kitchen and, for once, hoped Sandy got drunk enough to forget what she'd said. Maybe they'd both forget.

~~~~~~~~

Kelsey didn't see Sandy the next day, which was a relief. She went to work early, feeling foggy and tired, but wanting to avoid Sandy...and her hangover.

The kitchen was silent when she went in.

She gave a yawn and shoved her things beneath her little table in the corner. She noticed a small stack of recipe cards and picked them up.

On each one, was a recipe.

Cheese puffs, caprese salad, adobo—"What the heck is adobo?" she muttered—glazed skirt steak, mushroom and garlic potatoes, chocolate covered strawberries, and miniature lemon meringue pies.

It didn't take her long before she realized that this was the menu Chef Romano wanted for Becca Lynn's party.

As if on cue, Chef Romano came into the kitchen and dumped her stuff in the corner.

"I'm glad you're here," Kelsey said, standing up and bringing the recipes to her. "Is all of this for the party?"

"Yes."

"I don't think I've made some of these dishes before."

"Practice."

"I—" Kelsey shuffled through the cards. She only had four days to perfect the recipes.

"Okay," she sighed, tapping the cards against her arm before returning to work.

The day passed as usual. She went out to buy more mozzarella and eggs, since the truck missed its delivery, and served lunch.

Once the kitchen closed for the day, Kelsey bent over her recipes and decided to try Chef Romano's cheese puffs.

As much as she loved desserts, she'd never been an expert at choux pastries and had never tried cheese puffs.

She gathered her cheeses, flour, eggs, and butter.

She followed the directions exactly, or so she thought.

After thirty minutes, Kelsey pulled out a tray of flat pastry shells. She frowned and picked one up, cringing at how they were soggy around the edges.

After doing some research, she found out that her batter had been too runny.

She tried again.

This time, her shell rose irregularly with unattractive cracks on the top. She sighed and watched as all of her hard work slid into the trash...on top of her last batch.

When her fourth batch proved even less fruitful, Kelsey was on the brink of tears.

"Are you kidding me?!" She shouted, dumping the stupid shells into the bin forcefully.

She grabbed a couple of eggs too roughly and they broke, sending a geyser of yolk into the air and across the floor.

"Ugh!" Kelsey cried.

Gritting her teeth, she dumped the ingredients into another bowl and stirred it furiously.

She was waiting impatiently for it to cook when her phone rang.

She picked it up absently, watching the timer count down from 10. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," Ethan said. "I was just wondering—"

Kelsey muttered a few choice words as she pulled out yet another pan of ruined choux pastry.

"Are you okay?"

"No!" Kelsey sniffed. "I can't make a freaking cheese puff, no matter how hard I try. I have four days to perfect the recipes for this freaking party—and I can't make a cheese puff," she said, her voice breaking as emotion overtook her and she began to cry. She was so tired, she didn't even care.

"It's okay, Kelsey," Ethan chided, "they're just cheese puffs."

"All I do is sit here and get fat," she wept, "I can't even cook!"

"Kelsey, come on,"

"I'm trying to prove myself, but there's nothing to prove! This is literally the first thing on the list, and I can't even do it! And who knows what the heck adobo is—how's that gonna work?!"

She wiped away her tears, but they kept coming. "This is my one shot, and—and if it's not perfect I—I—"

"Kelsey," Ethan interrupted. "Take a breath."

Kelsey took in a shaky inhale through her nose and held it.

After a long pause, Ethan said, "Okay, you've gotta exhale, dude,"

She did.

"Now, you're going to move on to something new. Don't try to make another batch of...whatever it is you're making. You're already frustrated, so trying again won't help anything. And all that crap about proving something? You've already proven enough to Chef Romano by taking on this responsibility, alright? We both know you can cook and that you're going to do just fine. Okay?"

Kelsey nodded, even though he couldn't see that. "Okay, you're right," she consented, blowing her nose. After a moment of collecting herself, she said, "So, uh, sorry about that."

"It's fine. We all get overwhelmed. Too bad I've never made a cheese puff before. Have you tried adding extra flour?"

Kelsey couldn't help but chuckle. "Shut up. You were calling about something?"

"Yeah, I was wondering how things went after I left last night? With your roommate?"

Kelsey stared down at her hands and swallowed. She closed her eyes. "It wasn't a big deal. No worries."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

~What do you think of Kelsey and Sandy's conversation? 

~Will Kelsey ever make a perfect cheese puff? XD

~General thoughts?

Thank you so much for reading! {Don't forget to comment, vote, and share!}