But The Future Must Be Met

24 Eggs Divided By 13 Men Equals One Headache

I nod.

"We can always just buy breakfast."

I have to smile at the idea. "I was hired because it's too expensive to do that, you know. Go sit down. I'll bring it in when it's done."

"Can you really make Korean food?"

"I can." I switch on the hob, the ones under the two large pots of broth, and begin my search for the third pot to boil noodles in.

"I don't believe you."

"While you're not believing me, can you go and wake up the others? Ah and don't forget your neighbours."

"Who – oh, the others."

I am true to my promise, and surprisingly, the bread came out of the toaster oven perfectly. I have to balance thirteen bowls and a fistful of chopsticks, but I make it to the table in the middle of the room without breaking anything. Wild.

"Oh hey, you're here, that's a thing. Okay." Joshua patted me on the shoulder. "What's for breakfast?"

"Chicken in nood- you know what? Just wait and let me bring it out."

"Do you need any help?"

"No." Yes.

He scowls at me when I return with one pot of noodle soup. "Why are there only thirteen bowls?"

I have to hide my smile. "Cause thirteen members plus three units plus one team equals Seventeen."

"Don't you need to eat?"

"The chef does not eat with the diners, that's just etiquette." I gently put the ladle in the pot. "Eat. I'll bring more out."

"That's stupid."

It takes an absolutely ridiculous amount of restraint to not reply with a scathing retort, but somehow, I manage to dull the sass. Within a few minutes, they are diving onto the noodles, shunning my beautiful bread.

"Where's the rice?"

"There is no rice."

"What do you mean there's no rice?" Jihoon glares at me. "You have to have rice."

"There is two kilograms of rice left in the cupboard. There's not a grain of it in the other dorm, either. That's enough to feed you boys a snack and a meal. I have to go to the mart to get some more."

"Oh." That kind of sated him. "When are you going?"

"That strongly depends on when you guys are done at practice."

Vernon pauses, noodles pouring out of his mouth. "ffat ffuffends."

"Yes, I know it depends. Please don't talk while you chew, or you'll upset your digestion. In the meantime, there's bread for carbohydrates and egg for protein, so eat up while I pack you your morning snacks." It doesn't take me long to pack the cooler with the remaining rice balls, and then I have time to scarf down my own portion of noodles.

It's been more than twenty-four hours since I had something decent to eat. My noodles have never tasted better.

I'm almost sated when I hear significant shuffling, and I rush out of the kitchen in a sprint. "Yo!"

"What?"

I hand Minghao, the last one still in the doorway, the cooler. "Please put this in the back of the car to eat if you get hungry."

He nods once, taking it from me. "Goodbye – oh?"

I stand, waiting.

"What's your name?"

I purse my lips a little. "Loxley."

"Oh, goodbye Loxley."

"Goodbye, Minghao."

It's bitter, I'll admit that much, but I understand it, I suppose. They aren't used to dealing with another person, so asking for my name is a step too far in the thinking process, and I'm sure they have a lot on their minds.

It's not until I'm back in the living room that I sigh, deeply. Dishes. I'd forgotten the dishes. I haven't washed other people's dishes since I was a teenager. I'm not a kitchen wench, I'm a cook. I don't do the washing up.

I start to stack the empty bowls, putting them in the empty soup pans. There's some of the bread left – yes, carbs please! – but the rest has been absolutely devoured, including two-dozen eggs.

I don't know why they had that many eggs in the fridge and little to no rice, but I'm going to have to buy more. Most of them are trying to bulk up, and they need the protein.

Except Seungkwan, I think stubbornly as I run the hot water. Baby Seungkwan's gotta keep his cotton candy cheeks.

Honestly, cleaning utensils is a pain in the ass, but it's fine, I'll deal. All the utensils have to be brought to the practice room later for lunch anyway, so they had better be clean. Besides – it's not like it's not a labour of love.

I sigh. Yes, I love them. Always have, always will, in a succinct, older-sister kind of way. I've been watching them make fools of themselves for so long, it's hard not to love them. Hard not to feel satisfaction watching them eat well. Hard not to dote on them, even though they're upset with me.