6. My Heart Will Go On.

I savored the satisfying crunch as I finished my warm, freshly baked buns and settled into my seat. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, enticing my senses. The dishes I had prepared were exquisite, boasting succulent Wagyu-based meats and other tantalizing cuts sourced from Pennsylvania. Samuel and Bran had become regular visitors, always finding their way to my kitchen for a delicious meal.

I had lost track of time in my culinary world until I glanced at my phone, realizing an entire week had slipped by. Brushing off the realization, I took a sip of my coffee, relishing its rich flavor, before indulging in a large bite of the masterpiece I had created - a heavenly wagyu duck pie. The crust was a delight, perfectly flaky and buttery, while the combination of eggs and cream added a luscious juiciness. The tangy hint of onion provided the perfect balance to the savory filling.

Bran and Samuel had been diligently observing Mimi's baking rituals for an entire week. The sweet aroma of freshly baked goods filled the air, as Mimi skillfully crafted her delectable creations. Damon had arrived just a day ago, succumbing to Mimosa's seductive charms and finding solace in her embrace.

Oblivious to Mimi's presence, Damon remained unfazed, as Bran held onto the belief that Damon would rectify any consequences that arose from their tryst. Secretly, Bran had stumbled upon a few prophecies hinting at this situation, compelling him to keep Damien's secret hidden.

Despite Mimi's occasional intimidating demeanor, Bran couldn't help but empathize with her as she tirelessly baked and cooked and kept her thoughts to herself. Mimi would shower but refuse to sleep, leaving her experiences unspoken. It was then that Bran's compassion sparked an idea to assist Mimi.

He logged into his email and discovered a plethora of companies eager to hire supernaturals for temporary positions. This could be the perfect opportunity for Mimi to interact with people, acquire new skills, and make progress in her life. Determined, Bran began scouring for a suitable job that would benefit everyone involved. With the arrangements completed, he set off to inform the group of their respective destinations, eager to share the news. 

Bran came up to me as I was washing the dishes and said, " We've got some PR gigs coming up again. How would you like to go to a chocolate job? There's one place you'd probably enjoy it."

I said, "Sure. Sure, I could go. It'd be fun to learn that technique, too. I already studied it at the last gig and am keen to learn new things."

Bran gave me the details of my gig.

He said, "Damon is going to a nightclub to be a bartender, and Adam is going to be a personal security guard for a family. And I'm going to a bank to be an assistant manager. Loan department. To see who's lying and who's not. Samuel's going to an infertility clinic that specializes in supernaturals if you can find some help. Either a contraceptive or something that allows you to get pregnant, but Colin thinks it might be the feline part of this that's not ready yet. It's probably contraception."

I nodded. That was for the best. Apparently, my evolution was still in progress, and I didn't even know what I was becoming.

Damon was having a pretty rowdy time with Mimosa, and I was okay with that. Somehow, I just wasn't in the frame of mind to even consider having sex. Or actually doing anything terribly intimate. Being on the lap or anything like that.

My gig was starting tomorrow, so I went to take a shower and read. I read all night. I'm not sleeping, not for a while. And I'm not advertising it anywhere or to anyone. It's my business.

I put on my proper clothes and went for a brisk drive in the morning. Mimosa had come to my head in the early hours of the morning, and she was very pleased. She should be in my head again for a while, and then she will always last longer.

We arrived at the location, and the sight that greeted us was a grand, expansive house instead of a factory. As we entered the premises, my eyes were immediately drawn to the five cars parked in the employees' parking lot in the spacious yard. I would soon join them, becoming the sixth vehicle in the lineup.

Having watched many baking and chocolate shows, I was familiar with the process of chocolate work, but my own hands-on experience was limited. To prepare myself, I spent countless nights studying the theory and poring various recipes. I wanted to have some knowledge beforehand, even though I was eager to absorb new information like a sponge. They say that practice makes perfect, and I was ready to dive in headfirst.

Upon entering the building, a man approached me. I couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised by his appearance, resembling none other than George Clooney. He introduced himself as the boss of the establishment and informed me I would be taught by another man named Simon; he reminded me of Michael Shanks and really uncannily resembled a clone of the actor. There was also a blond version of Johnny Depp and a blond version of Orlando Bloom. Last, there was a striking resemblance to Robert Downey Jr. among them.

Despite their uncanny similarities, they had completely different names, and they found it amusing when I pointed out their striking resemblances to famous actors. It's no wonder that my mind, clouded by silver madness, often associates real-life people with characters from TV series. Little did I know I didn't need to go to Hollywood or anywhere else to find these familiar faces; they were right here at the chocolate factory.

I felt comfortable in their presence, and the boys were enthusiastic about teaching and sharing their knowledge. When I mentioned I was still a surgeon, their admiration was clear. We began our work under the guidance of Simon, who reminded me of Michael Shanks in both height and physique. However, his most captivating feature was his long, nimble fingers, which moved with remarkable dexterity. Observing his work was a genuine pleasure.

Under Simon's instruction, I learned the art of tempering and casting chocolate. Our task for the day was to make bonbons. It was an enjoyable process, although my chocolate didn't always turn out perfect, and my fillings had occasional imperfections. I struggled with finding the right balance of flavors, as I hadn't yet mastered the art of combining taste and chocolate. Simon assured me it would come with time and experience. He handed me recipe books but emphasized that experience was the best teacher, and each chocolatier had their own unique approach to creating bon bons.

As the days progressed, we ventured into more creative endeavors. We crafted a chocolate coffee cup with a delectable mocha mousse filling; even the plate on which it sat was made entirely of chocolate. Sharing my experiences of watching various TV shows sparked new ideas in Simon's mind for future projects. 

I made long days. I left before six in the morning because I wanted to be there by seven, and the drive took its own time. I got home after five in the evening, just after Damon had left. I was alone in the main bedroom, which I had decorated but had not consecrated. I was not in the mood at all.

I always ate, drank, showered at home, and planned for the day ahead. Adam was rarely home because he was now living with the family, and I heard him complain to Samuel about how the two teenage girls in the family were trying to seduce him—or bribe or blackmail him. 

I relished every moment of this gig, the vibrant atmosphere filling me with joy. It felt secure, allowing me to immerse myself in the experience with no worries. Instead of heading to the medbay, I pushed forward, eagerly expecting the challenges that lay ahead.

While I wasn't timid or afraid, a lingering thought crossed my mind - had my relationship with Damon come to an end? He had made no physical contact, merely fulfilling his role as a doctor in the medbay. And when he returned, he had not touched or even talked to me before heading off to Mimosa.

Regardless, I resolved not to dwell on these uncertainties, as overthinking would only tie me in knots, ultimately making me believe it was all my fault. Perhaps Damon's disinterest in me had been present for a while, causing our once passionate connection to fade away. Maybe our once so bright spark had now lost, faded away. Maybe the awful six weeks of torture in the shed occurred because Damon no longer saw me as someone he cared about. I really didn't know. 

The gig extended beyond its intended duration, stretching from two weeks to a full month. There was no reason to stop, especially when Damon left his phone and wallet behind on his second day of work, adhering to his three-day rule. Typically, I couldn't last more than three days at any given gig, sometimes even less.

I learned to temper the chocolate, although I still stumbled occasionally. My dexterity as a surgeon proved helpful as I explored the world of chocolate, discovering the nuances between white, ruby, dark, and milk varieties. Some of them were very temperamental to handle and not so easy to work with, but then when I got it right, oh, it felt good. Like I had done something amazing. 

Men taught me and ignited my passion for being a chocolatier. It aided me in crafting exquisite chocolate cakes filled with delectable ingredients. I became well-versed in distinguishing true chocolate from imposters, with coffee and mocha being closely associated, while chili failed to captivate my taste buds. Surprisingly, bacon paired wonderfully with chocolate, and we even experimented with savory chocolate creations.

We were having fun sometimes, and they were at first a little overwhelmed when they heard torrents of swear words erupting from my lips when I didn't get something done correctly, but soon, they got used to the fact that my mouth was very descriptive, with swearing and cursing like a sailor. 

Working alongside my male colleagues, I returned home each day enveloped in the scents of unfamiliar men, intertwined with the aroma of chocolate and the essence of our daily endeavors. Damon was conspicuously absent from the house, leaving behind his wallet and phone after the initial three days.

This became my primary focus, as my ability to fixate on things with obsessive precision kicked in. I engaged in various chocolate-related tasks, managing some with ease while carefully packing the rest in a box to bring home at the end of the day. Although it took longer, I embraced any opportunity that presented itself.

Adam reached his breaking point after enduring a week and a half of relentless teenage drama. The air was thick with tension as he walked away. On the other hand, Bran lasted only a week before succumbing to the mind-numbing boredom of the job. The silence in the office was deafening, with no one willing to fabricate lies to make things seem better than they were.

As for Samuel's gig, the details eluded me, but I found solace in my experience. That month, they had brought me a much-needed recharge. I had immersed myself in the company of others, engaging in conversations about anything but the tiresome ordeal. It granted me some much-needed distance, allowing me to rediscover the joy of living. 

Thoughts of my relationship with Damon had taken a backseat in my mind. I adopted an attitude of acceptance, understanding that our connection would thrive in the space between us. I had learned to find happiness in alternative ways, out of necessity. Deliberating over Damon's actions was something I wished to avoid; the mere thought of him solely attending gigs seemed unfathomable. It was easier to not dwell on it at all. I just didn't want to think of the alternative. It felt somehow so awful to think of him with other women, even if it would have been just fucking. So it was better not to think of him at all.

Now, I felt ready to re-assume my role as a leader. It was time to tackle the occasional mundane tasks that came with the position. Fortunately, I already had a well-established global organization to oversee, providing a sense of purpose and direction. Once again, it was time to be a Flea leader and immerse myself in that.