Chapter Text
No one ever talks about when the strongest people break.
Some believe that breaking is something that weak people do and therefore the strong could never experience such a fate while others believe that if the strongest do break, they were never strong to begin with.
“Babygirl, God will not test you beyond your strength.” I hear my dad’s voice echo through my skull on repeat whenever I don’t want to accept the latter. I’ve had too many close calls throughout my lifetime for me to trust that logic but I guess as long as air is in my lungs I have to believe it. There are days where I’m full of hope, where I see my dreams are actually coming true and things are going in the direction that seems right for me. Then there are days where I wonder if this is it, if this is where I crumble into pieces and cease to exist.
I don't know where I stand now.
My decrease in faith started days before I walked back into The Beef and was presented with tomato sauce covered wads of money and an offer to start a restaurant with my idol of cooking. I was convinced that things were done between us after he berated me so harshly in front of the whole staff that I was left seering with anger and resentment. Earlier that week, Carmy had shut down my idea for the Cola-braised short rib and risotto as a special dish after only one bite while also in the same breath telling me it was ‘tremendous’.
“Chef, it’s not ready yet.”
In the moment, a small voice was telling me that he was lying, that he just didn’t want me to create something that was equal or better than what he had tried to introduce to the staff earlier, that he saw me as competition. Another voice however was telling me that I had lost my spark, that error after error that I had made during my time at The Beef had shown my inability to reach Carmy’s level of innate talent. All in all, It was never my intentions to overstep when I sat the extra plate of short ribs on the customers table.
I had no clue he was a critic and I would’ve never fathomed that his review would lead to a influx of customers that rang through by the dozens that day and flooded our to-go order system that was not ready to be used. I wanted to do right by the situation that we created, figure out how to remediate the situation of him plugging in the preset system without revision from either of us to know if it was open to the public. All we needed to do was move forward with a group ticketing system to fulfill the most important and similar orders first and then if need be, reach out to the customers if we were unable to provide service, especially if we didn’t have the ingredients or bandwidth to do so. It made sense but things were chaotic: Tina dropped Louis on me, Richie was rambling in my ear about me doing sexual favors to get ahead and Carmy was completely mute to logic as he hurled obscenities and violently threw things around like it was going to fix the problem. The way he was red with anger and his spit hit my face as he told me to ‘get the fuck off my expo’ felt like the nail in the coffin for the inch of sanity I had left. All the complex feelings of neglect and poor communication from Carmy mixed with being blamed in full for the stupid error made me feel the crack in my armor.
Richie had tested me too many times for me to handle and I failed myself when I spewed things to him that I wanted to say in the mirror at that moment.
“You’re a loser.”
Next thing I knew, there was blood on the end of my knife that wasn’t mine and it let me know that I couldn’t stay any longer in this environment in risk of doing something further that I’d regret. When Carmy asked if we were good and I told him that were we’re not and that I quit, the look of disbelief on his face as he returned to look at me was recorded to memory. His demeanor changed, all the unruliness disappeared for a brief second while he questioned ‘what are you doing?’ over and over like a boyfriend begging for an answer as to why I would give up on him, give up on us. I told him how I believed in his talent because that could not be denied but couldn’t bear to be around his toxicity and mishandling of my servitude any longer.
“This isn’t on me.”
I meant it. I can take my faults for not double checking the system in time and making sure it wasn’t open to order but I would not take the fall for the breakdown of our relationship over the course of me working there. It was never stellar, one that needed work from the moment I walked into the kitchen but I ignored it because it was Carmy Berzatto. The shiny gold plating of the James Beard Foundation’s Rising Star Award winner and Food and Wine's Best New Chef was peeling off day by day as I dealt with the carnage and unruliness amongst him and his staff.
Carmy initially was confused as to why I would come work for him if we came from a similar culinary background. I came to The Beef with too much experience and was purely overqualified but I was there for him and him only. When I got wind of him being back in town and at a sandwich shop not too far from my home, I jumped on the opportunity to stage and quickly was brought onto the team. Because I understood the hierarchy that comes with positions in a restaurant, he immediately put too much trust into my hands. I thought it was strange but took it with great pride because it was Carmy and Carmy believed in me.
I noticed that I was bearing most of the backlash from staff in regards to the new routine but was expected to not react to the hostility because I needed to pay my dues and be the mature one. Things got slightly better, I paid said dues per say and gained an ounce of respect from everyone as time went on but it wasn’t going to work without Carmy. I needed Carmy to see the vision I had for this place that exceeded just a small sandwich shop, that he shouldn’t waste his abilities on this just because it’s what was left for him after the tragedy of losing his brother. For a second I thought we would gain traction with the article in the paper, a representation of what could happen with accepting change, but then it all went to shit.
So when I found myself storming out of The Beef without a job and with a lack of faith in the one person that had inspired me the most in my journey as a chef, I felt the weakest I’ve felt in years. I stormed home and was ultimately grateful that I had the apartment to myself because I couldn’t contain the sobs as I dropped my bags and fell to the couch. I should’ve been happy to move on from the restaurant and Carmy but it felt like I had just left my partner and his child that I had grown to love right as things were starting to turn around. The pain started in my head as it rang violently from crying so hard but then I was struck with a thought that began gnawing at my head the longer I sat there in silence.
“No, no, no, no…” I try to shake the intrusive thought away but my subconscious keeps egging me to just do it because it knows that it’s what I do when I get this way.
When I started at The Beef, I was ‘clean’ for months and had finally felt at peace enough to manage the voice and feeling I would get but it took a dark turn for me that day. It was like my feet moved without my brain being involved and it took me right to the kitchen where I rummaged through the cabinets. I found a bag of marshmallows that I’m not entirely too sure how long had been there but didn’t care as I started stuffing them into my mouth until it was hard to breathe. I went to the refrigerator where a container of leftover gumbo still sat from two nights before and started scooping mouthfuls without bothering to microwave. I swallowed it all down with half a gallon of my dad’s chocolate milk that he asked me later on if I had touched and I whole-heartedly denied. The concoction was unsavory to my taste buds and once I hit the stage of being filled to the brim like I hadn’t been in months followed by the feeling, I knew I was doomed.
So fast forward to me accepting the chance to move forward with my dreams of creating and operating a high end restaurant with Carmy of all people, I knew I was taking a gamble with my heart and mind. That day he looked at me in a way that some people would look at an angel coming to bring good fortune, protection from ill will and blessings upon mere mortals and it felt good to be on the other end of the worship.
“I’m glad you came back,” He said to me once we finished eating our spaghetti and had successfully counted out the money on the floor of the shop. “We’re going to make this happen, this is ours but this will only work if I have your dedication.”
“You have it as long as I have yours,” I told him as I band a wad of $10,000 together and paused to look him in the eye to detect any deception in his pretty blues. “Do I have your dedication?”
“You have it,” He placed a gentle hand on mine and squeezed. “I’m dedicated to you.”
With his dedication in tow, I am now back in the position of power where he seeks me for strength and guidance through this transition into the next phase of our lives but it’s conflicting for me mentally. I have no choice but to roll with it as we begin stripping everything that was once original. All the character that made it the shitty little sandwich shop gets torn down and I watch everyone struggle with removing the little remnants of Mikey out of the place. My brain was overloaded with depictions of us having to sell the building away to Uncle Jimmy and Carmy having to live with regret of trusting me with the vision of tearing down his family heirloom but Carmy assured me that this was his dream long before I came into the picture.
“My plan was to open The Bear with my brother,” He said as we watched The Original Beef of Chicagoland sign come down. “I guess even though he knew he couldn’t be here to be a part of it, he knew someone special would come along to give me the kick in the ass to make it happen.”
“Am I that special someone?” I asked even though I knew the answer and he responded with a shy bump of our shoulders together and a wink that had me cheesing for the rest of the day whenever I thought about it.
I was able to keep my problem at bay for a decent period of time and for a moment I thought the post-quitting episode was a one and done due to the magnitude of the situation but I was wrong.
We'd been in his apartment, a somewhat bleak and sterile place if I may say so, working on recipes for the menu that we somehow needed to curate to perfection before our opening Friends and Family night. I felt we were on the same page for the first time since the reno began, spitting out recipe ideas back and forth until we began preparing a potential dish. After seeing his chef’s whites thrown hapazardly in a box, I couldn’t help but ask him what it was like getting the three star call while working in New York even though I knew it was a rather sore subject for him.
He was incredibly frank and bleak about the experience, speaking of dread and panic that overwhelmed him so much he couldn’t even seek joy in the moment of success. The speech was off putting, far from what most people would say about receiving such an prestigious accolade at a young age but of course this is Carmy so that is to be expected. His deadpan nature, inability to just be chill and constant franticness is endearing but unfortunately for me also slightly attractive. His unorthodox lack of coolness for an Italian guy from Chicago with tattoos draws me in, awkward in a similar way that I consider myself awkward but less quirky. For a guy who smokes cigarettes (which I’ve grown not to mind the smell of), his physique is unaffected by it as his stocky body is strong and firm while his face resembles something carved into marble before Jesus Christ walked the earth. He takes himself too seriously but isn’t egotistical, never boisterous but can become loud only when he needs to be heard and is completely unaware of the power of his tongue.
“Hey, uh, can I ask you something? And you can tell me to fuck off.” It came nearly an hour later after my initial question and I gave him the space to ask. “You really want one of these bullshit stars?”
Bullshit is not the word that I would use to describe the honor of receiving a Michelin star for the dedication that I put into the dishes I want to create and atmosphere I want to provide. With gained insight, I now understand why he perceived it that way and is so against the idea in the first place. Maybe if I would’ve known how he felt about receiving it the first time, I wouldn’t have opened my mouth to Uncle Jimmy and stated that it was our goal to receive it before the 18 months were up but it’s done now.
“Yeah, yeah I really do.”
“You’re going to have to care about everything more than anything.” His blue eyed stare illuminated by the midday sun was so intense and we just looked at each other as the words sunk in. He understood my drive and wanted to achieve my personal goal for a star but he’s not going to sugarcoat the reality that my best is not going to be enough and that striving for excellence is at the top of the list of to-do’s before everything else.
I opened up to him briefly about my time catering for Sheridan Road since I felt that he had given me a piece of his backstory, it only felt right to give a piece of mine. It was something I swore off talking about, too painful of a memory to speak on, but with him the story just came flying out like it was a humorous tale of trial and error where in reality it was detrimental to my mental health at that moment.
Some people say time heals all wounds and speaking on it with him gave me the clarity to recognize that I made it past the lows of that particular time of my life and am currently on an upswing. He complimented my father for being reliable but that’s just the kind of man he is so my standards are high for men because of it (aside from him). When he asked about my relationship with my mother, I was not sure if I could go there with him so I blew it off with a quiet ‘yeah’ and distracted from any further personal questions from there. When we fuck up the measurements of the acid, he showed me a hand gesture where he rubs circularly against his chest to signal as a I’m sorry and lets talk about this later and I copied it like a mirror, feeling special that he chose me to share that with.
A few days later we had a plan to send Marcus to Coppehagen, Tina and Ebra to culinary school but yet not one of our dishes has come out successful upon creation. He came up with the bright idea to go taste testing to reset our pallets and at first I thought it’s a bullshit ploy to send me home for fucking up the marinade but he shot me a location, Kasama, to start and told me he’ll meet me there in an hour.
I would be a liar if I said I didn’t rush home with a small pit of butterflies in my stomach. It was research, a time for us to get inspiration for our menu but a part of me liked the idea of getting out together and sharing our passion for food somewhere other than the restaurant.
“It’s not a date, bitch. Just be cool about it.” I had to coach myself in the mirror before I sifted through my closet that’s filled with clothes that I don’t get to wear that often because I have nowhere to go and am convinced would never look good on me. I got undressed and stared at my body in the mirror for a little too long before I put down the pleated skirt and settled for jeans, a button up and a sweater vest to cover up what I don't like. The train ride consisted of me drowning out my self loathing in exchange for the music in my ears that sang mellow ballads about love and reemergence that I found some connection to.
When the damn thing breaks
I'll be there to take you home,
When the damn thing breaks
I'll be there to take your pulse
I pulled up outside the restaurant right on time expecting to see him already sitting inside but he wasn’t there yet so I waited by the door. I shot over several texts letting him know I had arrived but they went unanswered which was unlike him. I chalked it up to either driving or poor connection on the subway so I headed inside and placed a rather large order that was meant for the both of us.
I tried not to dwell on his lateness as I conjured up blurry visuals of potential dish ideas until our food was sat in front of me. I checked my messages once again and still no response and that’s when I began to worry that I had been stood up. It was upsetting because he was the one who suggested we come here and make a day for ourselves and I was confident that this outing was going to push us forward. I was ready to open myself up so that he could get to know the real me beyond the resume and get more of his story in return but yet he was nowhere to be found. My hands stacked the hash brown in the sandwich and I took a big bite right as my phone dinged with a new message. For a few seconds I felt a sense of relief that I knew he’s alive and well but was ultimately crushed by what I read.
Carm : Sorry, have to bail today. Keep jamming on hiring or just take the day off, whatever you want.
There’s no explanation and his tone regarding the work that needs to be done seems so blasé that it’s poignant. My brain was evil as it told me it’s either a punishment for continuously fucking things up or maybe he had better things to do that don’t involve myself. I reacted with a thumbs up but everything was far from okay. The amount of food triggers something in my head that I was for sure wouldn’t come back but yet I can’t help but devour everything that's in front of me while I think about what he could be doing instead of being with me.
Once done, I threw on my coat and headed out into the city where I would go restaurant to restaurant completing my initial duties of getting as much information from other chefs and spreading the word of our need for staff as I should be.
Every place I went to offered me more than knowledge, they offered me food.
I consumed and consumed and consumed until I thought I was going to pop from the overload of it all but yet I kept eating. Every chef I visited bestowed their wisdom and expertise but every single one of them left me with a warning about doing business with someone else.
“Make sure it's someone you can trust.”
“We had a terrible business partner who took all of our money and flew off to Hawaii. I wish that wasn’t a common story in the business but these things happen all the time.”
“Partner? Ah, got it…been there. Just, you know, listen to your gut.”
I sat in an ice cream diner that my dad has taken me to countless times when I deserved a special treat after stellar report cards and good behavior which ended up being more often than not. I scoffed down a large sundae and just people watched because my brain needed a break from being overloaded with a shit ton of information and negative thoughts about my future. A mother and daughter sat across from me sharing a laugh, something that I can’t remember ever experiencing, and I had to dive further into my ice cream to push back the tears.
When I got the random idea to stop by the restaurant to get an update on if anyone else stopped by and to check the progress of the clean up, I was genuinely surprised Carmy was there to open the door. For someone who had to bail on me hours before, he looked to have been here for at least a portion of it instead of coming to meet me where I was. Richie, Fak and Marcus had seemingly knocked down a large wall that separated the front of house from the back dining area where we used to sit and have family in. Fak explained how all the dead creatures, the growing infestation and poor infrastructure lead to the coming down of the wall but I still felt completely out of the loop. When I questioned the validity of doing so without contacting me first, Carmy reacted as if I was being unreasonable.
“What you would’ve preferred that we-”
“Call me?” I furrowed my eyebrows at him because it was an idiotic question.
“Call you to tell you that the walls are rotting and need to be knocked down?” He approached me and stood so close that I could lean forward a few inches and our lips would touch. Earlier in the day before him not showing up, the close contact would’ve given me a serotonin boost but in that moment I felt he didn’t deserve to be that close to me.
“Yeah, exactly.” I backed away but yet he followed like he needed to be near me. I could feel Richie staring at us as he asked for a clear explanation as to what I want from him going forward and he had the nerve to be sarcastic after I told him how it made me feel.
“Next time the walls need to be knocked down and there’s nothing that I can do about it-”
“You let me know.” I shook my head in disappointment and that’s when he realized that this was bigger than just the wall.
“Okay,” He nodded in understanding that he had no grounds to say anything but a yes to me. “I’ll let you know.” He used his fist to rub large circles several times over his heart in apology but I couldn’t bring myself to send one back because I did nothing wrong. I halfheartedly accepted the apology while Richie instigated that he had just witnessed some type of lovers quarrel between us.
From there was a calling to go home and spend the rest of the night fostering over the potential danger of staying in this partnership without a safetynet but I ignored the pull and decided to go work on my craft. I spent the next few hours after the already exhausting day I had working on the dish that I could see so clearly in my head that I was sure had some grounds for success. When I took the first bite and it hit my tongue with a bitter yet tasteless twang, I gave up on the little hope I had for it and was forced to accept the fucked up position that I had allowed myself to end up in once again. The feeling crept up on me like a scary man in a dark alley ready to rob me of my dignity and I knew I needed to get home as soon as possible.
The train didn’t move fast enough and I nearly sprinted into the apartment that thankfully was empty for the night and headed straight for the bathroom. I stripped off my coat immediately and actively avoided looking in the mirror in fear of seeing the shame that lied in my reflection. I stood in front of the toilet, rocking back and forth on my heels as I contemplated my next move, unsure if I wanted to fall back into this unhealthy pattern after one bad day but the lack of control pushed me over.
I succumb and do what I always do, I kneel.