DAY (-1)

Sapiensa. All the blood, sweat, and tears compiled into a name, shining in a hologram restaurant sign. Weirdly, I have treated the name like a title of a project on my desk, always looking down at it with a pen and a paper, drawing the imaginary building, and writing the recipes of the dishes I'd cook.

Now, I'm looking up at it as if it's my child who is now taller than me.

The three stars appears below Sapiensa's name. My joy exceeds the infinity of this universe's width. Even in a time where the shadows of skyscrapers drown the sun while neon-colored hologram lights become an essential, my restaurant's sign outshines them in my eyes.

My wristwatch beeps, the vibration shifts my gaze to my wrist. It's just 30 days in to the new year, but somehow orders don't rest.

I have been rejecting bookings lately, because Sapiensa is so new to this achievement as a "three-Holostar restaurant."

LARA: Morning, Ms. Edisa. I have a potential customer who wants to book you tomorrow for their birthday dinner, Eli Wright from the conglomerate art-historian family.

Suddenly, accepting this particular order feels interesting. It is the first time someone books Sapiensa for a fancy birthday party. Three Holostars sure has its own perks.

I press the "Record Reply" button.

"Hey, Lara. Please accept this order. Limit their guests to twenty people and tell them, I'm ready for tomorrow." The recording stops and sends itself to my assistant.

The cold haze passes by me as I walk through it, entering the door. I go into the kitchen.

"Hello, Miles. Hello, Ruby." My voice croaky as I greeted, waving at two people in the kitchen.

Ruby, the short, curly-redhead girl smiles and waves at me. I smile a bit, despite my tired eyes. My chefs have a way to restore the bits of joy in my gloomy days.

"Chef Wanda, hi!" The saucier's freckled cheeks crinkle as she grins.

"Morning, Chef. Which dish should we continue experimenting? Or do we have orders to prepare?" Miles greets me.

I look at the becspectacled, brown-haired boy with my eyebrows furrowed. Experiment dish? What is my senior chef talking about?

Realization freezes me for a while. Memories of yesterday's plan to marinate the beef patties come back to me. Shit. I forgot we are experimenting dishes. I shake the frustration away, having no time to think about it.

"We have an order to prepare. I'm accepting this one to challenge myself as head chef and all of you as a cook. I'll brief what we'll do with the patties when the rest of the team is here, but for now..." I begin tying my brown hair.

"Prepare yourself with last year's May and September's recipes. Pass it to everyone as they enter the door."

"On it, Chef." Ruby walks to the office room, picking up the archive folder.

I watch for a while as she prints some copies before turning my eyes to the empty stoves and tables. Leaning my hands on one of the tables, I sigh out the cold, sad tension inside my chest that somehow took form in the air I breathe.

"Are you okay, Chef?" Miles' voice lowers into a worried tone.

I smile a bit, closing my eyes. At least in this kitchen, people still care about me.

"Yeah... I am." I let the dark behind my eyelids blind me from his expressions.

I couldn't bear to let my chefs carry my burden.

"Alright, Chef. We are here for you like you are for us."

I open my eyes and nod numbly.

Minutes pass by as more people come in to greet me and take Ruby's printed copies of the recipes. The team is finally complete, consisting of 23 chefs.

"Let's begin." My voice reach to the back of the kitchen.

"Today is January 30th, 6202. We are the recipient of Holostars Culinary Awards, earning us three stars on December 29th last year. Now, don't clap your hands, one day of wine on our first day of work this year was enough." I lighthearted joke, earning few chuckles and smiles.

"However, as I have explained on that very date, being January 3rd, I don't wish for us to accept customers as freely like the two years Sapiensa has opened. Just as a refresher, there are two reasons for this: One, Sapiensa's mission is to evoke everyone's human side through food. We live in a world where most of the population are Mechahumans. Historically, the Mecha sentient is a human creation. In the end, the most important part of you is the human one; even Mechas acknowledge that." I look at everyone in the kitchen, their temples are robotic metal.

"Second, the philosophy applies to you too as chefs. Since the award comes with an overwhelming surge of bookings and demands, to overwork you is to betray what I have built Sapiensa for. But I understand that as chefs, you can only feel content by fulfilling your purpose: to cook with love for someone who will love what you cook. This month, we focused on experimenting dishes and we have succesfully created five new recipes. Although the fridge holds an ongoing experiment, we'll still make burgers for anyone who would try it. Think of it as a great impression of what this year would look like." I take out my phone, consisting of messages from Lara.

"We are cooking for Eli Wright's birthday dinner, serving twenty people for tomorrow." I put down my phone, listening to the excited gasps.

"Now, let's not tire ourselves by giving an entire exclusive menu. We'll serve a combination of May and September's menu. The only thing exclusive is the five experimental dishes and the burgers in our fridge. Today, we marinate what needs to be marinated. Bake the cake. Make whatever that takes longer than a day. Ready?"

"Yes, Chef!" The kitchen shout in unison.