i don't feel. i don't think. i just cook. you see, i don't let my feelings or emotions get in the way of a fabulous dish. one twinge of doubt leads to an undercooked roast. another strike of fear leads to under seasoned potatoes. and worst of all, a single hint of uncertainty leads to losing. so i don't lose. i always win. and i don't dapple in silly feelings.

-BEGINNING OF COMPETITION-

i take three deep inhales as i tie my apron on. no one is getting between me and the title of "Best Chef"- and being a woman, no less! i start prepping my ingredients when i hear the announcers start to speak. "Competing in this renowned restaurant is Dana Alexine, Jamie Douglas, Michelle Robinson, and Derek Horgan. Let the competition begin!" i freeze. Jamie Douglas? his name sounds so.......familiar. i shake my head to clear it. get back on track. start cracking eggs, chopping potatoes, kneading meat. jamie comes round the table and smiles. "hi. i feel like i remember you." i blush, but silently kick myself. "yes. i'm sorry, i must continue my prep." he nods. i dart my head down and continue my work. he watches from his kitchen silently, only slicing some veggies here and there. glimpses of a curly-haired boy with the same warm eyes and teasing smile appeared in my head every slice. the knife reflected a small girl, looking just like me, only younger. i slam the knife down, and i feel his eyes burn into the side of my head, and i yell, "don't you have work to do?" he doesn't seem to mind. jamie smiles and continues his batter. the tone sounds, our time is up, and our plate should be finished. mine is complete, save a dash of flaky salt. jamie's scallion pancakes were only half cooked, with a brown crust at the bottom of one of them. as i walked up to present my dish, i felt a hint of something unsaid. halfway to the table, i stopped. i wheeled around, facing jamie. this wasn't real. i felt my vision blurring. dana, remember, you do not have feelings. do not let them get in the way of your goals. so i reluctantly set the plate down and said in a flat, monotone voice: "i have made a-a-" i turned on my toes. "i have made a feeling." jamie smiled. "i thought i knew you." he was........my childhood friend? he was my best friend. why did he.....when did he..... oh. i do remember. he left to new york to become a real chef, not just a teenager starter-upper. i feel remembering tears burn into my eyes. he opens his arms and this time i do not hesitate and walk straight into them.