|OPEN| THAI FOOD FOR THE THOUSANDS

[CAPPY JUNE ELWING]

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Cappy had been at Mayview since about half five that morning, working away in the kitchen. She usually was. A few years ago, functioning on less than four hours of sleep had been a struggle – but with her usual determination, the young woman had beaten herself into submission. Yes, she was tired, and often on the point of breaking down, but her steel will power meant that she no longer noticed. It didn't hold her back. Neither did the fact that she was still engulfed by the last dregs of the fuzzy numbness that came with her alcoholism. In fact, the only thing which was a significant obstacle to the girl that Tuesday morning was her own damned perfectionism.

The tray of food in front of her would feed fifty. And it would feed fifty well. The quality of Cappy's cooking was undeniable – and to the less than civilized palates of the students, this meal would be delicious. Hell, it would be delicious to anyone. But Cappy looked at it, friendly face scrunched into a furious scowl, and knew she could have done better. Her hands shook in tight fists at her side as she stared at her work. Her waves of warm red hair her frizzy with heat and with sweat. Her back ached. There was the familiar but unforgiving pounding in her head and churning in her stomach which signaled the inevitable hang over. And her work wasn't good enough.

In a moment of rage, Cappy took the tray and tipped it away into the trash disposal – her movements quick and aggressive as she internally cursed herself for her perceived incompetence. She took a step back, and her shoulders slumped as she heaved a few heavy breaths... before turning sharply on one heel, and running to the toilet. Dropping to bruised knees which gave away the familiarity of the action, she leant over and was quietly but painfully sick. A minute passed. She got up, washed her face, rinsed her mouth and went outside. Shaking hands went to her hip-flask as she sat beneath a tree, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket. She was fine. She had a drink. And in a minute, she would go back to the kitchen, and try once more to achieve perfection. It was so early that the young woman never considered for a second that someone might come across her in her less-than-composed state.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

[IAN ALEX USTCH]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 600px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/JQRSDqF.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius:100px 100px 100px 100px; border: 3px solid #ffffff;] cause i'm tnt, i'm dynamite.. outfit visual † song from that ^ an obnoxious beeping awoke ian at four thirty on this fine friday morning, just as it did every morning. the man rose from his bed, stretching a ridiculous extent before climbing from his bed. his eyes might as well have been closed, because as he tried to make his way from his bed to the bathroom, he hit the door and numerous walls. by the time he reached the toilet, he was rubbing his head, which was red with irritation. growling at his own foolishness, ian emptied his bladder, and washed his hands, splashing freezing water on his face before staring at it for a good minute or two, his face expressionless. finally, a joyous smile spread across his mouth, and claimed it all the way back to his closet. upon opening the massive doors, ian quickly pulled his running shoes, shorts, and sweat jacket from the lower shelf, letting the doors slam behind him. never one to be sensitive to others sleeping at four in the morning, ian pulled on his work out gear and skipped off. he hit the gym for an hour, and decided to run for another. by the time he reached ms. cappy june elwing's domain, the boy was drenched in sweat, and heaving ridiculously. he'd arrived just in time to see the young chef's break out, appearing to be frustrated with the food she'd prepared, although it smelled absolutely wonderful. ian had never really had a true conversation with her, so she wasn't a real close friend, although they had engaged in small talk over the three years he'd been there. and, ian being ian, he would never turn away from an upset person, especially if said person was a female. so, still huffing and puffing to the point where he couldn't talk, ian jogged over to cappy, where she stood under a tree, smoking a cigarette. you.. know.. the words were pained, and extremely aspirated, although he tried hard to force them out. smoking.. is really.. bad for your.. lungs. exhausted from the talking, ian leaned over his knees and continued to breathe. only after he got his breath back did he stand back up, the slight breeze cooling his face and hopefully taking away the redness. do you have one of those i can bum? i don't really smoke, but a toke once in awhile ain't nothing to be ashamed of. besides, it'll give me a reason to stick around and listen to why you're so damn upset. ian offered one of his best smiles, hoping she didn't take the words a flirty. cappy was a beautiful woman, but not ian's type, at least he didn't think so. regardless, he was dying to know what was wrong, and hoped that she'd trust him enough to confide.

[/td][/tr][/table]

there can be only one mikey! of caution 2.0[/center]