Achilleus, the esteemed head chef of a prestigious Parisian restaurant, set off on a transformative culinary expedition across continents, seeking inspiration to revitalize his menu. Under the starlit sky, Achilleus stood amid the vibrant tapestry of a bustling California night market. The fragrant aroma of spices hung in the air as he walked off hurriedly in anxiety of being eaten by the voices around him, he lunged into a bigger figure, being embraced as if it was the natural thing to do.

Oh shit! This is just so embarrassing.

“Ack! Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to crash into y…”

Oh?

Oh.

This man before him, he looks like a sculpture. Achilleus couldn’t remember the last time he saw someone like this up close, but it was nice to see. Because as much as he loved food, Achilleus also loved some eye candy.

Then again, as much as he would love to stare, he is too much of a pussy to open his mouth for anything.

“I uh, I was looking for a certain chef called Mo? Do you perhaps happen to know where his restaurant is?”

Oh Achilleus, you sneak. There isn’t any chef Mo around here is there? You’re just trying to get this stranger to walk with you.

“Excusez-moi? S'il vous plaît, aidez-moi…”