Free Soufflés at Sunrise by M.J. O'Shea and Anna Martin

well. We barely know each other, but I can’t imagine not liking him. So it’s kind of fun just to play along.” Sometimes. Sometimes it was a pain in the ass. At least it had been the week before.
    Breon nodded. “Hopefully it doesn’t get weirder.”
    “No time for it to, Jesus. If they stick us together on a challenge, I suppose we’re going to have to clash more visibly. I’m not sure how we’ll manage that. I’m not exactly an actor.”
    “Yeah, none of us are. We’re behind the scenes in the kitchen, right?”
    Chase was glad Breon saw how stupid it all was. “Exactly. Okay, done with the fruit. They’re going to call time in thirty seconds.”
    Breon watched the clock, and just as time was running out, he drizzled their dressing over the fruit and lightly sprinkled it on the tower in the middle.
    “Time!” Chase said right as the buzzer went off. “We made it.”
    “That wasn’t too bad. Hopefully the judges buy our masterpiece of New York architecture.”
    Chase grinned. He and Breon exchanged high fives.
    They carried their tray up to the judging table and set it down. Basil looked pinched like he always did every time Chase saw him. He’d had an immediate bad reaction to him. The other two Chase didn’t know much about just yet. He supposed he was going to get to know them fairly quickly.
    He looked up when Diego called him and Breon to the table. Judgment time.
    They were the second team to be called up to talk through their creation, after Al and Jenna, who had underwhelmed the judges. Chase let Breon talk to start, explaining his ideas for the glaze, which was really the standout element of the dish.
    “Why don’t you tell us about the choice of fruits, Chase?” Emilio said as he dug his fork into the big pile of star fruit.
    “I—uh,” Chase stammered, then pulled himself together and launched into the spiel they’d discussed about the different fruits. Emilio nodded along, Nicolette took a small bite of each of the fruits, then set her fork down, and Basil didn’t look impressed.
    “Balsamic and fruit isn’t the most original combination,” Basil said. “But it works, I’ll grant you that.”
    Chase nodded but didn’t trust his voice, so he didn’t say anything else. Breon thanked the judges and took the half-finished plate back to their station.
    Kai and his partner, Aaron, were up next, and Chase watched with growing horror as the judges tore their creation apart. For some reason Aaron had decided to make some kind of unsweetened custard instead of a dressing, which looked like scrambled eggs on the plate. It was disgusting—Chase knew it, the judges definitely did, and by the murderous look on Kai’s face, he knew how bad the situation had just gotten for him.
    Fortunately the challenge wasn’t a make-or-break, and no one was being sent home on the back of it. The losers of the challenge—Kai and Aaron, just as Chase had expected—would have time deducted in the final task of the week, which would be tomorrow.
    His stomach clenched. Chase hoped Kai could pull off something incredible with less time than the rest of them. Otherwise he could be in trouble.
     
     
    I T HAD become a thing for the cast to gather up on the rooftop garden every night after dinner. There was a pool, shallow but brightly lit against the dark Los Angeles sky, groups of chairs, potted plants, and heat lamps for winter, which Chase thought was laughable. Winter. Please . Like LA got anything that could be considered winter. Everyone was a glass of wine or two into the evening, and the group wasn’t exactly quiet. Kai waved him over and made room on the love seat he’d been lounging on.
    Chase sat down near Kai but made a point not to touch him. It was really weird not to touch him when they spent so much time doing just that any chance they could get. Chance meaning alone. Their only chance to really touch was when they were alone. And of course they weren’t. Polly was on the roof with them,