The Chef x The Celebrity
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~ Date: June – Interstellar Year 2422 ~
~ Location: Luna Bellflower Moon ~ Terra Anka PXD2422
~ The Golden Dragon Star Nexus Intergalactic Empire ~
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🐦🔥 [ Phoenix ☯ POV ] 🐦🔥
The room did not return to normal all at once.
Nix snapped back to himself with the taste of ash and sandalwood still clinging to the back of his throat. The Chronostatic Echo was gone. The voice was gone. The crimson flicker on his finger had vanished before anyone else could have noticed it.
But his emotions had not obeyed.
Rage still burned beneath his ribs. Not only at the impossible thing that had reached for him, but at the very human rot waiting in this life with a soft smile and poisoned hands.
Lee Eun-ae.
Her name alone made something cold and venomous curl through him. Disgust rose first, sharp enough to coat his tongue. Then came bitterness, old and ugly, aimed not only at her but at the original Beyol Bong Tae-Hwan—the boy who had been too lonely, too trusting, too desperate to believe that someone outside this family might care for him to see the knife hidden beneath her sweetness.
How blind had he been? How wounded? How carefully had she trained him to look away from every cut until he no longer recognized the blood as his own?
Nix inhaled once, slow and measured.
It did not cool the rage. Nothing could cool that. Not after what she had done in this life. Not after what she would do if he left her untouched. And certainly not after what she had done in the original timeline.
Lee Eun-ae had not only aimed herself at him. She had reached toward the Beyols. She had wrapped herself in borrowed innocence, hidden behind green-tea softness and black-lotus patience, and let this family believe she was harmless while she quietly poisoned every path Phoenix might have walked.
For that, Nix wanted to make her pay.
For the original. For this life. For the family she had smiled at while sharpening her teeth behind her fan.
Abeoji noticed the shift first.
His broad hand paused halfway toward Phoenix's shoulder, fingers curling once before he restrained himself. His brows drew together, and the careful relief that had softened his face tightened into concern. "Uri a-deul (우리 아들)," he asked quietly, "did something happen?"
Nuna's gaze flicked over Phoenix's face, then to his lap, where only Nix could see Solaris pressed anxiously against him. Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but she closed them again and gave one small nod, silently agreeing with Abeoji. She had felt the change too.
None of them could see Solaris. None of them could hear his tiny, worried chirrs through the restricted bond. To the Beyols, Solaris was nothing more than the strange little name Phoenix sometimes breathed into silence, a secret comfort they did not understand but had learned not to question too harshly.
Solaris, however, was very real to Nix. The little dragon-phoenix's claws curled carefully into the fabric over his knee, unseen and weightless to everyone else, yet grounding Nix with a warmth only he could feel.
Yong-Jae went still beside him, his face losing the faint softness the family's acceptance had left behind. His eyes searched Phoenix's expression with a wounded kind of patience, as if he knew his little bird was choosing which pain to show them and which one to bury.
Eomeoni—Tae Eun-Kyung—did not move at all. That was what frightened Nix most. Her stillness was not calm. It was the dangerous quiet of a mother listening for the first crack in the world before deciding where to strike.
Maknae's usual brightness had vanished. Beyol Joon sat frozen, his mouth pressed into a thin line, eyes wide and glossy with confusion, worry, and the first flicker of anger. He did not know who had hurt Phoenix yet, but his face already promised violence on principle.
Their love, concern, and worry rolled toward Nix like a tide.
It made his heart ache.
He could not tell them about the Echo. Not about the voice. Not about the man with eyes like fire, the vanished thread, or the ancient ache in his soul that had answered before his mind could understand.
But there was another truth.
One he could give them.
One they needed to know before Lee Eun-ae smiled her way any deeper into their lives.
Nix drew in a deep breath. Once. Twice. The breath did not make him peaceful, but it gave him enough control to keep his voice from turning into a blade too soon.
Then he lifted his head and looked straight into Eomeoni's eyes.
"Eomeoni," he said softly, and the apology in his voice made the whole room sharpen around him. "I am sorry. What I need to say next is not pleasant."
Tae Eun-Kyung's expression changed at once. Her eyes narrowed, not at him, but in the way they did when she realized something dangerous had been standing too close to one of her children without permission.
Abeoji's jaw tightened. Nuna's hand rose slowly to cover her mouth. Yong-Jae's fingers tightened at Phoenix's shoulder. Maknae leaned forward, all the color draining from his face.
After his earlier breakdown, he could tell his family members were already balanced on the edge of panic and restraint. This news would hurt them. He knew that. But leaving it unsaid would be worse, because Lee Eun-ae had already proven she knew how to smile at the dinner table while hiding a knife behind her back.
'It is okay, Mama,' Solaris whispered through their restricted bond, pressing warmth against Nix's fraying control. 'It will hurt less if you pull the bandage away quickly. You are doing this for their safety. For their wellbeing. They need to know.'
Nix's fingers loosened, then curled again. Solaris was right. That did not make it easier, but it made the path clear.
He did not want to hurt this new family, this warm impossible family full of unconditional love and support. But if he softened the truth too much, Lee Eun-ae would keep the advantage. If he exaggerated, she would use the smallest flaw to slither away from accountability.
So Nix made himself choose precision over fury.
He would tell them what had already happened in this life. The things he could prove. The things other people had heard. The patterns that had repeated too often to be misunderstood.
He would not speak of the original timeline. Not yet. Not when those crimes had not happened here. Not when giving Lee Eun-ae even one thread of plausible denial could let her wriggle free from the retribution coming for her.
But in his heart, Nix remembered all of it.
The selfishness. The cruelty. The crimes that had been swept under polished floors because her father kept the best law firm on permanent retainer for his entirely "legitimate" business dealings. The same father whose money made certain police officers suddenly forget how to read evidence, whose connections were definitely not Jopok (조폭)—organized crime in South Korea—wearing a luxury suit and calling itself respectable enterprise.
The sarcasm nearly burned his tongue.
He swallowed it down.
Later. He would make her pay for all of it later. For now, he needed his family to understand the monster already standing close enough to bite them.
Nix swallowed back the bitter taste gathering under his tongue.
"I know you care about Lee Eun-ae," he continued. "I know you have always held her in high regard. I know you have loved her almost like one of your own children."
Eomeoni went very pale.
That hurt more than Nix expected. It was one thing to hate Lee Eun-ae. It was another to watch the first crack form in his mother's image of her.
Still, he did not look away.
"That is why I need you to listen to everything first. Please. Do not stop me halfway. Do not defend her before I finish."
His fingers curled against his palm until the ache steadied him.
"Because the person you think she is… is not the person she has been to me. Not to my face, and not behind my back."
The silence that followed was no longer confused.
It was waiting.
Abeoji's face hardened first. Not with disbelief, but with the terrible self-control of a father forcing himself to listen before he acted. His jaw flexed once. His eyes stayed on Phoenix, steady and dark.
Eomeoni's hand tightened around her cup until her knuckles paled. Her lips parted, then closed again. Whatever instinct had risen in her—denial, defense, fear, or the old habit of thinking well of Lee Eun-ae—she strangled it before it could become sound.
Nuna's eyes filled with sharp, immediate tears. Not soft tears this time. Angry ones. Her hand remained over her mouth, but the look in her eyes said she was already replaying every time Lee Eun-ae had smiled sweetly beside Phoenix and wondering what had been hidden underneath.
Yong-Jae's hand slipped from Phoenix's shoulder to the back of his chair, gripping it hard enough that the wood creaked faintly. His expression went still in a way Nix recognized too well. Protective. Wounded. Dangerous.
Maknae looked the youngest for only a heartbeat. Then the confusion vanished from his face, replaced by a fury so raw that Nix saw exactly why the Beyols called him their bright one and still never mistook brightness for weakness.
Nix breathed in once more.
"Lee Eun-ae is very good at Gyo-eon-yeong-saek (교언영색)," he said quietly. "Smooth words. A sweet face. A gentle voice. The kind of expression that makes people think she is harmless, grateful, fragile."
Eomeoni flinched at the old idiom, and that tiny movement told Nix she understood the accusation beneath it.
"But when no one important is watching, she does Hobak-ssi kkada (호박씨 까다). She peels pumpkin seeds behind people's backs. She smiles in front of you, then whispers poison where you cannot hear it."
Nuna's hand fell from her mouth. "Phoenix…"
He gave her the smallest shake of his head. Not yet. If she comforted him now, he might stop. If he stopped, he might not get the words out again.
"She told people I was weak because I was an omega. Then she told others I was arrogant for trying to improve myself. If I stayed quiet, she said I was cold and ungrateful. If I smiled, she said I was pretending to be pitiful for attention. If someone praised me, she found a way to make them feel foolish for doing it."
Abeoji's hand closed slowly into a fist on the table.
"She told classmates I only got opportunities because the Beyol family pitied me. She told customers and neighbors little stories with just enough truth twisted inside them that people believed her before they thought to ask me. She made it sound as if I rejected friendship, as if I looked down on others, as if I was too delicate, too unstable, too strange to trust."
Maknae made a strangled sound. "She said that about you?"
Nix's mouth curved, but there was no humor in it. "Not all at once. That would have been too obvious. She was careful. A sigh here. A worried look there. A soft little 'I should not say this, but…' before she ruined another path before I could walk it."
Eomeoni's face crumpled for half a second before she forced it still. "That child ate at my table."
"Yes," Nix said gently. "She did."
The answer landed like a blade.
Abeoji's voice dropped low. "Bae-eun-mang-deok (배은망덕)."
Sheer ingratitude.
The words seemed to darken the air around the table.
Nuna's wet eyes sharpened until grief became accusation. "All those soft smiles were Yeou-jit (여우짓) then," she said, voice trembling. "Fox-like tricks. She made herself look pitiful so everyone would protect her while she hurt you."
Maknae's mouth twisted with disgust. "A Gasik-deongeori (가식덩어리)," he spat, the word rough with fury. "A whole lump of fakeness wearing a pretty face."
Yong-Jae's eyes went colder. "Not just pretty," he said softly. "Practiced. A Bul-yeou (불여우) knows exactly when to look helpless."
Eomeoni closed her eyes for a heartbeat, and when she opened them, the softness she had once saved for Lee Eun-ae was gone. "Do not use that proverb yet," she said, voice low enough to make every spine at the table straighten. "If what Phoenix says is true, then she will earn far worse than words."
Nix nodded once. "Yes. But I need you to understand—she did not only repay kindness with cruelty. She made sure the cruelty looked like concern."
He looked at Eomeoni again because this part would hurt her most.
"When you praised me, she smiled. When Nuna defended me, she looked ashamed for me. When Abeoji encouraged me, she acted worried that I might disappoint him. When Hyung called me little bird, she laughed like it was sweet, then told others I was childish and clingy. When Maknae followed me around, she made it sound as if I needed to be watched because I could not handle myself."
Maknae shot to his feet so fast his chair scraped backward. "That is a lie."
"I know," Nix said softly.
"No," Maknae snapped, eyes bright with fury. "I mean she lied. About all of it. About you. About us."
Yong-Jae reached across and caught Maknae's wrist, not to silence him, but to keep him from storming out before the whole truth was spoken.
Nix waited until Maknae sat back down, trembling with anger.
"She also interfered with people who might have become friends," he continued. "If someone wanted to study with me, she warned them I was difficult. If someone asked about my cooking, she implied the restaurant carried me. If someone showed interest in my work, she made them believe supporting me would bring trouble."
Nuna's eyes went bright and cold. "She isolated you."
Nix looked at her, and this time he did not soften the truth. "Yes."
A breath moved through the room, collective and wounded.
"And she made sure I blamed myself for it," he said. "That was the worst part. Not the rumors. Not the whispers. The way she made every closed door look like proof that I was the one who did not deserve to be let in."
Eomeoni covered her mouth with one hand, but a sound escaped anyway—small, broken, furious.
"I am not telling you this because I want pity," Nix said quickly. "I do not need pity. I need you to know the shape of the enemy before she smiles at you again."
His voice lowered.
"Because once I step onto The Chef and The Celebrity, she will not stay quiet. She will try to burn every connection I make before it can become useful. She will try to make my name sound unstable, arrogant, pitiful, dangerous—whatever works best for the person listening."
He met each of their eyes in turn.
"And when she cannot control me anymore, she will come for you."
No one spoke.
Even the air seemed to hold still.
Then Eomeoni set her cup down with exquisite care.
"Tell us everything," Tae Eun-Kyung said, her voice soft enough to be terrifying. "From the beginning."
Nix did.
Not all of it. Not the pieces that belonged to another timeline, and not the shadows he had no proof for yet. But enough. Enough for the Beyols to understand that Lee Eun-ae had not been careless, jealous, or childish. She had been deliberate.
By the time he finished, breakfast had gone cold.
No one tried to make him speak further.
Eomeoni looked as if someone had taken a cherished memory from her hands and crushed it slowly. Abeoji sat with both hands folded on the table, too still in the way only truly furious men became. Nuna's tears had dried into something sharper than grief. Yong-Jae's face had gone quiet and unreadable. Maknae looked as though the only thing keeping him in his chair was Yong-Jae's warning hand near his wrist.
But morning did not pause for heartbreak.
Work still waited. School still waited. The world outside still moved as if Lee Eun-ae had not just lost the protection of the Beyol family's ignorance.
Tae Eun-Kyung drew one careful breath and stood.
"We will talk more tonight," she said, voice soft with promise and danger. "For now, you two will go to school. We will not give that child the satisfaction of making our house stop breathing."
Nix understood what she meant.
This was not forgiveness. This was restraint.
And restraint, in the Beyol household, suddenly felt far more terrifying than shouting.