"Wow! This bastard Ryan is seriously good at grilling…!"
Leona shouted with her mouth full, practically inhaling the slices of perfectly seared beef Ryan had cooked.
Ryan, meanwhile, had gone fully unhinged in the best possible way.
He slapped on a pair of ridiculous sunglasses, grabbed a pinch of salt with giant oven mitts like some parody of a celebrity chef, and sprinkled it dramatically over the sizzling meat. Then, before even a drop of juice dared to escape, he flipped the beef with surgical precision.
He looked… genuinely happy.
Like this was his true calling — not a hero, but a man destined to run a late-night BBQ joint by a highway rest stop.
"Bring more meat!!! No — bring all the meat!!!"
"This is insane! Too good!"
The seniors were exaggerating so much they sounded like paid actors, but Ryan didn't seem to mind. He smiled as if this was the greatest day of his life.
"Are you really that happy?" I asked him.
"Yeah. It's nice seeing everyone enjoy what I cook."
