Chapter Text
There was nothing you were more grateful for than to be able to be on the show. To be given a chance was something you weren't used to, and so having your idol literally confirm permission to compete on Hells Kitchen was lucky! That doesn't go without saying that the other contestants weren't the nicest people. Since you were the youngest, and even a woman, you were chastised constantly by these middle-aged chefs. The only harsh criticism you were expecting was Gordon's. It wouldn't be a big deal but there's only so much you could take.
It was time to go. Men verses women in serving the customers. The women were a little nicer than the men, there was a couple who would say rude things but anything more and others would call them out. The men were asshole though.
Anyways the rush begins, when Gordon opens up the restaurant, he shouts for an appetizer of pan seared scallops. Instantly you're on it, the girls team works together well and gets the dish to Gordon before the boys.
There's a long pause of tension as he evaluates the dish, you made.
"Who made this dish?!" He bellows.
Your stomach drops in doom. But you knew if you didn't answer it'd get worse.
"I did- sir." You almost stammer. He looks past another chef in front of you and almost looks surprised.
"This dish... is great for making it in such little time."
Your stomach rises back in place along with a warmed heart of flattery.
"Thank you chef!"
"COME ON BOYS! HASNT EVEN BEEN 15 MINUTES AND THE GIRLS MAKE YOU ALL LOOK LIKE PUSSIES!!!" His shouts interrupted you but it sent you almost fleeing to make the Wagyu meatballs. Gordon's approval made you feel better than anything in the world. It was hard to focus on cooking. Your heart races at the sight of his satisfied eyes and smile.
As your cutting vegetables rapidly, a waiter is storming towards holding the plate of Wagyu meatballs you had cooked.
"Nice fucking job Y/n. Everyone at that table hates this shit!" Chad tosses the plate of food on the table and gets closer to your face. You wanted to stick up for yourself but you felt too weak. It was almost to horrible to be true. The meatballs? How are they bad? You know you cooked them long enough... to much spices? Maybe cooked too long... but they were the perfect color... Chad notices your bewildered face, a green light to keep going. He doesn't yell but merely hisses in your ear.
"The customers aren't the only ones who think you should go back home Y/n, there is not point in staying when at the end of the day you end up a worse failure than before. Go back to fucking (wherever you live)"
Suddenly- you see Chad being pulled away by a firm arm. Gordon has heard him you assumed, and everything he said despite his attempt to be somewhat silent.
"The only dick that's going back to their home is you asshole. Out of my kitchen." He had Chad by the collar. Chad just frowns at the ground in shame while he pulls off his apron. Once he walked away Gordon turns to you with concern.
"That was awful. Are you alright?" He places his hand on your shoulder, you almost twinge with the intensity of his touch. His soft side was wonderful to witness, and him sticking up for you was-
"These meatballs, are good. I know anything you make does not deserve whatever those customers are shitting about." You're so overwhelmed by his kindness all you do is clench your hands together and thank him continuously, holding back tears.
"Don't cry sweetheart, I'll go confront them about this, keep pleasing me alright?" He gives you a flirtatious wink along with a sly grin. It sends your heart flying.
"..Yes- sir. Er- chef!" You stutter again as he walks away. As you get back to work your faced with the whole team looking back at you. Some with shock, relief, and ... jealously.
Oof.