✖ Sᴜɢᴀʀ Hɪɢʜ | Hᴏᴊᴇᴏɴɢ ✕ Gᴀʙʙʏ
Gabby was so good with food, she could point out if a certain dish stood out from a sea of choices. But as talented as tastes go, she couldn't cook to save her life. It was ironic because she knew the taste, but couldn't quite get the measurements right. Like she always tells her mother, the dining hall was her paradise, but it's a different world in the kitchen. Incidents like that lead to being swayed to attend cooking classes. A good wife knows how to cook, and soon she will stand to prove that statement. There was no excuse not to learn anymore. That one event started to make the domino block fall, one right after another, leading to interference to her daily living. That was enough to ruin her mood the entire car ride to the dubbed 'cooking school', she checked the pamphlet and today was all about confection.
She dragged herself into the assigned room, it stretched out to the size of about three rooms. There were stainless steel tablets, six arranged in the middle of the room, spaces wide enough for three people to walk simultaneously. Both sides of the room were lined with what look like bakery ovens and at the far end, a glass wall separated the few students from the pantry. It looked like the girls there were already acquainted. Easy to assume because they barely notice her stride into the room and over to the only empty table. There were two white aprons folded neatly, she grabbed one and watched everyone put theirs on, following their lead.
She had a feeling there was another person coming. But when the instructor started handing out tubs of candy melts and began demonstrations, she assumed maybe they put it there for emergency purposes. She propped one tub open and began nibbling on a piece while the others gathered around the instructor's table, watching her make chocolate toppings or what-not. Gabby leaned on the table, arms resting comfortably, hips swaying lazily as she thoughtlessly look through the other ingredients on the table.