Chapter 5: Blisters and Broth
By noon, Chloe’s hands were completely numb, her lower back ached with a sharp, unrelenting burn, and her fingers were covered in small nicks from the heavy industrial peeler.
She had never worked a day of hard physical labor in her life. Since dropping out of college at nineteen, her entire existence had revolved around curated angles, photo editing apps, lighting rings, and chasing sponsorships. To Chloe, the world was a background set designed to make her look important.
Here, in the heat of the kitchen, she was completely invisible.
"Move it, kid! Hot pans coming through!"
A stout, middle-aged woman named Rosa brushed past Chloe, carrying a massive sheet pan filled with roasting chicken thighs. Rosa didn't know who Chloe was, nor did she care. To the kitchen staff, Chloe was just another court-ordered volunteer who had messed up somewhere in the city.
"Drink some water," a voice said.
Chloe turned to see Eleanor standing beside her, offering a plain paper cup filled with ice water. Chloe took it with shaking hands, gulping it down greedily.
"Why are you doing this?" Chloe rasped, her voice thick with exhaustion and lingering resentment. "You’re a billionaire. You could be sitting on a yacht in Monaco right now. Why are you chopping vegetables in a basement kitchen at six in the morning?"
Eleanor leaned against the stainless steel prep counter, watching the volunteers arrange trays of steaming food.
"When I was twenty-two," Eleanor said quietly, "my husband and I lost our first business. We lost our apartment, our credit, and our pride. For eight months, my family ate meals out of a kitchen just like this one."
Chloe blinked, surprised.
"People assume wealth is a shield against reality," Eleanor continued, turning her gaze toward Chloe. "It isn't. It’s just a temporary coat of paint. You spent your youth building a house out of mirrors, Chloe. The moment someone shines a real light on it, the whole thing shatters. If you want to know what a person is worth, don't look at their followers. Look at what they leave behind when the camera is off."
May you like
Before Chloe could answer, the front doors of the dining hall clicked open, and the first wave of people began to step in out of the cold.
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