Who: Jerome and [open] Where: Kitchen (seriously where else) When: from 7:30 P.M. until unknown
And yet again, it felt oddly familiar to be back in the kitchen of this mansion he was imprisoned in for half a week already, and while Jerome hadn’t been to many places outside the kitchen and his own room at all, this place, almost, felt like a sanctuary surrounded by hell. No other place offered so many opportunities of distraction, at least none of which Jerome was willing to tackle, given that he didn’t feel like picking up on hobbies or doing something out of sheer fun was appropriate, for he had abandoned his children without a word, without a trace, without any guarantee of return. While ridiculously untrue, for Jerome, it was on him. He should have been more careful, he should have noticed that someone apparently had broken into their apartment at one point to gain information like the prescription level of his contact lenses, he shouldn’t have been such an easy target. Obviously, it was also his own fault that he had been a target in the first place.
He sighed tiredly while taking another sip from the wine bottle that he had put onto the kitchen counter, right next to the baking utensils he used to make already the second cake. Usually, he would drink alone in his room until he would fall asleep, like he had done every evening until now, only that yesterday, he had done it in the living room due to the craziness this music had filled the whole mansion with, but due to this very unpleasant children song incident, he hadn’t been able to sleep all too well the night before, having suffered from a massive headache because the music had woken him while he was in the middle of sobering up.
He had been overly exhausted after a second night of horrible sleep, because the damn music didn’t stop for only a second, and thus, he had slept the whole afternoon. Jerome was certainly used to lack of sleep, but he wasn’t used to taking naps at all, because in his own life outside this shithole, there never was time for napping. He just lived through the day with the help of lots of coffee, but here, there was no reason to force himself to stay awake, to stay focused. Sleeping away his headache had been a great opportunity to escape reality, too.
Now he was back in reality, without headache, still tired but not able to sleep anymore, and after having spent all day in bed, Jerome didn’t feel like drinking alone for himself in his room. Drinking, yes, definitely, but he needed something to do, something to keep his hands occupied, some routine after the two last days had fully thrown anything that just barely resembled a routine out of the window. There was an inherent need to feel at least a little bit useful, and he needed a break from his room desperately. He needed a break from the fact that his room had been furnished to suit his tastes, something he had only learned yesterday when realizing how much Lucy’s room fitted her personality. They obviously even fucking knew his favourite colour.
He frowned again, taking the next sip almost subconsciously, while his other hand continued to stir the dough that once would be a chocolate cake. His first one had been a so-called donauwelle, a full baking sheet with a chocolate-covered marble cake with cherries and whipped cream. His son’s favourite. The chocolate cake was his daughter’s favourite, and thus, the two things he made the most. It was a little difficult with the American ingredients, more difficult than the cooking had been, but he just trusted his instincts and it went surprisingly well.
Baking always had been a hobby. Cooking was a necessity, but baking was something that provided fun, and given that it was also something useful, he was definitely able to allow himself to give in to this pleasure. It felt slightly wrong, and still, while suppressing his feelings again, he was able to get into it, enhancing his mood with a little sting inside his heart.
Maybe Lucy would love cake. He was still worried about her, but after their conversation had shown that she wasn’t willing to fully trust him yet, he had decided to give her some space for now, hoping that she would reach out to this guy named Marco that she had mentioned. There were also these three women who had been absent since his arrival or even longer than that, and according to network information, they had walked all the way from Cassi’s to the mansion, which was quite a distance and also about everything he already knew about the town. There was this new, probably German girl who had acted extremely off-putting on the network, but maybe that was some kind of defense mechanism to deal with being here, or she was just scared. There were all the other people he had already met, all of which had been proven to be good people. Well, except Joe. There were all the people he hadn’t met yet. He could be sure that these cakes would be eaten, and that was enough to justify indulging in something he really, really loved to do.
Jerome tasted the dough, and a little smile of satisfaction visited his lips as the taste was exactly what he had aimed for, regardless of the difficulty with the ingredients. For the first time since his arrival, he didn't feel like being alone in the evening, even though he was drinking, and it was strange for him to yearn for some company. Yet, he did.