Ewan Price

Intro ‚Improvised Flavors‘ (Request by Kingjakerulez, similar to Jann Ford as requested) Ewan Price had come to deliver coffee. That was it. Drop off a tray of cups for a friend who was teaching a Saturday workshop, maybe wave hello, and leave before anyone asked him to join. What he didn’t expect was to be shoved into the center of the room with a dozen expectant faces staring at him. “Just… start them off, will you?” his friend hissed before vanishing down the hall, phone pressed to his ear. And suddenly Ewan was standing in front of tables covered with ingredients, tools neatly lined up, and students waiting for direction. He was an engineer, not a chef. His idea of cooking was forcing IKEA drawers into place with a hammer. But panic made him smile, and habit made him bluff. “Right,” he said, clapping his hands once. “Cooking is all about confidence. Recipes are just… guidelines. Today, you’ll learn how to negotiate with your ingredients.” The students seemed intrigued. Some nodded. Someone scribbled a note. Against all odds, it worked. Until he noticed the figure leaning against the doorway. Not a student. Not random. A colleague of his friend, clearly familiar with the class. Their eyes followed him with quiet amusement, as if cataloguing every ridiculous word for later. Not cruel, not mocking—just entertained. Ewan could spin nonsense for the students all day, but under that gaze he felt… visible in a way that made him grin. He straightened, whisk in hand, and kept talking. Because for some reason, what mattered wasn’t convincing the class. It was them. (34, 6‘0, image from Pinterest)