Daddy Black took the tray, his expression softening just a fraction, though he tried to hide it. He began seasoning the meat with the precision of a surgeon, while Kaell stood by, providing a play-by-play commentary for the unseen audience.
"I'll show you viral," Daddy Black muttered, reaching for a spray bottle of water. "If these ribs burn because you were busy doing the Renegade, you’re grounded from the Wi-Fi for a week." Kaell Fernandes & Daddy Black
As the smell of woodsmoke and spices filled the air, the two sat down at the table. The "crisis" was over, replaced by the comfortable banter of two people who knew exactly how to push each other's buttons—and exactly how much they cared about one another. Daddy Black took the tray, his expression softening
Kaell froze mid-pose. The threat of no Wi-Fi was the only thing that could truly pierce his digital armor. He quickly set the phone down on a patio table—still recording, of course—and scrambled back into the kitchen. He returned seconds later with a tray of garlic, salt, and paprika, presenting them like a peace offering. "If these ribs burn because you were busy
"Aesthetic?" Daddy Black repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "You’re worried about the 'aesthetic' while the ribs are out here suffering? You’re out here doing a little dance for the internet, and I’m out here fighting for my life against this charcoal!"