Steven's house
(Three weeks before RotR launch)
Steam billowed out of the blackened pot that sat atop the stove, its surface stained with years of use and abuse. Amy, Steven's mother, hovered over it like a mad scientist, stirring the contents with an evil smile on her face. Her eyes glinted wickedly as she added a sprinkling of Ranch dressing and a pinch of Sriracha sauce to the bubbling elixir. Her concoction was an ungodly union of tastes--something that if there were a kind and caring God, would have never seen the light of day.
She hummed softly as she carefully added each ingredient, sprinkling cinnamon and freshly-grated nutmeg over the mixture with a delicate touch. She stirred the pot in slow circles with her wooden spoon, taking care that none of the licorice bits ever fully dissolved into the liquid. She turned the heat to low and let the lemon slices do their work, smiling in satisfaction at what the blog had said about keeping it off the boil. When done, a sent that could almost confuse as an inviting aroma wafted from the brew.
“Dinners ready!” She called out for Steven with no response, so she walked down the hallway to his bedroom and saw him in front of his computer monitor, eyes glued to the screen with his headset on. Amy sent a text: “Pause your game, dinners ready!”
Amy knew that would get him going. She remembered the first time he stammered, trying to explain why he couldn't paused his 'online' game, and it only got better every time he tried again as she pretended not to know what he was talking about.
Steven hesitantly made his way into the room, sniffing and looking a little scared. Amy couldn't help but smirk with satisfaction. Her boy tried so hard not to show what he really thought of her cooking, but his body language spoke volumes.
He shifted in his seat and averted his eyes, unable to look at her or the food directly. If anything, his silence only emboldened her to reach further, tinkering with unique ingredients and bold flavors until she finally broke his resolve.
"I wanted to do something simple tonight," she announced proudly, presenting her masterpiece. "So I decided to make a stew! But then I saw this video on how they make kimchi in Korea and got some ideas..."
The last part was an outrageous lie, but Steven always took his mother at her word, so she'd made another game of seeing how far his gullibility would stretch. She smiled with satisfaction as he gaped at the plate, too wide-eyed to speak. Then his gaze slowly rose up to meet hers with a look of fear that asked 'what have you done' and 'why are you like this?' in equal measure.
Amy grinned, feeling victorious. "Well?" Her voice was dripping with delight, "Dig in!"
Steven peered defiantly at the unrecognizable dish cluttering his plate. He had been served a culinary abomination, and for once he would not submit to its tyranny. His fork in hand, Steven steeled himself to do battle with the man-made monstrosity before him - little did he know that Amy had already won the war.
Resigning himself to his fate, Steven made his decision. He dug his spoon into the slop without only slight hesitation. Amy took her seat at her own plate, and completely unnoticed by Steven, shared the same sense of resignation. They sat across from each other, their faces contorted with misery as they slowly took their first bites.
“Well, what do you think?” Amy asked, pushing the issue in a vain attempt at saving the both of them from this nightmare.
Steven tried his best to not recoil in disgust at the somehow overcooked yet also undercooked meal laid out before him. He stared at the food, at his mothers loving gaze. He tilted right on that knife edge of what to say, stuck between wanting to spare her feelings and speaking the truth. Unfortunately, he chose the former. “Tastes delicious, Mom," he lied, face frozen into a grin.
Amy groaned inwardly, despairing that her son still chose to spare her feelings instead of stand up for himself. Steven had always been too polite for his own good; forever going through the motions to maintain the peace and avoid confrontation. How far would Steven go just to be polit and avoid confrontation? Before long he might just end up married, with a kid and a mortgage, all to avoid telling some poor girl who had developed feelings for him that it wasn't going to work out.
It may not have been the best way of teaching her son the value of honesty and no, but she vowed to eventually make something to monstrous, so inhumane, that her son's shell would crack and he would finally say how he felt.