Aayug Bhatta
There once was a woman named Lucia Foster. She was in serious pain while taking some creature out of her body at Dark Woodland Hills Hospital. She was in severe pain and really in need of some painkillers at that time. When the operation started, it was 2:00 pm. But now, it was 2:25 pm, and the baby still wasn’t out for 1,500 seconds. Ooh, ooh, ooh! Oh wait, that was a close call. This was such a serious operation that if you blink, you’d miss it. And then, finally, the magic happened. A boy was born–a boy who didn’t know that he was going to be a star!
Lucia, who had been deciding with her husband, Anderson Foster, decided to name him Jaxon S. Foster (the S stands for Sean). Jaxon had just got his brandnew crate and his squishy toys. The first thing he ever drank or ate was just normal milk, but when he was 6 months old, he tried real food! From bacon, fried eggs, rice, and even chicken! He was already developing his Gordon Ramsay skills. When he was 9 months old, he learned to walk, and on his birthday, he had already learned proper English. His little and cute habit was always to admire his mom and dad (they were a family of three) cooking.
And 2 1/2 years later, when he was 3 years and 6 months old, he learned to cook a sunny-side-up egg. 8 Imperial World School Amazing! Fast forward 8 1/2 years later when he was twelve, he was almost a teenager. He was a really good chef, cooking breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner in his house. He, once, even thought that he can win the MasterChef if his parents would let him. Maybe they would, but he was mischievous. You could never leave him alone.
Jaxon’s life was mostly filled with lectures. In fact, about 83.5% of the time, he was being lectured by his parents! He was probably the most lectured kid in the whole city. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t stop being naughty. He had a bulletproof motto– Be mischievous only, and they’ll totally disapprove. Be a genius, and your parents will worship you, but then it might bore you. But be both a genius and mischievous? Voila! You become perpetually forgivable! And every prank becomes doable. Jaxon figured out early on that as long as he had A+ grades, his parents couldn’t scold him too much. They’d still give him a lecture, still shake their heads, but in the end, his perfect marks seemed to make up for all his naughty moments. Parents are gullible like that.
Therefore, every time they saw his report card, it was always like:
- Math: A+
- English: A+
- Social Studies: A+
- Geography: A+
- History: A+
- Coding: A+
- Other Languages (Spanish, Latin, etc.): A+
- Extra Activities: A+
His report cards were like a shield. They kept him safe from punishment, a way to escape when his parents weren’t happy with him. It was a risky game, but Jaxon had gotten really good at it. Every A+ was like a break from the storm, a way to delay the moment when his parents would notice his mischievous side. Their big smiles meant he had a little more time before they turned their attention to his antics. But as he worked harder to score A+ in exams, the pleasure he got from cooking slowly disappeared. To fill in the gaps left by forgetting his dream, his brain started craving for junk food. He began consuming 800 calories of junk food in a day
When Jaxon turned sixteen, everything started to feel heavy. His perfect grades and the perfect image in the family started to weigh him down. It was like he was choking under the mask he wore for his parents and everyone else. For so long, he had been trying to be the perfect son and the perfect student, living up to everyone’s expectations. But now, he couldn’t help but wonder: What was left for him? Was there a part of Jaxon that wasn’t just about grades, awards, or applause? Was there any part of him that was just him?
The answer was, "Maybe not!" He indeed needed awards and applauses because if Jaxon wanted to launch his chef career, he needed a shiny trophy to show off. After all, how could he make his grand entrance into the world of delicious dishes without a little sparkle? It was like trying to get into a secret club, but first, you had to have a golden ticket – or in this case, a shiny trophy – to prove you belonged!
Jaxon’s began dreaming of being on MasterChef He went to the masterchef's website and saw the announcement: Season 16 of MasterChef starts next week. Only 100 spots available!
Jaxon quickly called the number listed on the TV ad, unsure of how lucky he could be. When the voice on the other end answered, “MasterChef staff, how may I help you?” Jaxon knew his moment had arrived.
“Hey! I want a spot on MasterChef!”
The voice replied, “Congratulations! You got the 99th spot!”
After filling out the form, Jaxon was ready. On Sunday, he stood where he’d dreamed of since he was a child (but he had momentarily forgotten the dream): on the MasterChef stage. For four months, he went from strength to strength–winning challenges, leading his team, and impressing the judges with his ability to blend meats, carbs, and crunchy vegetables into magical creations.
Then came the final challenge. Jaxon was nervous, with only half the usual time to complete his dish. But he didn’t let the pressure get to him. He created something nobody had ever seen before: zesty, savory, and sweet chicken wrapped in a thin layer of crispy dough, served with a homemade sweet-and sour sauce as light as gravy. The other contestants had simple dishes–boring French fries, bland pizza pockets, or soggy fish fingers.
The judges' reactions told the story: Jaxon won! The moment felt surreal. His parents, his childhood friends, and even the MasterChef crew were in shock. The room exploded with cheers and congratulations.
One evening, after dinner, Jaxon sat across from his parents, his mind swirling. The conversation felt different today–he wasn’t hiding behind his good grades, wasn’t hiding behind the mask of the perfect student. For the first time, he felt the pull of his own desires, of his own dreams, calling to him.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jaxon said quietly, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want to follow the path you’ve set for me. I don’t want to be the perfect student anymore. I want to cook. Do you know why I won MasterChef?”
His parents were silent as if they knew what was coming.
“Well, one reason is because cooking is my passion, and the second reason is that I want to put this trophy somewhere special–like in my very own restaurant called Foster’s Dine.”
Lucia and Anderson froze. For a moment, the world stood still. It wasn’t the response he was expecting, but it wasn’t the resistance he feared either. His mother blinked, a hint of concern in her eyes, while his father, who had always expected him to follow the traditional route, leaned back in his chair, silent for a long while.
“I always thought you’d be a doctor, or a lawyer, Jaxon,” Anderson finally said, his voice calm but uncertain. “But if this is what you really want…”
The conversation took a turn Jaxon didn’t see coming. He had braced himself for an explosion of anger, for disappointment, maybe even a lecture on why he needed to become a doctor or lawyer. But instead, his father's acceptance hit him like a ton of bricks – only instead of crushing him, it lifted the weight off his chest. It was as if a cloud had been removed from his mind. His path didn’t have to be dictated by anyone else! For the first time, Jaxon understood: real freedom wasn’t in grades or awards. It was in choosing his own way.
But just as this profound revelation washed over him, his heart skipped a beat. No, seriously, it skipped a beat, because, well, he had a heart attack.
It wasn’t because of the emotional weight of the moment – no, that part was fine. What really did it was the massive double cheeseburger with extra bacon, the super-sized fries, and the mountain of soda he’d devoured earlier. You see, Jaxon’s body, in its own quirky way, was reacting to the onslaught of junk food he’d inhaled throughout his life. The greasy food made his blood thicker than a milkshake, and with all the sugar and fat sloshing around, his heart just couldn't keep up with the chaos.
The irony? His parents, who were usually quick to scold him about his eating habits, were now not so shocked by his sudden “heart attack”. His mother, who muttered something about "Should have eaten a salad" 14 Imperial World School while his dad stared, equally stunned, as Jaxon’s heart tried to process both his monumental life choice and the serious junk food overload.
When Jaxon woke up, everything was different. “Where am I?” he thought. The answer came quickly: he was back at Dark Woodland Hills Hospital. Way back in the morgue. After living 12,614,800 minutes and consuming 7,129,154 calories, Mr.Jaxon S. Foster died. He never got to live his dream.
