Chase was prickly, to put it lightly. Other than his first interaction by the church, Adrien had had little success in holding a conversation with the surly man, not for lack of trying.

Which led Adrien to ponder the reasons for his being outside Chase's door today. Normally, the young rancher had little interest in pursuing a friendship with someone who clearly wanted nothing of the sort. And it wasn't like Chase was so terribly interesting in his mysterious aura; Adrien had never understood those teenage girls who swooned after boys who wanted nothing to do with them.

No, the answer was most likely related to food. Or lack of food. Adrien was a terrible cook, as he'd discovered after burning what were supposed to be sautéed turnips in his brand-new, thankfully-not-ruined frying pan. How was he supposed to know that you had to put olive oil down first or whatever? Cooking was a confusing science, and Chase seemed to be a pretty knowledgeable scientist in that regard.

The one thing Adrien knew how to do where food was concerned was to buy it, and while this method was what had been keeping his belly full for the past season, it was slowly making his wallet less so. In order to remedy this unprofitable situation, Adrien had, well, spent a little more money, done a little research, and now was, as previously mentioned, waiting outside Chase's door, with a smile on his face and a birthday gift of marmalade in his hand. Hopefully the young chef would be willing to give him a few cooking lessons or tips with this show of good will.

He knocked.

No answer.

Adrien checked his beat-up watch. Nine o'clock in the morning. It seemed to be taboo for anyone on this island to wake up past eight, so he knew Chase had to be inside.

He knocked again, and after a few moments, the door opened a crack to reveal one glaring violet eye.

"Oh. It's you," an unseen mouth said. "What is it?"

Adrien fought to keep the grin on his face. "Oh, I was just dropping by—"

"Don't be overly friendly just because we exchanged pleasantries," Chase snapped, his eye deepening its glare.

"If you'd let me finish, I was going to say I was just dropping by to give you a birthday present," and here Adrien held up the modest jar.

The eye widened. The door opened all the way soon after, revealing a decidedly not grumpy Chase.

"I suppose a little friendliness doesn't hurt," he grumbled. "Come on in."

Adrien left Chase's house several hours later, his belly full of grilled-cheese-and-marmalade sandwich and his mind full of information on how to make said dish. It was fairly simple—spread jam, butter bread and pan, turn bread over on frying pan—and while he wasn't sure he'd have all the ingredients all the time, it was a good place to start. Chase had promised more cooking lessons in the future—Maya was proving hopeless, to no one's surprise, and Adrien had proven—slightly more surprisingly—a fast learner.

It was the beginning of a long and food-filled friendship.