Anna had a strange gift, or curse, depending on how you look at it. She could rewind the clock of time to a certain point, but she had no control over where and when. It was a random checkpoint that fate assigned to her. This ability had helped her rise from a poor Czech girl to a supermodel whose face became worth more than gold, but this strange power had also betrayed her many times. It had imprisoned her in moments she wouldn't like to be in, the exact situation she was facing right now. This time, however, is the worst cycle. 

Frank is busy preparing the dinner for their romantic evening, but befoer he begins, he makes a detour to the vinyl player that sits on a cabinet next to the kitchen counter. He bends down to pick a record from his collection, and Anna wonders, 'What will he choose this time?'

"Are you ready for some music from the past? You love it, don't you?" Frank says, but his eyes are still fixed on the vinyl, tweaking to his liking. Anna's bad habit of showing her emotions through her lips kicks in, dramatically curling up in one corner to show her disdain. But she replies, "No, Frank, I don't. Actually, it bores me to death."

He glances at her briefly and says, "Feeling... off? You don't seem normal. And too bad for you, my music will always play under my roof." He places the record on the turntable and it starts spinning. He lifts the arm and gently sets the needle on it. In a few seconds, a heavenly orchestra comes out of the horn, playing melodies that Anna knows too well. "This one is one of my favorites, it will make you a fan. It's by Shostakovich. You'll be the one coming here playing the music yourself. And my collection will impre-" His voice is drowned out by the music that fills Anna's ears. Her bad habit kicks again, in her mind thinking, 'Speak louder, asshole.'

It's an open kitchen, and Anna is sitting on a chair facing Frank at the dinner table, and she can see him over the counter. He takes out all kinds of ingredients; spices, flour, and veggies. But she braces herself for one thing, the cursed carrorts. They are too big and tough for his manly hands to snap, so he has to use the gift of man and use a tool. The knives. This loop, she must find out where he's grabbing them from. And then, she sees the unnatural carrots coming out of his fridge. Anna stetches her hands downwards trying to undo her heels, as she planned to run to the counter but luck has it that she's wearing a heel with straps, giving her more trouble than she can handle while attempting to not draw attention of her killer.

'I will just run to him.' she thinks, her eyes sparkling with resolve. But Frank is watching her from his side and speaks out louder, "Anna, are you even paying attention to me?" The carrots are resting on the cutting board, and her cue is his next move so she doesn't want to ruin the sequence and replies, "Oh sorry Frank, you're right. The music is geting to my head."

He chuckles and with a smug grin says, "Told you." Frank turns around and takes a few steps to a cabinet behind him. As if in a movie, she starts sprinting on action . Her clumsy running with heels hurts her ankles but she's beyond the point of such pain, but with each heel hitting the marble tiles, it makes a loud noise. But it's not like she's running a marathon, it took a second to be there, and the momentum springs onto the side of the counter, hitting her stomach. Then, she sees it, what she couldn't see from her seat. A small drawer, pushed in now as Frank is startled, his eyes winden showing hints of ill intensions. Anna turns her gaze away from the drawer and looks Frank in the eyes, ignoring the large weapon he his holding in his hand.

"What are you... doing, Anna? Why did you run?" Frank's tone shifted, now cold and condecending. Anna can see him tighten his grip on the handle of the knife, and she sensed his urge to pounce on her any second. But she saves herself with a forced smile and says, "I wanted to listen to the music more closely. Really, it's beautiful, I could cry." She slides to the stool next to her and adds, "And I might as well watch you cook from here. Front row priviliges."

Frank still looks wary but he relaxes a little. This loop was almost cut off too soon, with a sharp blade. A way to die Anna did not want to relive again. Not after what he did to her a few chapters ago. She knew she would be a victim soon, but sooner was not what she wished for.

"Go back to the table. It's... a surprise. Instead of a live show, think of it as TV and watch me from the there. Don't do that again. I might.. stop cooking for you." Frank says and Anna simply nods and blows him a kiss, returning to her previous seat. As she goes back, her smile turns wicked and she begins imagining the next time, when she's back in that hallway, 'He has it in his hands now but next time, it will be in mine instead.'

Frank made music with the knife, creating a melody that matched the orchestra as he moved his blade up and down, chopping the carrots. Someone might mistake him for a chef, but on a closer look, he was far from it. The way he dressed, even his own fashion line, looked like it was thrown on by a toddler. Chaotic, was the best word to describe his style. But today, he was dressed nicely for a change. For what occasion Anna wondered, the gala party they were at a few hours ago? Or was it for her murder scene later? Either way, this model had falled into a trap. His captivating eyes had cast a spell on her. She thought she was immune but even now, sitting at the table, she looks at him and thoughts of his beauty flashes in her mind, but they didn't cloud her plan after learning his face could twist into something evil.

The dinner table is spacious enough for a small family, and is skillfully carved at its four corners. This wood, Anna wonder, how long did it live before it was chopped down by humans. Could she endure that long, trapped in this loop, dying over and over, always differently.

"This is hell." Anna whispers to herself, but even her thoughts are not safe as the man with the knife hears her and asks if she had said anything, "No, nothing at all. I'm just... admiring the craftmanship. You have fascinating things in here."

Frank smiles faintly and returns the knife to its place. As he walks back, Anna scans the kitchen with her eyes. The cabinets on top and bottom follow a pattern. Green, yellow, and red, repeating for all nine on each level. But what's strange is how there's nothing, not on the counter or inside the cabinets. If it weren't for the furniture that screamed Frank's awful taste, you would think it's up for sale.

Anna desperately wants to find something with a sharp edge to stab him when he's not looking, but there's nothing. She thinks about using the chair she's sitting on, but her weak body wouldn't even budge it, let alone use it as a weapon. Frank is walking over to the table, holding a tray with one hand from the bottom. This is the one thing that stays the same, and she loathes it.

"Madam, your meal is ready. It's expertly prepared by our renowned chef, Mr. Oliver." Frank says as he bends to place the bowls of food on the table, arranging everything neatly, "It's a popular African delicacy. It's called-" Anna interrupts for the second time tonight and finishes his line, "Fufu. Yes, I know all about it, Frank."

"You shouldn't cut off an actor when he's performing. Very rude, I'm offended." Frank's voice is cheerful which reassures Anna but the show isn't over yet, "Please, if you want, I can call the chef. He will be delighted to meet you." Frank adds with hint of aniticipation sparkling in his eyes. But Anna doesn't oblige and she stays quiet which makes him speak again, this time with a stern voice, "Anna, you should say your lines. I don't expect a model to be camera shy. Call for the chef."

Anna's fury was slowly fading away compared to when she started this loop, but going through this again made her nerves snap. But she had to play along, or that tray would be the way she dies. She puts on a mask and smiles, "Please do call chef Oliver. I'd be overjoyed to meet him. Maybe even have him dine with me." Frank smiles back and begins tracing his steps back to the kitchen and puts the tray into a cabinet, and then puts on his coat again. He takes leisurely steps towards Anna, acting as if he is on a catwalk. Then he reaches his chair only to take off the coat again. Anna rolls her eyes, and says "You're a fool."

Frank stops fooling around and rolls up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms. He starts tearing off pieces of the white fufu and dipping them in the chicken soup he had made. Anna is staring at the soup, wondering if she could use the bowl to knock him out.