Juno squinted around the room, now slowly being filled by a soft morning light. It took her a second to process that this was Celia’s room.
A pile of journals by the bed, a light streaming in from the window, the fragrance of some overpriced candle. No doubt about it, she was still in Celia’s body.
She briefly considered just falling back into the marshmallow-like bliss and pretending this strange world didn’t exist for another few hours. But after a few minutes, she pushed herself up, the covers tangling around her legs.
Juno groggily pushed herself out of bed, her feet making contact with the cold hardwood floor. The chill sent a shiver up her spine, but it wasn’t just the temperature that made her feel uneasy.
She’d barely slept a wink, staying up all night reading through Celia’s journals. She had to understand: understand Celia’s world, her thoughts, her life. She had to become her, even if it was just for a little while.
The journals, as numerous as they were, gave Juno a glimpse into Celia’s soul: how cocoa was more than just a drink to Celia, how she and Aaron had somehow become step-siblings, how she viewed life and school. How everything felt so meticulously curated in Celia’s mind.
But no matter how much Juno read, she still didn’t feel like she quite belonged. She glanced around Celia’s room, taking in the soft vanilla scent that lingered in the air.
The truth of it all was as real, as palpable, as the perpetual chill in the air. Celia lived in an entirely different world than her.
She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. If she was going to make it through this bizarre experiment of impersonating Celia, she was going to need cocoa.
Celia’s entire identity seemed to be built around it. Celia had written about it over and over, as if cocoa was a boy she had a crush with. While Juno always viewed it as a simple drink, to Celia it was her lifeline. A ritual.
And this Project 365, as odd as it was, could be the answer to everything.
After all, Juno thought as she stepped out of Celia’s room: why would anyone make a year-long project that was centered around a drink?
Juno opened the pantry, eyes squinting against the soft morning light that slanted through the kitchen window.
There, sitting like a hidden treasure, was “Celestial Cocoa”. She'd seen it at the supermarket before, tucked away on the highest shelf, priced like it was made from chocolate kissed by angels. Juno had only ever dreamed of buying it, but now, it was here. In her hands.
She stared at the tin. Cocoa #2. Celia’s second signature recipe. According to Celia’s Project 365 journal, this cup was going to be, in her words, an “art form”. The ingredients listed were meticulously detailed, with little notes in the margins about how each one contributed to the perfect cup.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Ingredients for Cocoa #2:
- 2 tablespoons of Celestial Cocoa
- 1 tablespoon of dark chocolate chips (70% cocoa, nothing less)
- 1 teaspoon of brown sugar (just enough to counterbalance the bitter)
- 1 dash of sea salt
- 1 drop of vanilla extract
- 1/4 cup of heavy cream (for a luxurious texture)
- 1 cup of whole milk
Juno took a deep breath and began to gather the ingredients. Her hands were a bit too shaky from the lack of sleep, but she couldn’t let that stop her.
She set the tin of Celestial Cocoa on the counter and opened it, releasing a smell so rich it made her stomach growl. She realized she had no idea what half of this stuff even was.
She took the milk out of the fridge, her fingers clumsy as she fumbled with the carton. She poured it into a pot, spilling a little on the counter.
Great start, Juno. But she just rolled with it, not wanting to lose momentum.
The milk went on the stove, and as it warmed, she dropped two tablespoons of the cocoa into the pot.
There was a soft sizzle as the powder hit the heat. Then came the chocolate chips, dark and glossy. She dropped them in with a satisfying plop.
Next, she added the brown sugar. She dumped a little too much, so she quickly tried to scoop some out with a spoon but ended up spilling even more. Whatever, it was a learning experience. She’d make it work.
The sea salt was tricky. Celia had written just a dash, but Juno wasn’t exactly sure what “a dash” looked like.
She shook the salt shaker until a tiny sprinkle appeared on top. Perfect. Probably.
Now, the vanilla. That was easy enough. She just needed one drop, but Juno had a hunch Celia was a little more precise than this.
She tilted the bottle slightly too far, and the drop turned into more like a splash. Juno frowned, but hey, vanilla made everything better, right?
The cream came next, and she carefully measured it out, making sure not to add too much. As it all blended together, Juno stirred cautiously.
The mixture bubbled slightly, but nothing too crazy. She smiled at the tiny, perfect swirls of chocolate merging into the milk. She was actually doing it.
Her hands were a bit shaky as she poured the rich, dark cocoa into a mug, watching it swirl down the sides. She took a deep breath, admiring the way the steam rose, curling like a wisp of chocolate heaven.
She hesitated, but only for a second, before taking a sip.
Wow.
The richness of it hit her immediately, a wave of warmth rolling over her. The chocolate was dark and deep, and the sugar added just the right amount of sweetness to balance it out.
It was so rich that Juno almost felt guilty drinking it. But no: this was her moment. This was the best cocoa she’d ever tasted, and she’d made it. She didn’t have the right to feel guilty. It was Celia’s world now, but Juno could absolutely live in it for a while.
She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth, imagining that Celia would have approved. Probably. If she had the patience to not scream when she saw Juno’s mess in the kitchen