The frantic buzz from his phone wouldn't stop. Sam's call, the forum notifications, the sheer weight of it felt suffocating, even exhilarating. Leo scrambled out of his apartment, his heart thumping a nervous rhythm against his ribs. He had to see it. He had to.
He practically ran the few blocks to Umi's Noodle Bar. As he turned the corner onto the quiet side street, his breath hitched. The scene before him was unrecognizable. A long, winding line snaked out from Umi's unassuming doorway, stretching halfway down the block. People chatted excitedly, their faces illuminated by phone screens, many of them scrolling, no doubt, through his very own review.
Leo: (Muttering to himself) "Oh my god."
He watched, hidden behind a lamppost across the street. Customers poured out, bowls emptied, eyes wide with satisfaction, then immediately joined the back of the queue again, eager for more. He saw a young woman take a picture of her ramen, then one of the shop's faded sign. He felt a strange mixture of immense pride and gut-wrenching panic. He had done this. He had done this.
Just then, a figure jogged up beside him, panting slightly.
Sam: "Leo! There you are! I just saw the line and figured you'd be hiding somewhere around here!" Sam grinned, a wild, almost disbelieving look on his face. "This is insane! I told you, man! You're a god!"
Leo shook his head, still staring at the queue. Leo: "I... I didn't think it would be like this. Not like this."
Sam: "Like what? It's exactly like this! People love good food, and you, my friend, are the prophet of good food! Look at Umi-san!" Sam pointed towards the shop's front door.
Through the bustling crowd, Leo caught a glimpse of Umi-san. The elderly owner's face was typically impassive, focused only on the task at hand – taking orders, serving bowls. But today, there was a subtle difference. His movements were a little faster, his brow a little more furrowed with effort, but in a fleeting moment, as a customer praised a bowl, Leo swore he saw the faintest, almost imperceptible twitch of a smile on Umi-san's lips. A private, satisfied expression, quickly hidden by the demands of the ever-growing line.
Leo: "He looks... busy."
Sam: "Busy? He looks like he just won the lottery! This is incredible, Leo. You saved his business, man. For real." Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "So, what's the plan, PalatePilot? Are you going to go in there and take a bow?"
Leo's eyes widened, shaking his head vehemently. Leo: "No! Definitely not! Are you crazy? What if... what if someone figures it out?"
Sam: "Relax, dude. Just enjoy the show you put on. Nobody knows it's you. You're the anonymous hero of the ramen world!" Sam laughed, then suddenly squinted at his phone. "Oh, man. 'CityEats' just shared your review. You know, the big local foodie account? Yeah, this is getting bigger than 'FlavorFinders'."
A cold dread trickled down Leo's spine, mixing with the heady satisfaction. He had wanted Umi's to thrive. He had wanted his words to matter. But the scale of this reaction, the sudden, public spotlight on his secret hobby, was terrifying. The quiet joy of being "PalatePilot" was quickly turning into a thrilling, yet daunting, responsibility. He had unleashed something powerful, and he wasn't sure if he could ever put it back in its box.