Don't Criticize me!

⇠Extended Stay⇢

When Oscor woke up this morning, he knew it was going to be a bad day. His head was pounding against his skull, and his limbs felt heavier. Today was his last day in France, and Oscar had a mixture of emotions bubbling in his chest. Half of him was saddened by the fact he wouldn't see Nigel anymore; as much as he hated admitting it, he liked bantering with the other male. It was refreshing to have someone bite back and challenge him, but the other half of him was excited to return home. The bed in the hotel room wasn't anything like his back at home; sure, the pillows were fluffier, and the male made a mental note to try and stuff one of them into his suitcase. But nothing felt as good as home. Blinking a few times, the male pulled the blankets off and slid to the edge of the bed. He used the heel of his hand to rub the sleep from his eyes as he hoisted himself from the bed and then padded into the bathroom for a shower.

Once clean, the male slowly walked back into his hotel room, running a towel through his hair and ignoring his phone buzzing on the nightstand. Slipping into the kitchen, Oscar scrunched his nose at the food wrappers from Nigel's bakery, his eyes flicking down at his stomach as his scowl deepened. The male couldn't get the baker out of his brain, and that both pissed him off as well as scared him. Everyone who knew the critic knew he was married to the job, rarely taking days off for personal days. His boss often nags him to take breaks and explore a little, but if the male had to be honest, he loved his job; the adventure was in the food for him. Grabbing the leftover eggs and ham in the fridge, Oscar quickly made himself breakfast. The small hotel was soon filled with the aroma of food. Oscar bounced his head to a beat in his head as he gently moved the eggs around in a pan.

The buzzing from his bedroom seemed to intensify. Rolling his eyes, the male turned down the heat and quickly went back into his room, scooping the phone from the nightstand and noticing one of his editors was calling. Letting out a small sigh, Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose before sliding the button across the screen before returning to his breakfast. "This better be good; it's my last day, and I wanted some peace and quiet." He growled.

"About that, I hope you haven't packed yet." His editor replied nervously.

The male ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you talking about?" He demanded once again.

Following a brief period of silence, "They liked your first article on the bakery; they want you to stay an extra week to get an exclusive interview as well as maybe some more food inputs." They explained.

Anger bubbled in Oscar's stomach as he let out a small growl. The pressure behind his eyes seemed to intensify as his hands shook slightly. "They what!?" He snarled. "I have other places to be! I can't stay here for some bakery!" He continued.

"They are aware of that; the chief has already scheduled all of your appointments and has everything figured out. He wants you to concentrate on this bakery right now. It's rapidly gaining popularity and becoming the greatest in Paris. She said.

Oscar's head began to ache as the rage in his stomach subsided. Unfortunately, fate had other ideas for him, and he was honestly too tired to fight it anymore. All he wanted to do was go home and forget about Nigel. "And how the hell does the chief want me to have an exclusive interview, pray tell? The baker has an extremely busy week." With a grunt, he turned off the oven and realized he was no longer hungry.

The woman on the other end chuckled softly. "He already has set up everything for you tomorrow; you'll be taking Nigel out to a nice dinner and getting your story." She instructed.

The male narrowed his eyes at the pan, rolling his eyes. "I never told you his name," he muttered.

The editor barked out a laugh, "Don't have to; I work for a journalist. I have my ways to find out information." She grinned.

The other sighed, setting the phone down on the counter, and then put the woman on speaker. "Don't stick your nose in my business." He growled.

She gasped playfully. "I'm hurt, Oscar. I'm simply looking out for my boss; if something happened to you, then I'd be out of work." The woman replied.

Oscar quickly packed the eggs and ham into an old Tupperware box before placing it in the fridge. "That would be touching if you weren't my best friend, and I already know you plan to try and get us together." He sighed.

"Again, I'm hurt that you would assume that about me, plus it wouldn't hurt for you to get a hookup during a work stay." They stated.

The male bit his lower lip until he detected a hint of blood. Since it had been too long since the man had gone out with someone, Oscar toyed with the notion of asking the other man out on a date, but something always got in the way. He tried to put half the blame on his employment; he was a frequent traveler, and lengthy distances were never effective. However, half of them were aware that Oscar was too afraid to commit, particularly because this would be his actual first romantic relationship. "It wouldn't work, and you know that I am married to my job." He quarreled.

The woman scoffed, and the male could feel her rolling her eyes. "You can't be married if you are only thirty." She said.

A smirk formed on Oscar's face. "So then, what happened to you?" He taunted.

"Shut up; I'm hanging up now." The editor growled, promptly hanging up.

Oscar shook his head and sighed, looking down at his phone. "God damn it." Leaning on the counter, he mumbled. The man's mind was too disorganized for him to think clearly, so he chewed on the tip of his thumb until Oscar's phone buzzed on the counter, snapping him out of his train of thought.

I'm excited for our date, Grumpy. - N