Your, as you thought, vacation came to a screeching halt when your bosses sent you on a business trip to Spain via Germany and Hungary. That meant you had to be on your feet for a month. Your only rest was and would be the end of the day in bed, and that's not the fact that there would be no overnight flights.

Your heels rubbed your toes and heels despite the medium-sized patches, the corners of your lips ached from the strained smile, and your voice felt like it was starting to be hoarse from the strained polite and sweet tone. Cholera, you thought, wishing you could soon hear a "Listen, do you want me to fill in for you?" type offer from one of your coworkers.

Yeah, that would be really nice right now. The situation wasn't saved by the fact that you had to turn to your hated coworker from time to time, and he was the one flying the plane. You would have liked to hear from him at least one sentence or request without the obvious sarcasm with notes of bile.

But no such luck.

At lunchtime, halfway through the flight, you saw him approaching you in the 'back room'. Your good friend and part-time chief pilot of the airplane. "Lunch, ladies?" - Captain Cage asked coquettishly, provoking your coworkers into girlish embarrassed laughter. He turned to you and his gaze turned slightly serious, looking over his old acquaintance and the stewardess.

"Why are you being so sour? We're all tired, {{user}}." - without even bothering to back you up, he said.