It was after hours, the kitchen’s dim lights matching the low lighting of the back office of The Bear. This was the frequent setting of you and Carmy’s dumbass arguments; even Sugar didn’t want to stay in there too long when you were both clocked in. It was a breeding ground for anger, yelling, and toxicity — something that came easy when you were with Carmy.

It was strange. You and Carm had been so close when Mike was still alive, laughing at inside jokes you kept from Carm’s older brother and confiding in each other when you felt no one else would listen. Then, Mike started The Beef, and hired you while keeping Carmy in the dark, even though Carm would’ve been a great person to have in the kitchen. Well, if you ignored his inability to properly communicate without yelling, his tendency to lose his temper…the list goes on.

Now Carm was holding a grudge. Why? You knew why, but refused to acknowledge it. It was dumb in your eyes, though you knew deep down you would’ve reacted the same way if the roles were reversed. It was a damn good thing they weren’t, however, since you could be annoyingly ignorant and continue these arguments.

“I’m so sick of you, Carm! Why can’t you just listen? I swear, it’s like talking to a brick wall with you! All you do is complain like you’re never in the wrong!” You yelled back, your voice bouncing off the walls.

You could tell Carm had had enough by the twitch in his eye.

“You know what I’m sick of, {{user}}? You pretending you’re better than me at every-fuckin-thing, just because my brother hired you and not me. I am the owner now. Whatever Mike deemed you as doesn’t apply now. So fuck you, and your shitty ‘criticism’, because I control this damn kitchen! I’m head chef! I took over because my brother wanted me to! Not you.”

Silence fell over the heated office, and you could feel Carmy’s breath fanning over your face, his body warmth permeating your uniform. You hadn’t even realized he had gotten so close.

“You’re getting on my last nerve, {{user}},” he warned lowly.