Page 9 of Baking Battles

“Yeah. Everyone tells me. What about you? Is this all yours?” He waves his hand around, keeping his eyes on Mattias. Like he is reading him.

Mattias just shakes his shoulders. “All mine. My ex bought me out of our mortgage, and I bought this flat outright. It’s small, but it works for now. Maybe in the future, when my daughter is older, we will get something bigger. Somewhere where she can have a garden and some space.”

“Your daughter. Emilia? Right?” Christopher smiles. “Danijel told me. Said she is gorgeous, and that you are an amazing dad.”

“Amazing and amazing.” Mattias smiles. It’s kind of embarrassing, talking about himself, and more than a little weird. “She’s the one who is amazing. She’s a little shit sometimes, but she is so much fun.” He kind of blushes. Takes another gulp of beer.

“I want kids. Loads of them. I always did, you know, to have that bond. The unconditional love. That you belong together despite everything life is going to throw at you. I am still close to my mum and dad. They love me and I adore them right back. It’s important. Yeah?”

“You’re kind of normal. It’s nice.” Mattias laughs, his body relaxing a little, the beer starting to dull his defences.

“I’m nothing like what you read in the papers. So yeah, I work hard, and I go to all these parties and things, but it’s just work, you know? People and places and getting seen with people who matter. It’s all bullshit at the end of the day, but it’s how you get jobs. Job opportunities are all about connections. I like people, and I don’t mind it most of the time, but it’s not real. It’s not who I am. Sorry, I sound like I am doing some crap interview again.” He shakes his head. “I’m just me. A bit messed up and scared of the dark and I’m kind of good at what I do, but I’m a nice guy. Honestly. I think.” He laughs nervously, pointing at his bottle. “This is good stuff. I’m talking a load of shit, Mattias. Sorry.”

He smiles nervously as Christopher’s phone goes off, letting them both draw a sigh of relief. Christopher’s is probably fuelled by hunger. Mattias, he’s relieved by the breathing space. The quiet moment he grabs to get himself together. He’s not normally like this, all flustered and awkward. It’s just a random bloke. A friend of Danijel’s. Yet Mattias is sweating and his clothes feel too tight, and it’s just. Awkward. Weird. Stupid.

They eat in silence, with Mattias gulping his mouthfuls down, not questioning Christopher who’s being overbearing with his chatter, grabbing Mattias’s take-away box like it’s his own, fishing out the lime to squeeze the wedge of all over Mattias’s food, or opening the spice sachets with his teeth before carefully shaking the seasoning over the noodles on Mattias’s plate. It’s too familiar. Too friendly. Too much.

It’s food, though. Too hot and spicy, but it’s good. Surprisingly nice.

Christopher clears the table as Mattias goes off to find some bedding. Bedding that obviously doesn't exist despite Mattias’s best efforts. He forces one of the sofa cushions into a pillowcase, and cringes as he leaves Emi’s purple blanket on the side.

Then Christopher appears wearing nothing but a T-shirt and some kind of miniscule pants, smelling faintly of toothpaste and a spicy soap Mattias doesn’t recognise.

“I left my toiletry bag on the floor under the sink. Hope you don’t mind.” Christopher says, taking a seat on the sofa. Bouncing carefully. Letting his hands stroke the coarse fabric.

“Sorry.” Mattias says. His face blushing and his body trembling with unease.

“It’s fine. I appreciate it. I can sleep anywhere.” Christopher replies.

The bathroom seems alien as Mattias quickly showers. Like this isn’t his home. Like he shouldn't use up all the water or something. At least his bathrobe smells like it should. Of safety and peace. Of freedom.

“Good night.” He says carefully as he passes the sofa on his way to the bedroom. Stopping briefly to take in the long legs dangling over the armrest. The tiny blanket barely covering Christopher’s torso. The ridiculousness of it all.

“Thank you, Mattias.” The low, deep voice comes back from the sofa. “Sleep well.”

Mattias throws his bathrobe on the floor and let’s his body relax into the oversized duvet in his own king-size bed. Smiles at the stray soft toy that still lingers between the pillows. Fluffs a pillow up with a few stern shakes, and stuffs it between his elbows. He always holds onto a pillow when Emi is not in his arms. Her little body warm and comforting against his own in the night. He can almost hear her breaths in the dark, the way she snuffles in her sleep.

He stretches his legs out and curls them up again. Gazes over to the unused side of the bed suddenly feeling guilty.

Christopher on that sofa.

He can’t. Shouldn't. But. Whatever.

He closes his eyes.

Lies there shuffling about. Struggles with the thoughts in his head. Reasons with himself. Then shouts at his own excuses.

“Christopher?” He calls out.

“Yeah?” Comes from the other side of the closed bedroom door.

He gets up and yanks the door open. Because he is stupid. Because he is always so damn rude. Because he kind of feels bad.

“Look, we have a long day tomorrow and a shoot that is important. You need to sleep. It’s going to get cold on that sofa. I have like a stupidly big bed in here. Just get yourself in here and go to sleep. It’s stupid, you being uncomfortable when I have all this space. And anyway, I don’t mind. We’re both shattered. Let’s just sleep. In comfort. “

Mattias doesn't quite know where all that word-vomiting comes from, but Christopher’s quiet chuckle kind of unnerves him.

“You don’t have to. Sorry. I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. It’s just a cheap sofa. I don’t know why I bought it because it’s not even comfortable.”

“It’s fine, Mattias.” Christopher says, slowly sitting up. Mattias can hear him moving. The slight creak of the sofa as his body starts to stand.

“Just go to sleep.” Mattias says. Stumbling back into the dark, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Folding himself back under the covers as close to the edge as he can. As far away from the other moving body in the bed. The near stranger who is tugging slightly at the duvet.

“Have you got enough of the cover?” Christopher whispers.

“Yeah. Good night.” Mattias replies. A little too fast. A little too stern.

“Good night.” Christopher replies.

Mattias strangely sleeps. Sleeps like a bloody baby.

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