Alex's POV
When I opened my eyes, I was back to my room, with unconscious Ben propped up against the mouldy wall.
I don't remember how many days had gone in this world but oh this place was filthy, to say the least. The smell of dust lingered around while heaps of it got collected on my furniture and upholstery. The walls were leaking water and mold had increased on them. It was dark and dingy, unsuitable for a sick person.
I quickly got to fixing the place before it collapsed.
I covered my face with my t-shirt, covered Ben with a towel I found, and got to work with it.
I dusted off the surface of tables, cupboard, washed some utensils and set the bed to the best I could. I also opened the curtains and windows so some light could creep in.
I then propped him on my shoulders and took him to the bed. Perhaps it was the sudden movement, but he began to mutter things like,
"It's not your fault..."
"True love is to let go..."
Don't know which melodrama he was starring in this time, but he sure was into it, as a small teardrop gathered around the corner of his eye. I put him down carefully and got back to what I was doing.
Remembering how he got me soup once, I decided to cook some for him. I opened the kitchen cupboard, took out some instant soup packets, poured the contents into a cup with a broken handle, and let the kettle to a rolling boil.
'If only I could not do this...'
I sighed, resting my hands on the counter top as I waited.
Once the kettle boiled, I picked it up and walked towards him, but stopped midway.
He was behaving strangely.
His arms were flailing around as if he's a drowning person trying their best to come up to the surface, as each breath counts their life away by the moment.
'Maybe the hits gave him a seizure?'
I was confused, but also very concerned, as seeing him die wasn't my wish. Besides, only his consciousness should be affected, not his physical state as his body didn't travel with him.
Still, I jumped at him and stared down, as his body wouldn't stop shaking.
I shook him once or twice yelling, "Ben wake up... It's Alex."
Yet no response but that strange behaviour.
Few minutes later, his movement stopped for a short while, before a shiver ran emerging from his toe tips to his head, he looked like he was choking, as he gripped his neck and began to cough.
I kept down the kettle and used both of my hands to give him the CPR, by thumping on his heart side rhythmically. His heart was pounding so hard, that I felt it was as if the flesh was grazing at the tip of my fingers at every pulse. There was sweat covering every inch of his body. He began to breath heavily, as if he was looking for an escape.
I was confused, but stood beside him.
He then suddenly ripped through the constrictions with a violent gasp, grabbing in all the air he could. His body jerked so hard, the bed legs were about to give in.
I hovered over his head with his eyes now open, yet deadpan, "dude, are you okay?"
He gasped again, and recoiled with his back straight, "Do not-"
"Do not what?" I asked, confused.
"You were going to hurl the kettle at me right?"
Is this what he thinks of me?
There was a fury rising within me, but I calmed down the waves, given that I was responsible for this mess.
I sighed in deep.
"I'm making soup for you," I said, picking up the kettle off the table and pouring water into the cup I filled earlier, "eat this," I said, handing the cup to him.
He drank the soup I made, settling the cup on the table and looked at me, "a little less salt and it would be nice," he said with a serious expression.
Seriously?
I made the soup for him and this is all he has to say?
Maybe leaving him to die was the best option.
"But it was the best soup I had in ages," he suddenly followed up, looking at me.
For some reason, my heart descended into my stomach.
I stood up to pick the cup and glanced at him, with my eyes searching for possible wounds, "Okay now don't change yourself, give me the pompous Ben back."
"Hmm," he simply nodded, with a barely noticeable smile on his face.
I headed back to the kitchen to prepare some lunch for him.
For lunch, I decided to make a porridge for him. I opened my fridge to forage some vegetable remains or if lucky, some meat scraps left over from the bunch I got before. To my surprise, I did find a bunch of frozen shrimp, that were thawed and frozen again, turning into a ball of ice.
I set the water running and let the ice melt, in the meanwhile I washed some rice and put it on the pot for it to start cooking.
Upon stealing a quick glance from across the kitchen, I noticed he was wide awake, looking at the sky and extending his arm outwards.
'Maybe the travel really messed him up.'
While everything was on track, I wiped my hands on the apron I was wearing and ran to him. He had turned his face away from me, towards the window, darting his eyes at the activity outside. It seemed like he was questioning whether what he was seeing was even real.
"Look Ben, you didn't see anything, forget everything," I said, placing a hand on his leg.
"I remember everything," He said, still facing away.
"Okay, you sure you'll be fine?"
"If I'm allowed to say," he said, slowly facing towards me, "the script was really amateur."
What the frick?
I simply smiled at him.
"The characters were so cheesy," He slowly got up and propped himself upright. I supported his shoulders.
"What do you mean cheesy?" I asked, still daunting that pink-collar smile.
"Just the dialogues, and scenarios, everything felt like I was browsing through a web based fan fiction," he sighed.
Why the hell is he sighing?
"The band name, Smoke Makers was so obnoxious, it made me throw up."
Yeah, that's it.
Once I stuff his face with the food and throw him out, I'll avoid him at all costs. We can never be friends.
And since we can never be on the same page, why should I hold back?
"Bold of you to think you're some big shot, advising a gangster!" I scoffed, pointing a finger at him.
"He was so bad at managing, I literally felt like punching the wall."
"Then you'd rather have punched the wall instead of getting punched, you idiot!"
"Idiot?" He glared at me. "Don't forget I distracted the hooligans so you could escape!" He shouted.
"Yes, telepathy master if I say, of course you knew I was going to pick the pole!"
"If only you hadn't made it obvious by burning a hole through it by staring!" He started to shout. "If only you were a little less obnoxious!
"Everyone loves me," I said, flipping my hair with my hands.
"Yeah, they love you soooo much they want to push you out!"
His eyes widened, staring blankly at me.
A silence panned among us.
"I- I didn't mean to say that," he put his feet down and stood up, placing a hand on my shoulder. I swatted him away.
Wait.
Push me out?
But who?
I looked into his eyes with questions and confusion, laced with a little jealousy that I'm being kept away from things he's a part of.
Right then, a phone notification broke the awkward stillness.
It was Margie.
"Ben and Alex, meet me in my office right now," she commanded.