"I'm not going home to the apartment—I'm dead if they see me this drunk," I whispered.
"Well, that's what happens when you drink way too much! I seriously thought you were trying to end it all!" he scolded.
"No worries—hic—we're almost there."
"You idiot! Lui, this isn't like you. Pull yourself together! Look, I've had a few drinks too, but I still know what's right and wrong, and what you're saying isn't right."
"You're the idiot!" I said, smacking him on the head.
"Did I—hic—say anything about actually—hic—ending my life? I didn't, did I? You're just being dramatic!"
"Oh wow! A drunk person with the audacity to hit me and give me a lecture!"
"Whatever, hic."
"Where do you want me to take you if you're not going home?"
"To he—hic—hell!" I said loudly.
"Oh my God. You really lose it when you're drunk. I swear, I am never letting you drink this much again!"
"Idiot!"
"I'll take you to Mitch's place, okay?"
"No," I said, pushing him away.
"Wow, you're really pushing me now," he scoffed, rolling his eyes like that would actually affect me.
"Fine, I got this—hic—I already know where I'm sleeping tonight," I giggled.
"Where?"
"Sheecrettt!" He scratched his temple, clearly getting frustrated.
"Okay, fine. Bye. Thanks. I'm leaving—hic."
"Hey! You are NOT getting in that cab! What the hell?" He yanked me back just before I could climb in.
"What? I was about to—hic—get in! Why are you—ugh, you're hurting me!" I whined, rubbing my wrist.
"You are not riding alone, Lui! Hey! Hurry up, guys! What's taking you so long?" he yelled at the others behind me.
"I'm going home," I muttered weakly.
"I'm so tired," I added, my voice barely above a whisper. My body felt like it was about to collapse.
"If you don't let me, get in a cab right now, I swear I'm just gonna lie down right here—hic," I pointed at the pavement.
"Hey! Don't do that. Come here, lean on me while we figure out where we're actually going."
"Why? Why are you doing this to me? Don't I—hic—deserve to be happy?"
"Lui, that's enough," he said softly. And just like that, everything I'd been holding in came pouring out. I slumped onto the curb, but Ali caught me and pulled me into a hug, holding me as I cried.
"It hurts... it hurts so much! Everyone just—hic—keeps pushing me aside. Am I really that unlovable?"
"Lui, shhh…" he whispered, his hand rubbing slow, comforting circles on my back.
"Lui, we need to get out of here now," he murmured again. His girlfriend is so damn lucky.
"Slowly now, so you don't hit your head. Hold on to me, okay?" I could only nod.
"Oh? Looks like you're a little more sober now. You can still nod," he teased before pinching my cheek—lightly, just enough for me to feel it.
"Ugh, you are the worst kind of drunk," another voice complained. I recognized it from earlier.
"Good thing you brought your car, man. And Jerome, thanks for staying sober so we actually have someone to drive Ali's car," said Jed.
"Yeah, if I hadn't told you to pick up my car from my place earlier, I don't even know how we'd be handling this right now," Ali added.
"Hold on, she might throw up later. I'll get a basin. You guys watch her," he said before heading off.
"Ali, here's the towel," another said, handing it over as they passed each other.
I woke up with a pounding headache, my body feeling unbearably heavy, and every inch of me aching. It felt like I was coming down with a fever. Slowly, I pried my eyes open—
And immediately slapped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming. My eyes widened in sheer shock.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing right next to me.
I panicked—I didn't know what to do. Should I leave this room? But the real question is, where even am I? I tried to recall everything that happened last night.
No matter how hard I tried, the last thing I could remember was sitting on the gutter near the parking lot, crying. Beyond that, nothing. Even after closing my eyes repeatedly, hoping to recall more, I came up with nothing.
I couldn't remember how I... how we got to this place. Where even is this? Wait—where are my clothes?!
I was lost in thought when suddenly, someone spoke.
"You're awake," he said in a hoarse voice, staring at me.
"How are you feeling?" I didn't respond. I just stared at him, dazed.
"Hey! Are you okay?" he asked again, inching closer.
"How are you feeling? I'm worried, Lui. Please, tell me." Slowly, I nodded. He raised his hand and gently pressed it against my forehead.
"Sh*t! You're burning up—you have a fever." He suddenly got up in a hurry, gathering clothes—our clothes?
"Here, wear this. It's Ali's shirt and shorts. I'll just get something," he said, handing them to me without making eye contact.
I accepted them, realizing how cold I was—the air conditioning was blasting. My body felt weak, and my head throbbed, making it difficult to move quickly.
The door opened, and he stepped out after getting dressed. Even though I wasn't looking directly at him, I could feel that he was hesitating before finally leaving the room.
I changed into the clothes and lay back down, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. I blamed myself for getting so drunk that I couldn't remember anything.
Closing my eyes, I turned to face the window, but I couldn't see outside—it was too high up, only allowing a view if I stood up.
I didn't even notice the door opening again because I was so deep in thought.
"Lui, eat first so you can take medicine," a familiar voice said behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"I... I'm not hungry," I weakly replied.
"But you need to eat, Lui. It's not good to take meds on an empty stomach."
"Where are we right now?"
"Ali's place," he answered shortly.
"Where is he? I want to talk to him." My voice was firm.
"Okay." That was all he said before leaving the room.
Not long after, the door opened again.
"Morning! How are you feeling? Still drunk?" Ali asked playfully as he sat on the edge of the bed. I turned to look at him—and to my surprise, tears welled up in my eyes.
"Why? What's wrong? Last night, you were all tough at the drinking session, and now you're a crybaby?" he teased. I struggled to sit up, leaning against the headboard, wincing at the pain. Ali immediately helped me.
"How did I get here?" I asked.
"Huh? You don't remember anything?" he asked, confused.
"The last thing I remember is crying and sitting on the gutter," I admitted, feeling embarrassed.
"Oh, man! A lot happened after that!" He ran a hand through his hair, looking exasperated. Thankfully, I didn't have to push him for answers—he told me everything I had forgotten.
"So, what now? Why do you look like that? Go ahead, drink more next time!" he taunted.
"Yeah, yeah, keep teasing me! My head hurts so bad—" I didn't even finish my sentence before he pressed his palm against my forehead.
"You're burning up, Lui. You should eat so you can take your medicine. See? This is what you get for drinking too much last night—you just wouldn't stop!" he scolded me again.
I knew that aside from getting drunk, there was another reason why I was feeling like this—why I had a fever. But should I tell Ali or not? Even if I didn't, he would still find out because of the bloodstain on the bedsheet.
"Later, I really don't have the appetite to eat right now. My body feels heavy and sore. Just water for now, please—I'll eat later," I pleaded.
"Wow, you really take hangovers to the next level—you even get a fever. Next time, don't drink like that again! You were such a handful last night. You kept struggling whenever I tried to help you, but the moment I let go, you just collapsed and rolled over from being too drunk," he continued his lecture.
"I just really wanted to get wasted last night. It felt too heavy… everything just piled up," I muttered, pouting.
"I knew it. It's not just about what happened between you and Georje, is it? You know you can talk to me anytime, right? I'm always here to listen. Lui, in all the years we've been friends, last night was the first time I saw you that down," he said sadly. I couldn't respond—I just stared at him, my eyes welling up with tears.
"Ali, I need to tell you something," I hiccupped as I spoke.
It was difficult to start, but by some miracle, I managed to get everything out. I told him everything—from the time I was with Georje on the way home, to what happened when I arrived, to my parents' situation, their affair, and what I discovered when I woke up. He listened silently, never interrupting me, just staring as if he were trying to read my face.
"I'm sorry. I really don't remember anything. I'll wash the bedding myself—it'd be too much to ask you to do it after everything," I mumbled, ashamed. He didn't say anything. Instead, he slowly moved closer and pulled me into a tight embrace. I didn't hear a single word from him—just the warmth of his arms, different from his usual hugs.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I whispered, hugging him back tightly.
"So it wasn't just because of the alcohol that you got sick. You idiot, you really had me worried," he sighed, pulling away slightly before playfully flicking my forehead.
"Ow! Seriously?! You know I have a fever, and you still did that? Thanks for the concern, I guess!" I grumbled.
"You're the idiot here! You got sick because of your recklessness! So, are you still refusing to eat? Don't expect me to bring food here—I'll drag you to the kitchen if I have to!" he snapped.
"So grumpy! You were being all sweet just a moment ago, and now you're acting like this. Are you bipolar or something?"
Instead of answering, he just crossed his arms. "So? Are you getting up or not?"
"Fine, I'm getting up. But help me, it really hurts," I pleaded.
"See? You're so good at acting weak when you need help. Ugh, you're unbelievable," he grumbled but still helped me up.
"Easy! You're so rough with me! Just give me a second!" I protested as I sat on the edge of the bed. The pain in my head worsened, forcing me to close my eyes.
"Are you dizzy?" he asked, sitting beside me.
"No, my head just hurts more whenever I try to stand up. Give me a moment," I said, still keeping my eyes shut, pressing my hand against my forehead.
"Fine. Stay here. I'll just have Georje bring you food, and you two need to talk. You have to talk about this." His voice was quiet, but I could hear the anger behind it. That was all he said before he stood up and left the room.
Slowly, I lay back down again, eyes closed—not because I was sleepy, but because my head felt like it was about to split open. A few minutes later, the door creaked open.
"Lui, you need to eat," I heard a voice say. I didn't open my eyes. I wanted to gauge his presence first.
"Lui, I know you're awake. Please, talk to me," he pleaded. I felt the bed shift—I knew he was sitting beside me now. Slowly, I opened my eyes.
"What happened to that?" I asked him curiously, pointing at his busted lip—the first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes.
"It's nothing. Just eat so you can take your meds," he dodged the topic, avoiding my gaze. He pushed the tray of food closer to me.
"Did you eat already?" He just nodded.
I took a sip of water before slowly starting to eat. He remained quiet, but I could feel his eyes on me the entire time. Once I finished eating, he immediately handed me the medicine that had been sitting on the bedside table.
"Lui, can we talk?" he asked softly.
"Sure. What do you want to talk about?" I pretended not to know, even though I already had a good idea of what he wanted to discuss.
"Are you mad at me?"
"Georje, honestly, I have a lot of reasons to be mad at you. I could curse you for what you did to me, but I didn't. Yes, I was angry, but it fades once I let it out. Just like last night—I cried it out, and now I'm okay again," I said. When I looked at him, he was staring down at the tray in his hands, avoiding my gaze.
"I'm just asking you not to take for granted the chances I give you. Don't abuse my patience, my understanding, or my love for you. I'm only human, Georje—I have my limits too," I added. He nodded slowly but kept his head down. I stayed silent, waiting for him to speak. I just stared at him.
"Lui, about last night—"
I cut him off. "I'll admit, I don't remember how it happened because I was too drunk. I don't want to bring it up again—I already know it was humiliating. And besides, we can't undo it. It already happened. That's it. There's nothing we can do about it now." My heart was pounding, but I stood my ground. I needed to say everything I wanted to say.
"I admit, it's my fault because I was sober, and you were drunk. I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm sorry. I shouldn't have listened to you because you were drunk."
"Wait, what exactly are you apologizing for? Because the way you said that 'sorry' just doesn't sit right with me!"
"It's not what you think, Lui. I mean, if we were going to do it, it should have been when we were both sober—not like last night. I just realized that there's a huge difference between doing it when we're both clear-headed versus when one of us is drunk. This sucks! You could even file a case against me for this, you know! Do you get what I mean now?" he clarified.
"Don't worry, that never even crossed my mind. You think too far ahead. Are you stupid? I was at fault too, so stop overthinking. If anyone should be overthinking here, it's me. But every time I do, I just blame myself for drinking too much."
"I was flabbergasted by how much you drank last night, Lui. Don't do that again, okay? Even I, am guy, have never gotten that drunk before," he muttered, shaking his head. I chuckled and shook my head as well.
"And now you find this funny?" he scowled.
"One more thing—your smoking is such a bad habit, Lui. It's not good for you, and you know that."
"Oh, don't start preaching to me! You were way worse when you denied that I was your girlfriend and didn't even greet me on my birthday! Not even a single message! Am I really that insignificant to you?!" He was speechless at my retort.
I fell asleep again after that conversation and woke up when something cold was placed on my forehead.
"You're awake. Are you hungry? Do you want to eat?" Ali asked softly.
"Are you mad at me?" I asked instead of answering his question.
"Why would I be mad at you? Of all times, you're asking me that now? Your fever is still high. Tell me, what reason would I have to be mad at you?" Ali huffed.
"Because your voice sounded different earlier when you left the room."
"I'm not mad at you, okay? Not at all. And I have no reason to be. Now, eat up—your food's already getting cold," he said firmly. He helped me sit up against the headboard.
"I can do it," I said when he was about to feed me.
"I have a fever, not a broken arm," I joked. He sighed before handing me the utensils.
"Make sure you finish it so you can take your medicine."
"Thanks."
After a few bites, I pushed the bowl away.
"I don't want any more. I can't taste anything," I complained.
"That's not an excuse. You need to finish it so you can take your medicine. It's just soup—just bear with it. Your fever is still high, and you need to take another dose of medicine." I had no choice but to finish the soup. Right after, he handed me the medicine.
"Did you two talk?" he suddenly asked.
"Yeah. Earlier."
"How did it go?"
"It was okay. Are you mad about it?"
"Do you really want the truth?" he raised an eyebrow at me.
"Of course. That's why I asked."
"I'm not mad at you—but I am mad at him. Why? Because if he weren't a complete idiot, this wouldn't have happened. He knew you were beyond drunk. He was the one in the right state of mind, but he let himself give in to his urges! We're both guys, but we don't think the same way, Lui!"
"Is that why he has a busted lip?"
"Did you even ask him about it?"
"I did, but all he said was 'nothing.'" Ali shook his head as he adjusted the cold compress on my forehead.
"Thank you. Thank you for everything you've done and continue to do for me."
"Lui, please! You're not dying, so don't start with the drama!"
"Hey, I'm not being dramatic! I'm being sincere with what I'm saying to you right now. What's wrong with that? I just feel like thanking you!" I pouted.
"There it is—your fever must have gone down since you're getting grumpy again."
"Wow, way to treat me! Hmp!" I huffed in protest.
"Alright, I'll just take these dishes out. I'll also check if the medicine I ordered has arrived. Get some more rest, okay?"
"Do I smell bad?"
"Huh? What kind of question is that?"
"Well, I haven't taken a bath today, I haven't changed clothes, and worst of all, I haven't even brushed my teeth."
"Wow! And now you suddenly feel embarrassed? We've been talking for a while now!"
"You're so shameless!"
"Relax, I was just joking! You're really easy to tease. And no, you don't smell bad. You're not even sweating since the air conditioning is on. You're just getting self-conscious because of your boyfriend!"
"Go ahead, keep teasing me." We both burst out laughing.
"I won't even ask how you're feeling anymore because I can tell you're getting better. You're annoyed, you're laughing, and you're not as weak as you were earlier."
"That's because I have such a great nurse! Who wouldn't recover fast when their nurse is handsome, caring, and sweet?"
"Hey, Lui! Don't butter me up! I know you're lying because you never even noticed me when I was always right beside you."
"Oh, really? Did you ever ask me? Did you ever say anything? No, right? And now it's suddenly my fault? That's so unfair." I rolled my eyes at him.