Beep beep! The sound of the hospital machine rang in the quiet room where the unconscious Andrew lay on the bed, blissfully aware that he had just cursed a couple the previous night.
"Hmm, where am I?" a barely conscious Andrew mumbled as he looked around, his mind still foggy.
"Wait, the hospital? Why am I… oh yeah, I got hit because of my jealousy about being single," Andrew sighed, shaking his head.
"But I didn't die! I knew fate didn't hate me… jokes on you, Chase!" he declared, as if he had just won a prize.
"But damn, my hand hurts. Luckily, I'm not seriously injured. I guess I'll be stuck in the hospital for a few days. Oh damn, fate! I missed the hot man reality TV show! I'll have to search it up on YouTube," he lamented with a dramatic sigh.
"Oh, you're awake, Mr. Andrew," the nurse said as she entered the room.
"Yes, I am," he replied, a bit annoyed.
*Why is she asking me a stupid question when it's clear I'm awake?* Andrew thought, feeling unnecessarily stressed.
"Your injuries aren't too serious, but you need to be careful. Don't let water touch it, okay?" she instructed while adjusting his IV drip.
"Okay," Andrew said, his expression tired.
As he watched the nurse step out of his room, he closed his eyes, wanting to rest. Suddenly, Andrew saw it: the golden threads of fate shimmering in front of him.
Excited, he jumped off the bed—*bam!*—his head hit the floor.
"What am I seeing? What is this?! The golden threads of fate?! In front of me?!"
"Oh God, I'm not dreaming, right? Wait, wait, let me calm down first," he said, closing his eyes again, flustered.
Slowly, he opened his eyes—one at a time. There it was, still there: the thread of fate.
He stood up immediately, yanking the IV from his hand, not caring about the blood dripping on the floor.
"He is here! My hot, sexy man! The man of my dreams!" Andrew screamed, excitement lighting up his face.
He opened the door slowly, carefully—one step at a time—as he walked toward the direction the thread was leading him.
He ignored the people around him and the nurses calling out to him, wondering where he was going. Strangely, the hospital felt crowded, as if everyone on Earth was sick and admitted there.
"Dammit, is this the only hospital here?" Andrew cursed under his breath.
As he approached the staircase, he didn't bother walking—he jumped, moving faster and faster toward his lifelong hot, sexy dream man.
He stopped in front of a door that felt oddly monitored.
"Hmm, what's this weird feeling?" he said aloud, curiosity piqued.
Carefully, he opened the door, excitement bubbling on his face. Inside lay a stunning person, clearly unconscious.
Even so, the person was extraordinarily beautiful. Their blackish-brown hair was neatly arranged, and their long eyelashes seemed almost artificial, lazily resting like they were on a parade. Their fair skin was so pale it could give Snow White a run for her money—like they were on an expensive skincare routine.
"This is what I'm talking about, baby! Damn, so beautiful, so hot. I know my destined one will be breathtaking!" he exclaimed, taking in the sight as if his life depended on it.
"Damn, f***k, he is hot… huh? Why is the chest area kinda swollen?! Or am I seeing things?" he said, confusion etched on his face.
"That looks like breasts. They're big, like a woman's!" he said, shocked, still standing there, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him.
"Haha, fate, you're joking with me, right? You must be joking!" he said, alternating between shock and wondering where his dream man was.
He took a closer look at the golden thread of fate—it was slightly reddish-golden.
"Huh, why is it a little red? Based on what I've heard, researched, and what's been spoken about, it's supposed to be pure gold. What is going on?"
While still deep in thought, someone stepped into the room—a nurse there to check on the patient.
Surprised, she asked, "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Andrew snapped back to reality. "Oh, uh, the name sounded like my middle school classmate, so I came to check," he stammered, too flustered to think clearly.
The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Sounded?"
"I mean, it looked like my middle school classmate. I was surprised and came to check," he clarified, a little embarrassed.
"Oh, I see," she replied, her tone softening.
"What happened?" Andrew asked, trying to gather some information. "She stopped coming to school, and I couldn't reach her. I was really worried."
"This is private information, but since you said you were friends in middle school, I should tell you," she said, adding under her breath, "It's not like anyone else is coming to check on her anyway."
"Huh?" Andrew said, confused.
"Well, she's being monitored by the police, and she's the suspect in the murder of her entire family. She almost killed her father and herself when the police arrived," the nurse said, a sad expression crossing her face.
"All the evidence points to her killing her family. The weapon has her fingerprints on it. Everything indicates she's guilty. But it hasn't been fully determined because she's been unconscious and in a coma since the incident. She'll probably spend life in prison when she wakes up and is found guilty," the nurse added.
"Huh… huh… wait, wait… what?!" Andrew screamed as he passed out.