*Bzzzzzz... Bzzzzzz...
*Bzzzzzz... Bzzzzzz...
A phone was ringing incessantly on a desk cluttered with documents and stationery, everything underlined with detailed notes.
The room's curtains allowed a few rays of sun to enter, just enough to illuminate the face of John, who was sleeping on a pile of papers.
His computer was still on, and scattered around him were several empty energy drink cans and a half-full cup of coffee.
At the sound of the phone, John groaned as he stretched out his arm. He didn't lift his head, taking his time to grab the phone and answer with a raspy voice.
Anyone who had passed by and taken a look would have thought he was a rag doll, a limp sack of energy. He looked undernourished, and the dark circles under his eyes were impossible to miss.
"Mmm..."
He didn't want to wake up. He grabbed the phone with difficulty, rejected the call, and returned to his initial position.
However, the phone began to ring again, so John had no choice but to answer, despite his strong reluctance.
He noticed the name Lucian on the screen and answered with an annoyed expression, "What..." His voice was hoarse. It sounded like he was about to get a cold.
"You sound awful. Are you okay?"
Lucian asked. Hearing his voice, he had no trouble noticing that John wasn't doing well.
John rubbed his half-open eyes. "Mmm... I think I'm coming down with a cold." He stopped himself from responding, "Anyway, what's up?"
"Um, nothing important, just that... I just moved into Nathan's place today..." Lucian added subtly as if it where nothing important.
"Okay..."
"..."
"Wait, WHAT?!" John was shocked.
"Um, yeah. You remember that friend I told you about? Nathan?"
Grabbing his head after abruptly sitting up, John tried to breathe and respond civilly.
"Yes, I remember him." He sighed. "I mean, what do you mean you moved into his place?!" He almost couldn't believe the boy.
"What did I miss? Are you guys married already?"
Lucian gave him an incredulous look, which John couldn't see on the other end of the phone. "It just... happened that way."
And his friend kept breathing patiently because, at that precise moment, he wanted to grab Lucian by the neck. He sighed, "I want to start studying how your fate works. It's getting more and more abnormal!"
Lucian rolled his eyes nervously. "...Well, whatever. Do you know anything about Linda? She hasn't called me in a few days..."
"Whoa, hold on, handsome. You don't get to skip the plot. Don't change the subject!"
"Okay, okay..." he replied, playing with his fingers.
"Why did you move in with him?" John finally asked.
"Let's say it's to help with his memory recovery...?"
"Why do you say that like it's a question? You don't know?" John pressed Lucian.
"No! It's to help him recover his memory. Plus, it's close to my job... it's convenient!" At that moment, his voice was shaky and a little unsure.
"Right, right, what a great excuse. I didn't expect that from you, Lucian!"
"Oh, please, come on!" Lucian was a bit annoyed, partly because he was aware that John wasn't completely wrong. "...He's the one who suggested it, and I couldn't say no. Somehow, I feel responsible," he sighed sadly for a second, "you know..."
"For his accident? Tell me, Lucian, are you perhaps a psychopath or a manipulator, so did you have something to do with it?"
"I know, I know, it's just..." he paused before continuing, with a more serious tone, "...You wouldn't understand."
At this response, John felt a sudden irritation, and his patience was at its limit. "Oh, God, of course, I wouldn't understand!..." A brief, heavy silence followed.
"You never want to admit when something is your fault and when it isn't. Isn't that why you also play the victim all the time?" His words might seem harsh to anyone who heard them, and Lucian was not amused at all.
"John, don't go on." He said it with complete seriousness and anger. He clenched his hands tightly, trying to swallow the words. "Seriously."
"Why? Isn't it true? That's why you always end up with idiots and people who just end up getting hurt." The shot was fired and landed right where he wanted it to.
"JONATHAN!"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"
"I!–"
"Don't interrupt me!" Lucian snapped.
"You've never had to live in a family that constantly oppresses you. Where there isn't a single shred of love, and all you find is pure self-interest!" Trying to calm down a little because of how ridiculous the situation was, he tried to explain.
"Imagine having to wake up and find yourself all alone. Not being able to remember anything but being forced to live with people who don't care about your well-being. You wouldn't feel good at all, being completely alone!"
"..." John now came to his senses and calmed down.
"Okay, I'm sorry, I went too far..." he sighed, "It's just that I'm so tired, and on top of that, I have to work overtime today."
Lucian, satisfied, decided to let it go. "It's fine... you've always had a terrible personality." John gave Lucian an incredulous look.
"Well, speaking of your job, how is it you haven't left yet?"
"???" John was confused by the comment, "What do you mean... wait..."
"Well... don't you usually start around this time?" Lucian limited himself to respond.
"Lucian... what time is it?"
"The time?? Um... 8:15?"
"DAMN IT!!" John got up again as fast as he could, as if something had just snapped inside his head.
'He's so loud...' Lucian thought about the mess his friend seemed to be making on his own apartment.
"I'm late! They're going to kill me!"
"Calm down..." Lucian suggested, a little worried about him.
"No, you don't understand. They ARE going to kill me." He just kept frantically putting on the first thing he found in his closet.
"Okay, okay, I'll let you go... Just don't worry, we'll talk about it late–"
Before he could finish speaking, John had already hung up on him.
'He really needs to change jobs.'