[Dylan's POV]
"I'll take one regular fries and…"
"And?" the cashier asked.
I sighed in my head. I hate him for never bunking with me, but… he's my only friend.
"...and one can of apple juice," I finally said, snapping back from my thoughts.
Alright, let's be honest—I'm bored without him around. I'll just go attend class from the next period. For now, I'll eat and chill a little.
Bell rings.
As much as I don't want to, I dragged myself back to class. But when I stepped inside, he wasn't there. My blood boiled.
"Wtf, man? Saying all those goody-two-shoes things and then bunking class himself?" I muttered angrily.
The girl sitting in front of me turned around.
"Chill out, he's in the nurse's room."
Shocked, I asked, "Wait, really? What happened?"
"He said he wasn't feeling well and asked permission to go," she replied.
My stomach dropped. Maybe he's sick because I didn't get him something to drink… T^T. What if he dies because of my stupid ego? I don't wanna go to jail T^T.
I sprinted to the nurse's office, flung open the door, and rushed to his side. I shoved the juice into his hand.
"Drink fast, you'll feel better. And… I'm sorry for being an asshole. I didn't know you really hadn't eaten breakfast."
"It's fine, really. Don't worry—it's not like I had nothing," he said weakly, a pained look still on his face. "I just… don't feel good. I think I'll take leave and rest at home."
He continued, "The nurse said nothing's wrong with my heart or body. She told me to rest here or at home for today, and if the pain comes back tomorrow, I should go to the hospital."
"Yeah… so I'll go home to rest. Meanwhile, I want you to attend class and tell me what she taught later," he added.
"You know I don't listen in class," I shot back, frowning. "So shut up—I'll be with you until you reach home safely."
He sighed, looking both tired and relieved. "You're impossible, Dylan."
"Impossible? No, no," I said, grinning as I sat back in the chair beside him. "I'm the best friend of the year. You'll see—they'll give me a trophy for babysitting your lazy butt."
He tried not to laugh, but I caught a smile breaking through the pain. And just like that, the room didn't feel so heavy anymore.
---
[MC's POV]
Dylan kept talking like nothing serious had happened, but my body still felt heavy. He noticed too and asked if I needed some water.
"I'm fine. Let's just go now," I said.
"Are you sure? The bell hasn't even rung yet," he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, I'm sure. It's just… I had the weirdest day today. I just want to go home and maybe sleep," I replied.
"Okay, okay," he said, picking up both his bag and mine. I tried to grab my bag back, but he wouldn't let me.
We walked together until we reached my house. "I'm home," I called out as I stepped inside.
My mom came out, surprised to see me so early—and even more surprised to see Dylan carrying my bag.
"Oh, your friend's here too! Come in," she said warmly.
But Dylan shook his head. "No, no, thank you. I actually need to go somewhere. He wasn't feeling well, so I just walked him home."
On the way, I'd already asked him not to mention my chest pain to Mom, or she would start worrying too much. Dylan had agreed.
After he left, Mom turned to me with concern in her eyes. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I said quickly. "Just need a bit of rest. I'll be okay."
I grabbed some food from the kitchen and took it with me to my bedroom.
After eating, I took the plate back to the kitchen and told Mom I was heading to my room to rest. She looked concerned, but I reassured her, "I'm fine. Just tired."
Back in my room, I collapsed on the bed. My chest still felt heavy—not painful, just an uncomfortable weight sitting inside me. I tried not to think about it. It's fine. Nurse said nothing's wrong.
I lay on my side, scrolling through random posts on my phone. For a while, everything felt normal. Too normal. Like nothing that morning had even happened.
But the longer I stared at the screen, the heavier my eyelids grew. My vision blurred, and the words stopped making sense. I blinked a few times, but my body was already giving up.
"Maybe I really do need a nap," I muttered, setting my phone aside. The ceiling fan hummed softly above, its rhythm pulling me deeper into stillness.
My thoughts scattered. Mom's faint voice drifted from the kitchen, but even that slipped away.
Light returned.
Noise too—but not from my room.
I was standing at a street corner. My head felt foggy, like I'd been dropped into someone else's skin. My hands didn't look like mine—thinner, paler.
Cars rushed past. My heart pounded without reason.
A screech of brakes sounded from somewhere behind me. I tried to move, but it was like I had no control. My body stepped forward on its own.
Headlights.
A horn blaring.
Impact.
The world spun, and I felt myself crashing to the ground. Pain shot through my skull—so real I thought it split open. Then everything went black.
I woke up with a gasp, clutching my head. My pillow was damp with sweat, and my chest hammered like I'd really been hit. I checked the time—it was only an hour later.
"Just… a dream," I whispered, though my voice cracked.
I stared at my trembling hand. "What's happening to me…?"