Page 23

23

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Alex

As my consciousness merged back with my body, the force of gravity pressed down on me more intensely. I felt like a massive boulder, unable to move, while my lungs automatically expanded and contracted like bellows. The fact that a machine was breathing for me didn’t matter.

When I regained consciousness, the tube had been removed from my throat. My lungs were working on their own again, and even in a half-asleep state, I relished being able to breathe freely once more. Exhaustion still coursed through my veins like thick slime, making my limbs heavy. Above me, thoughts circled like vultures, but I was not yet able to grasp any of them. Even opening my eyes required too much energy. I kept drifting off.

But that was okay. I felt warm and secure, experiencing a sense of contentment finally catching up on the sleep I’d been missing for weeks. And in the distance, I heard a steady beeping.

Gradually, I returned to full consciousness. As much as I wanted to drift back to sleep, the sound became increasingly intrusive. All at once, reality hit me like a sledgehammer.

I was at Livio’s.

I couldn’t breathe anymore.

Fuck!

Startled, I jolted awake, opened my eyes wide, and emitted some strained sound. I was lying in a dim room, but I comprehended that I was in the hospital. Instinctively, I yanked down the oxygen mask and gasped for air. This wasn’t a dream. I’d endured a damn tube down my throat. The face of a young man unexpectedly appeared above me. He had dark curls and a friendly smile. But he wasn’t wearing a doctor’s coat or nurse attire.

“Easy there. Everything’s fine. You’ve made it through the worst.”

With practiced movements, he put the mask back on my face, and I felt immediate relief of being able to breathe more easily. Exhausted, I lay back down and closed my eyes.

This can’t be real.

“I’m Martin,” the man said, who couldn’t have been much younger than me. “I’m here on duty. Do you need anything?”

A leaden heaviness settled over me, and I shook my head slowly. However, I couldn’t take my eyes off Martin. It felt good to have someone here who was present and not wearing a doctor’s coat. Books lay on the small table next to the window, and the curtain was drawn almost closed, leaving only a small gap.

“It’s just before sunrise. Sunday morning,” he said in his calm manner. “You’re probably exhausted. I’ll let you sleep a bit longer.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gradually became aware of my situation. Martin noticed my confusion and pulled the chair next to the bed. He sat down beside me, smiling as if he knew that everything would be okay again.

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered, wiping the tears from my eyes. It dawned on me that I was wearing some weird hospital gown.

“No need to apologize,” he said understandingly. “I’m here. Are you cold? Do you want another blanket?”

I nodded, feeling a sudden chilling coldness. Martin fetched one from the closet and draped it over me. As he lifted it up to my chest, he gently touched my right wrist.

“Careful. You’re still hooked up to the IV.”

Once again, I wiped the tears from my eyes. I didn’t know why I was crying, but it certainly wasn’t out of joy for being alive. Like a waterfall, all the shit was crashing down on me, and I no longer knew where my head was at. I’d been under so much pressure in the last few days that it wasn’t a surprise my body had given out. Yet even now, I couldn’t seem to organize my thoughts.

“Should I get someone for you? A doctor?”

“No. Please don’t. I just ... want ...”

I had no idea what I wanted, and I was uncertain about how to tame the chaos was also a mystery to me. But one thing was certain—this calmness Martin was giving me wouldn’t last long.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been admitted to a hospital. The long scar on my arm reminded me every day of the dark time a few years ago. It was so far back that I hadn’t even noticed I’d gotten lost in it again.

“Do you have any pain?” Martin asked, and I noticed he spoke in a different dialect.

His words managed to calm me down even more. I no longer had any physical pain. The burning sensation in my chest disappeared and I no longer felt dizzy. I slowly shook my head to indicate I was okay.

“But there’s still this other pain, isn’t there?”

I looked at Martin, who was sitting in his chair with one leg crossed over the other. Just his presence was soothing to my soul.

Maybe I need to take off the mask if I want to talk .

“Keep it on,” Martin said as I made a move to remove it.

“It’s all become too much,” I whispered.

“I know that feeling.” He nodded toward the table of books behind him. “Eventually, the pressure of exams just becomes too much, and you can’t take it anymore.”

“What are you studying?”

“I’m training to be a doctor,” he said proudly.

When I saw the sparkle in his eyes, I was enchanted. There was a passion in him that I’d only seen in a few people before. It was also evident in Noé when he talked about music, and it was partly why I was so determined to have him be part of my book project. And it was this sparkle that also piqued my interest in Martin. Not in the same way I was drawn to Noé, but Martin had something about him that made him seem like a saint in my eyes right now.

“I’d like to photograph you,” I said without much thought.

Martin laughed. “An artist?”

“No. I don’t see myself as an artist. I’m a photographer.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I don’t know,” I conceded. I definitely wasn’t strong enough for such a discussion right now. But I was serious. “I’m working on a book. A kind of photo reportage about people in Zurich. I’d like to have you be a part of it.”

“I’m a nobody.”

Those were the exact words Noé had used, and I frowned sadly at the brief pang in my chest.

“No. You’re not a nobody. You have something about you.”

The longer Martin scrutinized me, the firmer my determination became to do whatever it took to get these photos. Especially because he wasn’t from Zurich, he fit perfectly into this book. At first glance, he seemed ordinary, but what set him apart was that he didn’t wear a mask. He exhibited genuineness, without any defenses, and that was a quality worth capturing.

“You’re serious about this.”

“Absolutely.” Then I shook my head at the realization. “How pathetic, but it’s the only thing I have left.”

Martin laughed. “So dramatic. You remind me of my roommate. He’s an artist and isn’t big on optimism either.”

“Thinking about what’s in store for me here soon, it’s very hard for me to remain optimistic.”

“I understand. Are you really a photographer? Or is that just a ploy?”

“It’s not a ploy. I photograph almost everything. Advertising, architecture, reports. For the book project, you would need to sign a release agreement so I can use the photos.”

“Hmm ...”

“Do you have something to write with?”

Martin pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocked it, and handed it over to me. “Can you show me your website?”

I typed in the link to my photography site and handed the phone back to him.

As he scrolled through the pictures, I tiredly closed my eyes and tried not to think about anything. I managed to block out my messed-up life for a while, but not Noé. He had left a mark on me and wouldn’t disappear anytime soon. I had fallen in love with him, despite Chris warning me against it.

I’m such an idiot .

“They’re good,” Martin said.

But even his compliment didn’t console me over my sadness.

Then I heard a vibrating sound, resembling that of a phone inside a plastic box.

“What’s that?”

“I just called you,” Martin said, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “You have my number now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just have a soft spot for artists.”

“I’m not an artist.”

“Sure.”

By now, the sunlight streamed through the gap, while the hallway outside was getting busier. Although I still felt as heavy as a boulder, my mood had been lifted from the depths of pitch-black darkness.

“My shift is ending,” Martin said, getting up to pack his books.

“Thanks. You just saved me from losing it.”

“It’s all right. I don’t know if your day will be good, but I wish you all the best. And if you’re serious about this book...” He shrugged. “Why not? You can always try something new.”

“I’ll definitely get in touch. As soon as they let me out of here.”

Martin gave me another understanding smile, raising his hand before exiting the room. It was only now that I realized I was alone in a hospital bed. While I was glad for the solitude, it also reminded me of where I came from. After all, not everyone could afford private insurance. But even money couldn’t dissolve my problems.

I prepared myself for a while before a doctor came, but Martin must have reported before he left because the door opened no more than ten minutes later, and a doctor came in. She listened to my lungs and performed a handful of other examinations.

“I’ll keep you under observation for another night, Mr. Winter. If everything’s fine, you can go home tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

The woman was around forty and had a brown ponytail that was messily tied at the back of her head, along with dark circles under her eyes. She looked completely exhausted as she studied my file and jotted down a few notes. After a few moments, she pushed up her glasses and squinted suspiciously.

“You had quite a bit in your system. It wasn’t an overdose, but there was an interaction with the asthma medication. In your condition, it’s extremely foolish to do drugs.”

“In my condition?” I repeated, slightly amused. “It’s not like I’m pregnant.”

“You had respiratory depression, Mr. Winter, and we had to intubate you. You’re lucky you didn’t suffer brain damage from it. Considering the circumstances ...” She flipped through my file and raised her eyebrows. “I see you were here a few years ago due to a suicide attempt.”

I didn’t like where the conversation was going because I already knew what was coming. To end it as quickly as possible, I did the only sensible thing—the preemptive strike. “I’m already in contact with my therapist. So you can spare me the lecture.”

The doctor studied me with a thoughtful expression, then noted something in my file. “Here, put the oxygen mask back on. It’ll do you good.” Once she reduced the output on the machine, she left the room.

Shortly after, breakfast was brought to me. But I wasn’t hungry. Instead, I just sat there and focused on breathing. I wondered if what happened at Livio’s could have been prevented. Maybe if I had contacted Dr. Gerber earlier. Not burdened myself too much at work. My mother had taught me the truth with a little more finesse instead of shoving it in my face like shit. Or if I hadn’t been such an idiot to fall in love with Noé.

“Argh!”

At least the mask muffled my scream. But it was no use. I dragged my hands through my hair and felt completely off. And as much as my thoughts spun like a carousel in my head, they kept bringing me back to the same point. The moment Noé kissed Michelle.

That was my kiss!

Dammit!

I didn’t know what jealousy felt like before, but it tore me apart!

Michelle!

She was nothing special. Absolutely average! Totally normal and boring. She wasn’t even close to being a match for Noé! She was way too ... ordinary!

Why did he do that?

And suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks. How blind I was not to see the obvious.

Yes, Michelle was ordinary; probably nice. And completely predictable. Because that was exactly Noé’s tactic. He chose people who were easy to read. Women who were sweet and maybe didn’t have such a strong sense of self-worth. And with the men, he picked those who let him fuck them. If it was indeed true that he wormed his way into a bed this way, then the choice of his partners was solely about maintaining control.

I was the mistake.

Every time we had sex, we engaged in a silent battle because neither of us wanted to be outdone. And yet, he was the one who ultimately gave in. And, God, the sex was good! Every time! Just the memory of it was making me hard again.

At least everything down there is still normal.

But in my heart, chaos erupted. Damn it! I had confessed my love to Noé. The first time when I was totally high, and even the second time, after the concert, I was overwhelmed with excitement, but it was the truth. I had opened my heart to the guy and wanted him to be around me all the time.

What an idiot I am. All he wants from me is a warm bed and sex.

Or vice versa—sex and a warm bed.

I don’t know.

Or does he consider sex as some kind of payment?

Shit, I hope not.

The longer I thought about Noé, the more painful the feeling in my chest became. Gradually, I believed I was seeing through his game. And as crushing as the truth seemed, I was even more convinced that what we had together was still real.

The door suddenly opened, and Corinne walked in. Her swollen red eyes suggested she had been crying all night, but I had no energy to deal with it. I turned to face the other side, hoping she would leave. But she just came around the bed, sobbing, and sat down on the chair where Martin had been sitting. I was glad she didn’t say anything, but as she moved closer and took my hand, tears gathered in my eyes again. I almost managed not to fall back into the role of the disturbed boy, but unfortunately, not entirely.