MR. BAD GUY (ENGLISH VERSION)

IT'S A HARD LIFE

On the plane back to London just minutes before the landing at Heathrow, Enzo fainted again. Tarek was beside him. They were talking about all that was in store for them in United Kingdom. The next thing was Enzo with his head back, closed eyes and open mouth. Tarek cried out help, frightened. He had never seen Enzo like this before. He didn't think in a faint but a stroke or heart attack. A passenger who was a nurse run to help him. His unconsciousness just lasted some minutes. He opened right away his beautiful eyes and came out again to the real world.

Little by little he thought over and found out what happened. Tarek and Phil put them on his side, by nurse's command. A steward grabbed his legs and put them high. Taron fanned him. Once at the airport they drove him in ambulance till the hospital. Tarek was with him and Phil and Taron stayed in charge of the luggage. In the hospital he underwent a electrocardiogram and he was treated with serum and glucose that must be given intravenously. Pauline and Duncan came in right away. John; his doctor and friend called too.

- What a fright, my dear -Pauline said embracing him.

- I'm fine. It was just a faint. They told me that if I don't feel dizzy I can go home.

- There are paparazzis outside the hospital waiting for you.

- Alright.

Enzo was used to all that. It was the price of fame and as the years go by he had taken reasonably well. He positioned between Carl and Taron, as he used to do in those cases. The paparazzi, as usual unpolite to the point of nausea, tried to push their phones against his nose. He answered shortly to some questions that had decent reply and the questions he didn't want to answer, he chose to shut his mouth up.

- Shit, thank God it's over -he said sitting on the back seat of the jeep.

The path between the hospital and his car lasted about thirty seconds at a steady pace, but it was an oddisey. With the 24 hours journey, the exhaustion from the faint and the impertinent questions of those jerks, he had nearly a breakdown. Between the Hammersmmith hospital and Old Brompton Road was still twenty minutes so Enzo put his head on his husband's lap and fell asleep from tiredness.

The half an hour of sleep suited him fine to get home with his batteries recharged. For quite a while he just cared about meeting all his cats and play with them. They were his children after all and had missed them like hell. As they missed him.

Duncan was not very far from the tender scene waiting for Enzo started to light the fuse and bring up the subject. If there was some change in his babies he noticed. He noticed some changes in Lizzie, his beautiful Persian cat. She was apathetic, she had no strenghts even to wash herself. When he was to hold her in his arms, she let out a piercing pained meow. Then he lit the alarm signals.

- Duncan! What the hell is happen to Lizzie? Didn't you take her to the veterinary as I told you?

- Yes, I did.

- And? What's wrong with her?

In that moment it could fall Hiroshima and Nagasaki bomb over them and nothing could disturb him. His eyes were fixed on him and his answer. He didn't care anything else in the universe.

- You know, Enzo. Seemingly Lizzie has developed a lymphoma in her kidneys.

- Oh, my God. It's cancer, isn't it?

- Yes, it's a cancer inside the white blood cells.

- How long have you known it?

- Enzo, it didn't make sense telling you in your honeymoon. It was useless to upset you.

- I would fucking get back inmediately. She's my cat, don't you understand?

- There's no difference if you would. The cat is treated.