Call It What You Want (BounPrem-Reimagined)

xxii

I guess I badly jinxed myself. I though alcohol would always, always, give you warmth and comfort but all it did to me the entirety of the dreadful night is to push me farther into this sinking feeling of sheer embarrassment and emptiness.

Once left me with not so much of a word but just spilling bitten-back tears, I managed to will myself further down both in a pit of unsettling thoughts and the dustier part of my carpeted bedroom floor. I tossed and turned in my quite uncomfortable space and position, my clasped hands being the only support that I could get in the situation. Once I settled with resting on one side, facing my window, I just waited for time to breeze through, literally just waiting for light to cast through my room, indicating that the sun has finally risen.

I've always been curious as to where Prem has been going very late at night. And yes, I did have a suspicion about his whereabouts but I shrugged the idea off as soon as it even touched my mind. I don't know. Maybe I was just trying to deny it to myself, too. Turns out, the small thought was actually correct. What was I really expecting? For him to just turn his back away from his original job? For him to drop it completely? Maybe. Maybe I helped him get that job in the bookstore in hopes of him dropping his job as a stripper in a gay strip club. Maybe because the thought alone of him having that same intimacy that we had in that club booth is unsettling to me, just maybe.

Anyways, confirming my suspicion on him still working in the club doesn't bother me one hundred percent. Yes, I get jealous to the thought of him putting on a show for other men but it's his job. I respect him having that job and to be honest, I never looked down on him for being a stripper. Sure, I wanted him to consider new jobs but that is because I wanted him to try. I wanted him to see that he's capable of doing other job. I wanted him to realize that he's capable of doing other stuff since sometimes whenever we talk about these stuff, I could sense that he doesn't want to be stuck in the club for the rest of his life. Also, he might think that he got the job at Fluke's solely because of me but what I didn't tell him is that Fluke was actually impressed with his attitude. Numerous times, Fluke would call or message me, praising Prem as he's satisfied with how Prem interacts with the customers. This just shows how genuinely pure he is.

Rubbing my face with a grunt, I pushed myself up off the floor and went straight to my bathroom. Hangover, who? My mind's too occupied with so much words that a hangover couldn't even push itself through my systems; I'd rather just go to my office and jot my words down but I badly wanted to hear what's been in Prem's mind. I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, washed my face and even shaved a little - as if I were some geeky freshman, anxiously getting ready for his first date with his first crush.

What will I even say to Prem? I have no idea what happened; no clue how I made him cry. He was upset with something and quite frankly, he was upset with me being drunk. I never knew it was that big of a deal for him, me getting drunk, I mean. He's seen me drink a handful of times before, none of which bothered him, or maybe that's just what I thought? I don't even know anymore.

After a little more self-persuasion and motivation; a little bit of pep talk whispered to one ear and the other, I finally left my room, going downstairs as I heard someone in the kitchen. "Um, good morning." I cleared my throat, biting back my tongue as I slowly walked awkwardly near to where Prem is.

"Oh, hey. G'morning." He spoke casually, flashing me a small smile. I found it weird because okay, maybe I wasn't expecting that response, more so, I wasn't expecting for him to respond at all.

"Um, about last night-"

He cut me off with a cough. "Sorry I wasn't able to prepare a decent breakfast." He hopped off of the stool that he's been sitting on in front of the counter, gathering his used bowl, glass, and silverware. "Need to go to the bookstore extra early, Fluke told me that he needs help fixing the storage room or something." He chuckled, not even batting an eyelash my direction as he went for the sink. He pushed past me, going straight for the stairs and up to his room. Slapping myself off of this hugely confused state, I turned to follow him.