AGAINST THE RULES

Chapter 15

"You're a reporter! Get your facts straight," Ohm Saetang laughs into his mobile phone.

"The insurance agents and the police needed information and so Win and Bright are meeting with them together."

Ohm laughs again, breezily like he was the most confident motherfucker who ever lived. "Missing each other? My goodness, have you become a shipper as well, Joshua? Yes, of course, of course. Once they are both healthy enough , you will get an exclusive. Excellent! Say hello to the wife for me. Good bye!"

Finally, he gets to end the call and let out a long drawn out sigh.

He shoots his assistants a text: "Get the insurance agents here NOW. Please."

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Junta Vachirawit smirking at him. He puts away his phone and smiles apologetically at Bright's mother.

"Sorry, journalists," he says as he stirs his now definitely tepid coffee.

Junta gives him a look. "Win is simply stopping by. You are over reacting."

"I assure you that the analytics-" Ohm starts but he is quickly silenced by Junta's cold stare.

"Drink your coffee. Have some of the rice cakes I bought. And relax," Junta says in a voice that sounded soft but was unmistakably an order.

Ohm takes a swift swig of his coffee and proceeds to stand up. "I will! I just have to go talk to the boys about -"

"Drink your coffee. Have a rice cake," Junta interrupts, less softly now. She pushes the tray of sweets towards Ohm, as if daring him to defy her.

Ohm sits back down and stuffs a Bu Lan Dan Mek in his mouth, looking longingly at the door separating the suite's kitchen from the bedroom. 'What the heck were those two doing?,' Ohm wonders as Junta starts talking to him about the Netflix documentary she watched last night. 'Maybe it's better if I don't know," Ohm thinks as he chooses another sweet.

- - -

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Or in this case, you can hear every beep and whirr of the machines surrounding Bright.

Win didn't really think this through.
Everyone was asleep, everything was quiet, and so he just started walking out his door, IV in tow like a pet dog. He was already in the east-wing of the hospital when he realized he didn't even know what Bright's room number was. It was sheer luck that there were only two VIP suites in the east-wing and one of them had ten reporters milling about the door. It made it easy to guess which housed Bright.

But now that he's here, what exactly was he doing here? Aside from staring awkwardly at the floor?

Win had begun counting the lines on his socks when he hears Bright say: "Win, I need you..."

Win's head whips up fast.

"...to hand me that metal rod,please," Bright continues, pointing to the object on top of the end table beside the window.

Win hands it over. "Here."

Bright proceeds to use it to scratch the inside of his cast.

"You have a cast," Win says.  'Way to point out the obvious,' he thinks and wonders if there was something wrong with his brain cells. Maybe he should get a CT-scan while he's here.

Bright nods. "You know, when I was a kid I thought having a cast would be so cool. But now, it's just itchy." 

"Be careful what you wish for," Win chuckles, more at ease. "Do you want me to help?"

Bright hesitates for a moment but nods. "If you don't mind?"

Win walks over to Bright's side and half sits on the scant free space on Bright's hospital bed. He takes the metal rod and gently inserts it in the cast, pulling it up and down against Bright's skin.

He looks at Bright and asks: "Am I doing it right?"

Bright suddenly coughs. "Yes. Thanks!," he says a bit hurriedly. "The itch is gone. I mean, my arm is okay now. Thanks."

Win withdraws the rod and squints at Bright. "Are you okay," he asks, worried. "You're turning red. Do you need me to call a nurse or a doctor?"

Bright shakes his head. "Don't. I am tired of being prodded and medicated. I feel like a lab rat."

Win mimics a mouse face and they both laugh.

"Intermediate care, huh?," Win says as he surveys the room. Unlike his which looked more like a hotel suite, Bright's room looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie. Three monitors surrounded the bed, a huge IV machine was on one side of Bright, and there were operating lights embedded in the ceiling - ready to be used at a pull of a lever.

"Even in healthcare, you have to one up me," he teases Bright.

"You already beat me at tic tac toe, I couldn't let you win longest hospital stay," Bright quips back.

"Longest? You're not getting discharged tomorrow?"

"They like caring for me more than they like caring for you," Bright smirked.

Win hits him playfully on the shoulder.

"Ow!" Bright exclaims, doubling over.

Win's eyes grow wide. Did he hurt him? How was he such an idiot? "I am sorry! Oh my God, let me call the doctor..."
Just as he was about to stand up and run to the call button, he sees Bright purse his lips, trying to hide his laughter.

"Haha," Win deadpans. "I should have hit you for real."

"I doubt your real punch would have been any harder," Bright says, smirking again.

"Excuse me, have you seen my biceps?," Win says in mock indignation. "These babies can knock anyone out cold."

He flexes his arm jokingly. Bright reaches over and squeezes it. This surprises Win, making him look at Bright who was still smirking and oblivious.

"You can't knock me out," Bright says before looking up. And just like that, Win and Bright were eye to eye.

Win clears his throat and slowly puts his arm down, Bright lets go.

"How long do you have to be confined here?," Win asks, changing the subject.

"The doctors are estimating another week, give or take. They need to make sure all of the infection is gone before they clear me."

Win realizes just how badly Bright's health was doing. "I should probably be letting you rest so you get better faster," he says, standing up to leave.

"Don't go," Bright says.

Win feels glued to the floor. His legs ineffective, brain definitely short circuiting.

"I mean," said Bright. "I mean," he starts again. "You should probably wait for Ohm to make sure the coast is clear outside."

"The reporters. Of course, yeah. I can wait for Ohm."

"He's just with my mom in the kitchen. I could call him in," Bright offers.

"No," said Win, a bit too quickly. "I mean. No need. He and your mom might still be talking."

He sits back down beside Bright on the bed. He scratches at his throat. Bright remains quiet.

Win then remembers his phone. "You know, we never got to finish watching Cars. You owe me."

Bright nods, sitting up taller on the bed. His shoulder grazing Win's shoulder, his head moving closer to Win's head. "Kachow!," he grins.

It's so cheesy, Win laughs. Then presses play.