Behind the Smiles

Chapter 35: Dizzy

There was an early morning downpour and Timmy's car broke down halfway to the studio. He ended up having to toll it to the mechanics and took a taxi to work. Rushing into the building fully drenched from the rain, his manager herded him to get ready for the photo shoot. His wet clothes were hung at a corner to dry after he changed out of them. They blow-dried and styled his hair prior to doing his makeup.

Timmy glanced around and discovered that Johnny wasn't in the studio. "Bairen ge, am I doing the photo shoot alone today?"

"Yes. Lawrence called me earlier. Johnny has a black eye. Makeup won't be able to conceal it, so he has to skip today's photo shoot."

Timmy recalled Bo's bruised hand on the previous night. Did Bo hit him?

"It's a moisturizer ad. They have some extra photos of Johnny in hand, so it should be fine. They can edit him in with the products."

"I see."

"You don't look too good." Bairen noticed that Timmy wasn't his usual self. His eyes were a tad swollen and there were dark circles under them. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Timmy claimed.

"Spill it," Bairen insisted.

"I had insomnia?" Timmy came up with an excuse, which he appeared to be unsure of.

As a result, Bairen was not convinced. "Were you watching dramas again?"

"Yes, I was." Timmy went along with Bairen's assumption. "The drama was good."

"You shouldn't stay up so late watching dramas. You need to sleep or your skin will have breakouts."

"I know. I'll try not to do it before my next photo shoot."

Bairen could feel that something was wrong, but he didn't want to push too hard. "When will they be done fixing your car?"

"They are waiting for an engine part. It might take a week or so."

"I'll drive you home later."

"All right."

"How's the script reading going?"

Script. Are we still going ahead with the project? Is Johnny going to be in it with me?

"Timmy?" Bairen woke him from his thoughts.

"Huh?" Timmy stared at Bairen blankly.

"You're really out of it today."

"Sorry."

"Well, finish up and you can get some rest at home."

"Okay."

***

A week went by and things were back to the way it was before he met Johnny. Well, it wasn't exactly the same as before. Some of Johnny's belongings were left behind, and he didn't come back to retrieve them. Timmy never told him that he wasn't allowed to come collect his things, yet the man continued to stay away.

Timmy didn't know what loneliness felt like until he had Johnny and lost him. He was a happy person when he was single. Even though he lived alone back then, he never felt lonely. But then, Johnny showed up and forced himself into Timmy's world. He was always around, shamelessly flirting and driving Timmy crazy. Shockingly, the man's constant presence grew on Timmy and without him trailing beside at all times felt too quiet. Everything became boring without Johnny's added sparkles, as the guy would call it. Life was strange that way. Love could blossom when you least expect it. It was as unpredictable as the weather. It could be sunny one day, and rainy the next.

Gawking at his phone, a part of Timmy hoped that Johnny would be the one to take the first step. At the beginning, Timmy wasn't thinking clearly because he was angry. Once that anger subsided, he started coming up with various reasons as to why Johnny did what he did. Eventually, all that didn't really matter. He missed Johnny and wanted to talk things through with him. Yet, he was afraid. He didn't want to be a quest whom was conquered and discarded by Johnny.

***

Another week flew by. Timmy was sick at home with the flu. Perhaps, the stress had gotten to him and his body just couldn't hold up anymore. Sean and Bo wanted to come over to check on him, but he told them not to. They had important work to tackle, and Timmy didn't want them to catch his flu.

Stumbling toward the kitchen for a glass of water, Timmy focused on staying upright. It was quite the struggle since everything around him appeared to be swaying. I'm so dizzy. His coughing interfered with his pouring and the lip of the pitcher missed the glass. Water spilled on the countertop and onto the floor. Sighing, he ignored the mess and attempted to aim for the glass once more. This time, he managed to get the liquid in the glass and there was a moment of triumph.

Timmy returned the pitcher to the counter and drank the water in the glass. When his thirst was quenched, he placed the empty glass down. It was barely touching the edge of the counter which led it to fall off. Groaning, Timmy crouched down to clean up the shattered glass and ended up getting his right index finger punctured by one of the broken shards. Wincing at the pain, he decided that it was best for him to clean up when he felt better.

The spinning made him so nauseous, he had to close his eyes momentarily to stop the urge to vomit. He needed to lie down as soon as possible, so he pinballed his way back to his room. His finger was bleeding, but he just couldn't tend to it right now. Pulling a couple tissues from the box, he wrapped them around his finger to soak up the blood. With that, he crawled back into bed and huddled into a fetal position beneath his comforter.

A few hours passed. Lying in bed, Timmy felt the covers he had kicked off earlier being pulled back up to cover his body. There was a slight pain on his finger and he blindly swatted whatever was causing it away. He opened his eyes slightly to see a blurry figure sticking a cooling patch on his forehead. Drowsy from all his sleeping, he couldn't make out who the person was. Who...? Seconds later, he dozed back to sleep.

"Timmy, it's time for your meds," a familiar voice woke him up.

With dreary half-lidded eyes, Timmy sat up with the man's assistance. He took the meds that were fed to him and drank some water that was offered up to his mouth. His vision gradually cleared and he was glad to see that nothing was moving around anymore. Indeed, sleep worked wonders for his recovery.

"You must be hungry."

Timmy gawked at the person in front of him with a puzzled expression. "You..." His voice was hoarse and a fit of coughs followed. It can't be. He shook his head. I must be hallucinating.