What is it about..? (JeffBarcode)

Lump in the throat

They briskly walk along the corridor, with bodyguards on both sides. They pass people from technical support and continue to wave hurriedly to their friends.

The music thumps through the walls, as if it will never sleep.

"Jeff, you're dirty. Did you fall?" Win asks.

"Yes, a bunch of people pulled us down," he says tensely.

Barcode immediately turns to him. "WHAT! Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he answers carelessly. "Just go, please," he says.

Several paramedics suddenly rush out of the corner and run past them.

"Shit," Barcode sighs, picking up his pace.

The moment their feet leave the threshold of the building, they are surrounded again by a crowd of fans.

Jeff squeezes Barcode's shoulder tighter, feeling his heart racing.

Please, not again. Not today.

Yeah... fake smile here.

Nice to wave.

Fake smile there...

It's crowded again.

Win puts his hand around Jeff's shoulder. "We're almost there," he says to his ear.

Too many faces.

Too many bodies.

Too less of oxygen.

Ah, mobile phones everywhere.

Car door. Thank God.

Big thanks to all the security. Deep respect. Deep bows and get inside.

Barcode sits in the back. Jeff slides in beside him. The artists sit down in front of them.

"Where are we going?" asks the chauffeur.

"To Jeff's house," Namtarn immediately replies.

"No, I'll be the last one. First to the studio so you can pick up your cars," Jeff says.

"Not today, man. You go first and not a word," says Win sternly, pointing at him.

Jeff just rolls his eyes. "Okay," he sighs. As Win turns forward, he reaches for Barcode's hand.

Heart still racing rapidly. Adrenaline still at its highest peak.

"You are shaking," whispers Barcode.

"It's nothing," he replies in a whisper.

The car is still waiting, indicating that the road is not yet clear. An ambulance passes by, and finally, they can proceed.

After a few minutes, the car speeds down the highway as if it's still escaping from hell.

Jeff closes his eyes, sighing.

The pain shows up under the right ribs. Damn it.

He frowns, stretching his neck... head hurts from behind.

Fuck.

"Are you hurt?" Barcode asks, still staring at him.

"No," he denies right away.

Bullshit.

"Your phones, guys," Namtarn calls, handing them over her shoulder.

"I need to call Creamy. She has already chased me twice," Barcode says tensely.

"Wait with that," Winchatra firmly advises. "Just breathe, for another minute."

Jeff's cell phone vibrates in his lap.