Hypnotised (Magnets Book 2)

Chapter 3

Phil's POV
There was a knock at our door, interrupting our tender moment. I reluctantly pulled away from Dan and went to answer it. Standing there was an anxious looking Chris.

"Hey dude," I greeted him.

"Hi Phil," he responded tensely.

"Do you wanna come in?" I asked him. He nodded in response and followed me into the kitchen.

Chris lived not far away from us in London. We still saw him quite frequently, and his YouTube channel was going well. However, I had heard rumours that he was financially unstable... And could get a little depressed at times. He survived though. We all tried to.

Dan greeted him warmly with a cup of tea. Chris took it thankfully.

"So, guys." He started. "I need to tell you something."

Dan threw a glance at me, pity evident in his eyes. He knew what is was like to be so emotionally fragile.

"Go ahead," I urged.

"So..." He tried. His hands shook. "You know that P-Peej is still in the mental hospital?"

Dan nodded patiently. Chris drew in a shaky breath. This must have been hard for him. Unlike us, he was subject to PJ's explosive anger attacks for years. PJ had been his tormentor, he had manipulated him. Chris wasn't ready to get over that yet.

"He's coming out in a few weeks, but he has nowhere to stay, so I offered. But I don't even own if I'm ready to see him again.... I can barely even think about him."

"We'll go with you," I said. Dan nodded, confirming that I had made the right decision. Of course, we had been to see him a couple of times.

"Why'd you offer, though?" Dan questioned.

Chris shrugged. "I didn't... Didn't think it would be good for him to be with someone who wasn't familiar with his condition..."

Dan nodded sympathetically. We stood for a few more seconds in silence. Chris seemed lost in thought. Dan was looking at him with something like concern in his eyes.

I clapped, bringing them both to attention. "Shall we go, then?"

And so we left the apartment, stepping out into the fresh winter sunlight. Chris was noticeably paler than before. I nudged him.

"Hey. He's better now. He won't hurt you." And it was true. Whenever Dan and I visited, he only expressed extreme remorse, apologising copiously for his actions when we were younger.

We had forgiven him, but we weren't sure Chris would do the same.

It was very crowded on the tube. This seemed to knock Chris's anxiety levels up another notch. He stood stiffly, gripping the bar with white knuckles.

Not long we were standing in front of the hospital. It was a squat, boring bricked building. Chris took a deep breath before walking through the front door. We followed suit.

The interior was also boring, with squeaky linoleum floors and white walls. The smell of antiseptic permeated our noses.

There were basically two sections of the hospital: the closed ward and the open ward. The closed ward was for those that were so emotionally unstable that they were a danger. They were under constant watch from burly guard and could not be visited by the public.

The open unit was for the less extreme of cases. The hospital considered putting Peej in the closed ward, he told us, but they changed their minds when he expressed remorse.

We walked up to the front desk. "Hi," I said to the receptionist.

"Hello. Can I help you?" She said with a smile that did not quite meet her eyes.