Impress Me Not: Neon Underground

Chapter 67

It didn't feel comfortable. But it didn't feel uncomfortable. It was one of those strange feelings that he didn't want to be a part of. His mind felt strangely numb while his body was oddly cold. There were no thoughts going through his mind. It was a limbo of consciousness. He really wished that it would make up its mind.

Then he opened his eyes.

And wished that he had stayed in limbo.

There hadn't been many times that Melvin had been at the hospital. The first time wasn't for himself, and that was a horrible memory all on its own. This time, though, he was the one in the bed, with tubes and wires hooked up to him. The cold felt nice, but the sterile feeling of everything he touched mad him yearn to get out. Melvin liked keeping things clean, but he hated this type. It felt fake, as if it was trying to pretend that no one had ever laid on that bed before.

He wanted out of it. He wanted in his bed. Where he could lay on his side, and pull the covers all the way up. He could turn off all the lights and enjoy the dead silence. The only noise would be the occasional honking of a horn. Or a car that was blasting music. Sometimes birds would try to bother him, chirping loudly right by his window.

Waking up to chirping would be a godsend right then. The only chirping he had here was from a machine behind him. He didn't even want to try to look at it. He barely wanted to keep his eyes open.

"The good news is that his vitals are looking good," A man's voice woke him up further. He caught Melvin's eyes opening really quickly, getting closer to the bed. "Hey Melvin."

Vladimir. Melvin hadn't had the privilege of meeting him as a patient. Usually, he would actually talk to him during holiday parties and get togethers. His wife made the best fish tacos he ever ate. Everyone loved them so much she had to make them for every single event.

"Mel!" Mateo was the next person he saw. His bright green eyes were filled with worry. His hand immediately fell on Melvin's arm, rubbing it gently.

Then he started to look around, finding Anton and Gabe in the small room with him. He was glad to see that he wasn't alone in that room, but still so confused.

"What happened?" he asked, only then realizing that he had a tube in his nose. It had been helping him breathe, but it just felt like his throat was getting dry.

"Some jerk punched you at the club," Mateo answered. "The paramedics said that he winded you pretty bad, then they brought you here."

Ah, of course. Now it was all coming back to him. Melvin could barely remember the paramedics coming. It was all a giant blur as soon as he got hit. He had already been having troubles with his breathing before he got there. That fight was just icing on the cake of misery, he supposed.

"I don't think it's just a punch to the gut that brought you here," Vladimir said. His face showed an odd level of concern. "Your lungs aren't in the best of shape."

"Tell me something I don't know," Melvin tried to huff out a laugh. That huff quickly turned into a cough that moved his whole body. "What did the doctor say?"

"They want to keep you here for a few days," Mateo said. "They said something about a test they needed to wait on. They wanted to keep an eye on your vitals in the meantime."

A few days?! Melvin absolutely hated it here. It was uncomfortable, and there was nothing he could do here to relax. All he had was the beeping of the monitor machine and the few people who decided to visit. He would rather be home where at least he could be comfortable and watch some television or something.

He still had to call Alex to see what happened with the club. He was going to have to deal with the bouncers that hadn't been doing their job, too. And payroll hadn't been completed. He knew that plenty of his workers were relying on their checks to be deposited on time in order to pay bills and feed their families. It wasn't going to be fun if their checks were going to be late.