Win didn't want to be in the background of everyone's life any more, yet here he is. Here he is, standing under the shopfront window in front of two strangers, breaking up under the pouring rain. It's none of his business, he doesn't even want to be...
Sometimes Win thinks about how lucky he is to be ordinary. How no one looks twice in his direction, how he could blend seamlessly in the background of everybody's story, and how he could make a multitude of mistakes, yet get no shit for it. The perks of being a plain Jane...or Joe—whichever is appropriate.
It has been a week since the "dramatic rain break up" incident, and thankfully, Win hasn't had the unfortunate luck of running into Bright again. The embarrassment and mortification that he felt that night still follows him to this day. He wouldn't know what to do if he ran into the man once again. In the meantime, Win had been busy sorting out his applications for the sit-ins in the university. He applied for one in Photography, another in Linguistics, and the last is Multimedia arts. He'd wanted to apply for more but his limited schedule had hindered him greatly. After all, he still needs to earn money to get Type out of the hospital soon—the bills won't pay themselves.
Business had been usual for the most part of the past week except, for when Pear asked him this weird question about marriage. Pear was too young to get married, but what would Win know? Maybe Pear was genuinely serious about that mysterious man. She asked him if what would he do in a situation where he needs to get married in order to achieve his dreams, and of course he had answered that he would get married.
An unusual look flashed over Pear's face but it was gone in a second. She then asked Win if by then he didn't love the person that he would marry, then would he still do it? Win answered with a yes, again. He told her that, instead of worrying about whether he loves that person, he would first worry about, if he would get along with the person. If he could get along with that person, then surely he could learn to love them in some way in the future.
Pear didn't really say anything after that, and Win took that as his cue to leave.
The afternoon went by fast, and before he knew it—it was time for Win to go to his first class for university. He quickly changed into his casual clothes consisting of a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, khaki pants that reached past his ankles, and some loafers. Win didn't want to stand out too much, he's not even enrolled in the university therefore, keeping a low profile is a must.
When the clock struck 3 o'clock in the afternoon, Win was already settling down in his chosen seat at the back of the classroom, near the window. Inconspicuous and ordinary. His first class for today was a 2-hour lesson for linguistics. It was a fun subject, and he had been wanting to learn other languages in his free time but there's not a lot of free time when he had a job. This way he could actually dedicate a few hours to learning a language that appeals to him.
The class slowly started to fill up the room, and before he knew it, Win was already engrossed in listening to the professor talk about the history of linguistics. For the most part of the lesson, the class was quiet and Win was ultimately focused on the discussion, but he couldn't help the niggling thought at the back of his mind that someone was staring holes into his head. He'd wanted to turn and look for the culprit, however, he didn't desire to bring attention to himself.
Then he felt a kick to the underside of his seat. Now, Win wasn't for such childish shenanigans and ignored the first kick...and the second one...and the third—before the person at the back could kick his seat again, Win had already twisted around and looked at them with cold eyes.
"What the hell are you— "His question was cut short when he finally realized who the person behind him was. It was Bright.
He was sitting behind Win, dressed in a simple grey blazer, paired with a plain white t-shirt, and some black trousers. His hair fell effortlessly down the sides of his forehead creating a heart-shaped illusion of his face, his chin rested on his open palm, and his eyes bore into Win's. He only raised his eyebrows at Win's question. Was Bright always this attractive? Win shook away the thought quickly.
"Asshole! Stop kicking my seat, I'm actually listening here." He said, and then promptly turned around to face front once again. He heard Bright scoff, and then some rustling.
"I didn't know that someone like you goes to university. I thought you only served coffee."
Win gritted his teeth at the remark. If at first he wasn't sure if Bright was truly an asshole—now he's convinced. He'd wanted to make a scathing reply to the man but controlled himself. The man wasn't worth his time.
When he didn't reply, Bright nudged his seat again, causing Win's knees to hit the table and grimace after the pain shot through him. Win cursed silently and straightened up in his seat, choosing to continue listening than replying.
"Hmm... this is the third time that I've seen you. Are you following me around huh? Didn't think you'd be desperate enough to enrol into one of my classes."
Win hated how he couldn't just slap the shit out of this douchebag because he always remembered how angry Type got when he got into fights.
"Please, pay attention to the class." He spat out.
"What if I don't want to? What are you going to do?"
Again, Win couldn't believe his damn luck of sitting in front of this asshole.
"Then you're wasting your time and money."
"I don't think its wasting it, when I get to see you fuming." And the jerk had the audacity to laugh just loud enough for Win to hear.
Win just had to get through today, and then he could visit Type, do some light-reading, and make sure that tomorrow—he won't be anywhere near the vicinity of this asshole. Yes, that's exactly what he would do. Yet he couldn't deny how pleasing it was to hear such beautiful laugh even if it came from Bright.
Afterward, as soon as the bell rang to signify the end of the class—Win took the chance and bolted out of there without sparing a glance back at Bright. He thought he saw him try to call after him, but that was just his mind playing games on him.
He would be damned if he let that jerk mess with him even more. Sure, he felt bad that the guy got cheated on, and that he had been humiliated because Win had witnessed the couple's dramatic break up—still that's not a good enough reason for him to tolerate the annoying jerk. He has a brother to take care of, he doesn't need distractions now.
Once Win arrived at the door of his brother's hospital room, he took a deep breath in. He can't let the negative emotions he felt today to tarnish his time with his brother. After several breaths, he wrapped his hand on the cold knob of the door, and finally opened it to see his brother's peaceful visage sleeping on the hospital bed. The monitor beeping to the rise and fall of Type's chest as he breathes. He immediately dropped his belongings on the small two-seater sofa, and walked toward the table beside the bed, changing the withered Begonias into fresh blue Baby's breath that he picked up on the way. Type liked to keep a fresh set of flowers in their tiny apartment every week—Win's sure that he'd appreciate some here too.
After he checked the medical chart, and made sure that the medications were all administered—he eventually settled down on a chair by the bed. Being here with his brother, Win felt like he could breathe again. He felt seen again. Whenever he looked at his brother, he was reminded why he was still here despite how he was often overlooked by everybody else. It was for his brother. Win had to be here, even if he's rarely seen, for Type.
But Type had been in coma for two months now, and everyday Win hoped to see his brother's eyes open once more.
(A/N: Feedbacks are greatly appreciated.
P.S. This is how Win looked in this Chapter, and the photo above is how Bright looked.)
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