Lackluster

Chapter V

Win was incredibly mistaken.

The encounters with Bright never stopped happening. He saw the asshole in the music store he frequented, his photography class, the park he passed by on the way home to work, and even at the café. It was almost terrifying how Win could immediately spot the mop of dark hair from afar and knew that its Bright.

You see, he wouldn't have a problem with that initially, but the asshole never stopped bothering Win in class, to the point that he almost considered just not attending any more of it. Bright would often prank, poke his arm non-stop, kick his leg, try to block his view of the professor, make annoying noises, and try to talk to him all throughout class. He honestly just wanted to scream his lungs out sometimes. It was insufferable. Bright was insufferable.

Insufferably attractive that's what! With his cute scars, his pout, his flawless hair, that damn smirk, and his eyes! Win couldn't help but feel frustrated with how Bright manages to be handsome and annoying simultaneously. He's also frustrated at himself for not being able to stop himself from stealing these secret glances at the man, when he got quiet, and he behaved sometimes.

Win almost thought he had a crush on the man—that's impossible. Win isn't attracted to men. It's just his stupid brain projecting his envy on Bright.

"Stop sulking. You'd lose customers by showing that face."

Oh, and Bright also happens to be the co-owner of the café he works at, and he was visiting every day. He truly has no escape.

"I'm not sulking. I'm thinking." He doesn't understand why Bright is trying to talk to him while he worked his shift. Isn't that some kind of unethical bullshit? I should've read the job manual.

"I highly doubt that." Win doesn't care.

"Why?"

Win regretted the moment that he asked that question instantly, judging by the slow shit-eating grin that appeared on the man's face when he did.

"You'd need a functional brain to think. That's why."

The insult had Win gritting his teeth.

"Asshole." He hissed to the man. It only made Bright smirk and chuckle. Win was cute when he gets frustrated.

"Aw. I don't think it's appropriate to call your boss an asshole. I don't think Pear would be pleased to hear that you're being a potty-mouth." The asshole had the audacity to pat his head, which made Win unconsciously lean towards the hand on his hair. He caught himself on time, before doing something embarrassing and smacked the hand away. He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and refused to make eye-contact with the man again.

"Shut up. I have a job to do, stop disturbing me." Bright chuckled at his disgruntled look and left to sit at the booth he occupied earlier that day.

Win felt relieved right away. He didn't even notice that he was holding his breath while talking to Bright. He needed to stop being so nervous around the guy. It's not helping him in any way. He shouldn't be stuck on Bright—there's more pressing matters that he needed to attend to, like his brother.

The hospital has been helpful to Win about the financial difficulties, but he couldn't afford to rely on them all the time. He needs to find some extra money to keep up with the additional medications for Type. The doctors told him last week that they needed a higher dose of medicine because something was slowing down the mending of the brain tissue. Win didn't understand half of it yet it felt like bad news either way.

The only problem is that Win doesn't know where he could find another job to squeeze in on his schedule to earn extra money. He asked Pear and Fong about it however, still no luck. Win tried to apply in every job available in the area, and he still hadn't heard back from them—he felt helpless somehow. Maybe he could go and apply in the club for bartending or waiting tables.