Chapter 5
535words
Some abnormal reading, urging Kyle to get rechecked.
He didn't seem concerned, just shoved the paper away. He cleaned the apartment thoroughly, top to bottom. Looked like he wasn't planning to die anymore.
Good.
He better figure out how to redeem himself.
If he pills this again...
I'll stab him.
...
Kyle quickly found a job delivering food.
He'd start in the afternoon, work a late-night courier shift until the early hours, and come home to sleep in the morning.
He was like a zombie, numb, just going through the motions.
He didn't ask anything of me. In face, he gave me $200 pocket money every day.
LOL.
So I'm basically a sugar baby now?
I don't even look at price tags when I buy clothes anymore!
But the good life didn't last long.
Mrs. Baker from downstairs knocked to complain.
She said she was the building rep.
My all-night gaming sessions were too loud. My whooping and yelling at 3 AM was disturbing the peace.
Damn.
If gaming ain't hype, are you even young?
Can't sleep 'cause you're menopausal, so you take it out on your neighbors?
I wanna slap her twice!
I sat fuming on the couch.
Kyle, just home from work, paused, giving me a questioning look.
Next day.
He bought a bunch of colored foam squares and covered the entire bedroom wall with them.
No clue what he was thinking.
I swear I was quieter.
But a few days later, Mrs. Baker was back.
Asked if I could stop jumping around at midnight. Her heart wasn't good.
LOL.
If you don't jump up and down, shake the desk and chair a little to celebrate a win, are you even really a gamer? Why's she got so many damn complaints?
I meant to say, "I'll try to be quieter."
What came out was. "Fuck off."
And I slammed the door without thinking.
I turned around and met Kyle's gaze.
Silence hung heavy for a few seconds.
Kyle suddenly asked.
"Maybe you could find a day job? Working nights and staying up all day gaming isn't good for your health."
"You think I'm freeloading? That I don't pull my weight?"
Kyle looked utterly exasperated. He bent his head, focusing on applying ointment to a cut on his arm.
He kept getting hurt delivering food.
Today, several scratches on his arm, his shoulder bruised purple.
Is delivering food that dangerous?
Or was someone messing with him?
I puffed up, pressing my hand on Kyle's shoulder.
"Tell me. Is someone bullying you?"
"Who dares bully my hubby?"
Kyle stared at me.
Why's he looking at me like that? All... mushy?
Oh, his parents are gone. No one to stand up for him.
But I'm still here!!
I count as family!
No one gets to bully him!
Kyle lowered his gaze, his voice tight.
"Then... could you pick me up after work?"
"After I finish the bar district deliveries, around midnight, I'm done."
"Deal! I'll quit gaming! I'll pick you up every night!"
Kyle quietly packed away the first aid kit. His bangs fell over his eyes, but I swear the corner of his mouth lifted.
