3

After Violet couldn’t respond, I said my goodbyes, even though it seemed like she hadn’t fully absorbed what I said. She’s always been vicious towards me. I don’t know what her problem is when it comes to me.

She was a classmate of Kei and me back in college. She wasn’t the prettiest, the wealthiest, or the most popular student—she was well-known for being a bitch and a slut, not my words, theirs. She didn’t excel in any subjects, but she always had new things and clothes to show off. She knew how to work her way out using money that wasn’t hers. I never heard from her again after we graduated college, and I’m glad.

She’s the first person I’ve met who would brag about having a sugar daddy. I mean, I’m not against it, maybe they really do love each other. But why does she have to belittle and look down on others, especially students?

I hung out at a nearby coffee shop to calm down my irritation. I didn’t choose the wrong place to enter. The atmosphere around me was relaxing. There’s a large tree in the middle of the café, clearly older than the establishment itself, and instead of cutting it down, they incorporated it into the design, which made the place feel more homely and relaxing.

There are sofas and bean bags, along with other comfy chairs. There are round and long tables, and there are also two bookshelves at the far end of the café. Some people were looking for books to read, while others were already seated, drinking coffee and reading.

It actually gives me a relaxing ambiance. I salute the owner who thought this was possible. For a reader like me, I’d rather hang out here than go to a bar. Oh well.

When I was sure I wasn’t irritated or annoyed anymore, I left the café, but I stopped when I realized it was raining heavily. I couldn’t help but sigh. Bad luck, why now? I looked at my wristwatch and saw that it was almost afternoon.

I decided to sit back down in the spot I had just vacated, but I ordered a coffee first, so it wouldn’t seem rude to just loiter there.

“Shit.” I heard someone mumble, so I looked up and saw a man in the corner, holding his arm. That’s when I noticed the bloodstain on his arm and the sleeves of his polo shirt.

I frowned as I looked at him. He was with another man who seemed a few years older than him. The older man was holding some cotton with betadine, and there were band-aids, cotton, gauze, and betadine on their table.

“What the hell were you thinking? You’re really an idiot; you always get yourself into trouble. I mean, I could’ve handled that on my own,” said his companion, laughing as he dabbed cotton on the bleeding arm.

“Damn you, bro,” the wounded man laughed. “Why were those guys chasing you, anyway? Don’t tell me you owe them money? You’d rather die than borrow money, and besides, you don’t need to borrow from anyone.”

“Jeez, I don’t know what’s up with those ugly guys, they just suddenly started chasing me,” the man said, laughing.

“Then why did you run?” his companion asked, frowning.

“Hmm.” He looked into space before answering, “It’s fun.”

I almost slapped my forehead because of the man’s answer. From their conversation, they’re brothers, and it seems like his brother helped him and took the brunt of it. I also noticed that the older brother had bruises and a cut on his lip, if I’m not mistaken.

“How do you even put this gauze on?” It was clear from the man’s face that he didn’t really know what he was doing or how to apply it. I also noticed that the wound wasn’t properly cleaned yet.

I took a sip of my coffee before sighing and standing up, then I approached them. I always experience situations like this. I’m not just a bystander nurse, even though I don’t practice every day, I can still manage.

“Excuse me.” I caught their attention as they both turned to look at me at the same time. “Would you mind if I do that?” They both frowned. “I’m a registered nurse.”

The man quickly stood up and put down the gauze he was holding. “Oh, go ahead. I’m sorry, I’m dumb, even with a first aid kit.” I just nodded and managed to give him a small smile before sitting in his previous spot.

I quietly took a fresh cotton ball and dabbed it with betadine. I sanitized my hands using the alcohol on the table and started to wipe the damp cotton on his wounded arm. I heard him softly groan as the cotton touched his wound, which, if I estimate, was around four to six cm long.

He probably got it from a knife or something sharp. It wasn’t too deep, so first aid should suffice, but he still needs to go to the hospital for antibiotics if needed or to check if stitches are required.

I took a small pair of scissors from my bag and cut the gauze and medical tape, then carefully applied them to cover his wound.

“There, done.” He looked at me, and that’s when I noticed his appearance. He has brown eyes, gray undercut messy hair, and a fair complexion that makes him more attractive, well, by women’s standards. “But you still need to get that checked at the hospital. You might need some meds since that wound is quite long.”

“Wow, amazing. Thank you, Miss...” said the older man.

“Addison. No worries, I’ll go ahead,” I said goodbye to them before returning to my table to grab my things. Just as the rain had almost stopped, with only a light drizzle remaining, I hurried out. I didn’t miss the gaze of the man I treated from the coffee shop.

Weird guy.