ORC
She was here, the counterfeit gold big ear loops she always wore were rusted and her skin tight jeans were dirty. The expression she wore on her face was forlorn and distant, her dark hair done in a rough ponytail and she wasn't wearing her flip flops. She was barefoot. "Momma?" She didn't answer, almost as if she couldn't hear him. She stood by his bedside, her sharp blue eyes boring into him but it appeared she wasn't really seeing him. "Momma." She shook her head and got up, walking slowly towards the door. He tried to get up but he couldn't. It was like he was tied down, couldn't breathe. He needed air. "Momma wait." She didn't turn back. In the blink of an eye, she was no longer there. He jolted up from the dream. He gasped and breathe heavily, trying to take in air as sweat dripped down his face. His eyes shifted around his surroundings as he did so. Sunlight drifted in the open window, as he gulped. It'd been a dream. It surprised him. He hadn't dreamt of her for a very long time now. He rubbed his face and checked the time from the wristwatch on his bedside table. Quarter past eight. He got out if bed and made his way to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and had a quick shower before entering the kitchen/sitting room. He filled a glass with water from the tap and drank it all, while sitting on a chipped stool. He down turned the glass on the shaky table and rested his elbows on it. Something flared in his memory. Last night, he'd been kissed. He touched his lips as he reran the incident that'd happened. The party, the angry guy and then, the kiss. His heart thumped as the feel of lips on his still lingered in his mind. Someone had kissed him. He didn't know how to express what he felt since it was alien to him. He cheeks turned upwards. Then he remembered what happened afterwards. The disgust on his face. He'd never forget. It wasn't new to him, but this time it was different. The appalment shown vividly shown on his face, as if he couldn't believe he'd kissed someone like him. His stomach churned. He knew he was not a sight to behold but his kisser shouldn't have shown how revolted he was. Humiliation filled him. It wasn't his fault, damnit. He'd been just a waiter at a party, doing his job and the bimbo had to ruin that for him. He'd left the party with Miss Sarah's car and without his paycheck. He'd been embarrassed and furious, emotions running through him and he'd tried ignoring them all. He'd never felt so raw since his Momma had left him. "Arc?" He didn't turn to look at his sister, he kept his gaze fixed on the table and fingered the blue ragged tablecloth. "Are you okay?" "You saw it, didn't you?" She didn't speak for a moment. "Sarah came back early yesterday and suggested we watch the event live on her television." Arc sighed. His sister had seen him live, on tv. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Her voice sounded almost quiet. She was treading carefully. "The tray of glasses you were holding shattered on the floor. You're not injured?" "Don't treat me like something that'd break down Penelope. I'm fine." He hardened his voice. " Last night was just bad luck. It happens all the time." No it didn't. Last night was worse than bad luck. It's not everyday you get a kissed at a party and get revoltingly rejected for how you looked. She sat on the stool beside him. "Don't let what happened last night get to you. The guy clearly has poor taste in men." That wasn't a lie. He'd gotten cheated on and he'd kissed a distorted guy next. Expertly poor taste indeed. "I'm headed out to work." "Won't you have breakfast before you leave?" "I'm not hungry. I'm gonna be late." He got up and reached for his satchel. When he got back, he'd apologize to Miss Sarah for losing the mask. He didn't think he could go back there and look for it. He couldn't blame what'd happened on the woman. She'd tried to help and it had resulted in something dreadful. "You didn't eat last night." She protested, her face scrunched up in disagreement. "There's gonna be free breakfast at Bill's today." "What, pig food?" He slung the bag on his right shoulder. "Your limp is worse, did you take your pain killers last night?" She said as he tried to walk, his right leg screaming in protest. "I'm fine." He managed to walk to the front door without groaning."But you don't look fine. You look like you're in pain." He paused at the door. "You should stay in today. Bill wouldn't mind."
"You know he will."
"He wouldn't miss one worker for a day."
"I can't. We need the money."
"I'm sure we can manage for a day or two. And Bill is like his pigs. I couldn't put up with him that's for sure."
"I have to put up with him, he's my boss."
"Who says you have to?"
They've had this argument more times than he could count.
"I have to work Penelope, don't wait up for me if I'm running late "
"Arc."
He mustered under his breath. "What?" Her eyes shone as her lips trembled. "Someday, someone will make you realize that you're so much more valuable than you think you are." He doubted that.Chelsea Five years had passed in the blink of an eye. His relationship with Arc had been a journey, filled with ups and downs. At first, there were Arc's doubts, which lingered despite Chelsea's best efforts to reassure him. Then, Penelope had left for college after , leaving Arc heartbroken. Chelsea remembered the day vividly - Arc's brave face at the airport, followed by tears and stories of their childhood in Chelsea's arms that night.As time went on, Chelsea encouraged Arc to pursue his passions. Arc had always dreamed of being a writer, having penned children's stories in his youth. But those stories had been burned, a painful reminder of his mother's departure. Chelsea's presence in his life had slowly begun to heal those old wounds, and Arc was finally starting to rediscover his love for writing.Arc's dream of pursuing an online English course had been within reach, but the tuition fees had seemed insurmountable. That was when the town had rallied aroun
Arc Arc's grip on Chelsea's hand tightened as they drove down the winding road, the destination unknown to him. Curiosity swirled in his chest, but it was overpowered by a creeping sense of fear. What if this was all just a dream? What if he'd wake up to find Chelsea gone, and he was still trapped in that cold, dark place? The memory of the stone slab and the menacing woman's face lingered, making his heart racing. Fear of being truly alone threatened to overwhelm him. So he held on to Chelsea's hand, his fingers intertwining with Chelsea's as the other hand steadied the wheel. Arc snuck a glance at Chelsea, finding him intently focused on the road ahead, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. There was a sense of determination etched on his face, as if he was on a mission. Arc's curiosity piqued, wondering what could be so important that Chelsea felt compelled to show him. A nagging doubt crept in - could this be some kind of cruel prank, designed to mock him? It was po
ChelseaChelsea stood at the door, his lip caught between his teeth as he hesitated over the plan he and the others had devised. The memory of the pain he'd caused Arc still lingered, and he'd long since accepted the weight of his mistakes. Yet, despite Arc's skeptical gaze and blunt refusal, Chelsea had glimpsed something else - a flicker of hope that had ignited a spark within him.He stared at the aloe vera plant, seeking answers, but its spiky exterior simply faced the open air, unmoving and unresponsive. The fact that it was still very much alive only seemed to mock him, a reminder that even the most resilient things couldn't provide the solace he sought.As dusk approached, the sun cast a warm, golden glow. The others had pressured him to put their plan into action the day Arc left the hospital, but Chelsea had insisted on giving him time to rest. However, he couldn't deny the truth: he'd been afraid to face Arc, to feel the weight of his disappointment, to see the d
ArcArc stepped out of the hospital, and the cool air hit him like a slap in the face. He felt a rush of emotions: relief from escaping the hospital's sterile smell and the suffocating white walls, annoyance at the doctor's presumptions and Chelsea's sudden reappearance.But Chelsea... Arc's mind snagged on the thought of him. He didn't know what he felt about Chelsea. Maybe he knew, but he didn't want to acknowledge the spark of happiness that had flared to life when he saw Chelsea standing in his hospital room. Arc tried to squelch it down, to bury it beneath a layer of anger and hurt.He didn't trust Chelsea. He didn't know why Chelsea was really back, and he wasn't going to let his guard down again. But despite his best efforts, memories came flooding back: the pain, the heartache, the longing. Arc's chest constricted, and his left leg wobbled beneath him. He stumbled, catching himself on a nearby car.As he leaned against the cool metal, Arc felt a wave of fear w
ChelseaArc drifted in and out of consciousness, his mind foggy and his body weak. Chelsea sat beside him, holding his hand and whispering words of encouragement. The doctor came in regularly, checking Arc's vitals and reassuring Chelsea that he was on the mend."He's doing well, considering," the doctor said, smiling kindly at Chelsea. "The fever's broken, and his infection is responding to the antibiotics. He just needs rest and time to recover."Chelsea nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He glanced at Arc, who was stirring again, his eyes fluttering open.The doctor smiled. "He's going to be okay. And I think having you here is helping him. When he's deep in sleep, he always reaches for you. It's quite remarkable."Chelsea's heart swelled with emotion. He was grateful to be able to be there for Arc, to provide comfort and support during this difficult time.Just then, a commotion erupted outside the hospital room. The band of grandmothers and book club membe
ChelseaChelsea's gaze lingered on Arc's fragile form, stretched out on the hospital bed like a broken doll. The steady beep of the machine was a harsh reminder that Arc's life hung in the balance. Chelsea's mind reeled with regret and self-recrimination. Why had he left him? Why had he abandoned him when he needed them most? The weight of his mistake threatened to crush them.As he stood there, frozen in anguish, the door burst open and Penelope stormed in. Her hazel-brown eyes blazed with fury, and her brown hair was disheveled, as if she'd rushed out of the house without bothering to brush it. Her glasses were knocked askew, sitting crookedly on her nose, and her rumpled clothes suggested she'd thrown them on in a hurry. Beside her, a girl with a worried expression tried to calm her down, placing a restraining hand on Penelope's arm.But Penelope shook her off, her eyes fixed on Chelsea. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice like a whip.Chelsea opened his mouth to spea