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    Click click click click click click click click click -

    The clicking stopped, as did Noah's breath. His widened, pale red eyes reflected the screen's light shakily. Then, his lips parted and, after a few seconds, he took a huge gulp of air, clenching his chest.

    With that, he frowned and tsked, taking another gulp of coffee before restarting the game.

    Him and his IT colleagues had a Minesweeper tournament by which they kept trying to break the previous record. Chester was the current top, having completed the intermediate stage in 36 seconds.

    Noah was on his way on trying to beat him, but it was becoming more and more difficult the more coffee he consumed. His fingers were sweaty and his eyes kept shaking randomly, let's not mention the random spasms of his heart.

    He could tell these were all symptoms of an approaching overdose, but he was in the middle of something! Minesweeper, that is.

    "Fuçk, fuçk!" he whispered. He won the match, but the time was 43. His stupid heart was distracting him from the game.

    Restart.

    Click click click click click click-

    "Fuçk!"

    He took another few gulps of coffee and restarted, leg bouncing loudly.

    All was going smooth, now. He opened 4 spots from the start and so he didn't have too much left to solve. He could do this, second 26 and he was nearly there-

    Someone entered his office and he halted on the seat, away from the desk.

    "Fuçk, dude!" he yelled. "Fuçk!"

    Chester looked from him to the cups all over his desk and then to his bouncing leg.

    "Noah." he approached casually, holding a box. "Come on. I'll hold your hair."

    "I'm not going to throw it up." Noah's head cocked frontwards. All white and shaky with dark circles, he looked like an ambulant corpse. "I'm good. I'm great. Fuçk him."

    "Fuçk who?"

    "Fuçking Kent- ah!" he raised a fist and then punched his chest. "Stupid fuçk."

    "That stupid fuçk would have to be your heart. Noah, pull your shit together."

    "What's that?" Noah stood up and stumbled around the desk twice before gripping the box, after having pushed Chester away. He opened it to reveal a nice, clean top hat.

    "Some woman told me to give you this so that you give it to Morris. He wouldn't take it from her or whatever. But we have a bigger problem to deal with now."

    "I'll pee on it." Noah took the hat. "A few days and it'll be filled with pee. That'll show him. Prick."

    "Hey fill it with vomit instead. Like, coffee vomit. Now."

    "You shut up shut up shut up!" Noah threw the empty box at him and placed the top hat on his head. "Fuçk. I'll go show him."

    "Show him what."

    "I'll pee on it before his eyeballs . He better cry, the fuçk."

    Chester raised a hand after his friend, but he was already down the hallway.

    Now alone in the office, the man simply stared at the door that slowly creaked, having been hazardously open. Once he could no longer hear his friend's steps, he rounded the desk to check the number of coffee cups thrown about.

    He slowly ran a hand through his long curls, straightened his hunched back and got on calling 911.

————

    Noah was in the elevator standing straight up and clattering his teeth, the oversized hat covering half of his head. The doors slid close.

    Fifth floor and the doors slid open, revealing Noah sprawled on the floor, eyes wide and distant, the top hat bouncing out of the elevator.

    Morris stood tall in a mob of people, all waiting to cross the street but unable to because of the approaching ambulance. Morris was covering his ears, the siren far too loud and annoying.

    He glared at the passing vehicle and walked forwards, getting on the other side at which Victor's library was situated.

    Inside, the atmosphere was the same as always. Quiet, neat, boring, and Victor was the same as always: quiet, neat, boring. His button nose was nearly shoved into the book he was reading, hair covering his features.

    Morris stepped up to the desk and glanced at Lincoln bobble-head. Unable to resist the temptation, he poked it. Seconds later, he heard a faint gasp.

    "This is the second time you've come here dressed uncharacteristically."

    Morris sketched a smile and tapped the desk with his knuckles. "Can you get your cousin to take over for a little?"

    Victor looked at him without raising his eyebrows, then glanced aside, where his cousin was sorting some books, up on a ladder. He was in his thirties, but was the kind you'd welcome at a college party.

    Victor barely parted his lips and breathed out.

    "...Lloyd..."

    Morris himself barely heard the whisper, and yet the man's head snapped their way as though Victor had used a megaphone.

    Victor motioned him over and the man tiptoed down the ladder and made his way to them in a ghostly fashion.

    Morris shook his head. "Librarians, I swear."

    Naturally, two pairs of eyes turned on him.

"Shhh!"

———

    The cigarette tapped the ground lightly. Morris observed it with his head bent and took a moment to get over the happening.

    He took another cigarette from his pack. Very much like last time, Victor took it and let it drop.

    Now, Morris might've fixed his hair and fast forwarded a few eras concerning his suits, but deep down he was still a child. Hence, he only insisted, bringing out cigarette after cigarette and having them dropped, until Victor outright snatched the pack and crushed it under his heel.

    "That was expensive."

    "So are lungs."

    "Please." Morris rolled his eyes. "Stop acting like my mom. She has a hard enough time acting like a mom herself."

    Victor pursed his lips and scrunched up his nose. Morris shook his head and picked up an undamaged cigarette, lightning it up before leaning against the wall of the library, watching passing people.

    "So, what book may I interest you with today?"

    "Just let me-" Morris sighed, pinching his nose and trying to come up with something to say. Apologies were the worst, which is why he always relied on chocolate to make up for his social deeds.

    And he did come prepared.

    He fished out the bar of chocolate from his pocket and darted it to Victor's chest. The guy slammed a palm on it so that it wouldn't fall and chuckled, getting on tearing the wrapper.

    "You've always had a way with words."

    Morris turned his head towards him, offering a grin of relief. And there went Victor's biggest enigma: despite all the books he's read throughout his life, his face was nothing like 'an open book'. Ever so smooth and neutral, but a defined line under his eye suggested smiling.

    Morris chuckled and hooked and arm around his neck, shaking him. Victor bumped their hips together and munched on chocolate.

    And for the next entire hour, they sat on a low, wide bench and chatted, catching up with the things they've done over the weekend, discussing this, criticizing that, arguing and cracking jokes.

    All was nice and sappy, and then, in a very Hollywood manner, a car passed right by the sidewalk they were on. Its screech ruined the atmosphere like a broken record, and the vehicle reversed until it was standing right by them.

    Morris could see a furious Chester inside, his head bobbing like mini-Lincoln's as he struggled on rolling down the window (by a handle, it was an old car). His hair covered the flaring nose as he slid his head and one shoulder out the car.

    The defined jaw moved around and his cheeks went in. Morris knew what was coming, and halted away before the spit got to land on his shoes.

    "What the genuine fuck-a-duck?" Morris snapped.

    Chester pushed himself further out of the car, half of his torso now out. "Get in."

    "You're not Ken and I'm not Barbie." Morris said, at which Victor closed his eyes slowly.

    "Noah is in the hospital you prick."

    Morris's shoulders lowered as opposed to his back which went rigid. He could feel a pout take over his face, but only raised his eyebrows further, unable to respond.

    He let the cigarette fall from between his fingers and paced to the car mutedly. Once at the passenger door, he darted a helpless look at Victor.

    The man wiped chocolate off the corner of his lip and nodded slowly.

    Morris entered and slammed the door close. The side mirror fell off.

    After a dry gulp, he glanced at the driver. Chester had his elbow on the steering wheel, staring ahead, with Victor munching his chocolate on the background.

    A few moments of just silence and Chester turned the key with a rattle, starting the car, and with it his expression turned back to annoyance, no longer melancholic.

    Morris saw Victor's waving self slide leftwards as they advanced, Chester's hands clicking this and switching that every now and then.

    "What happened to Noah?"

    "A lightning struck him in the bellybutton." Chester announced loud and monotonous, arm raised for effect. Then, he rubbed his face tiredly, as though he wasn't quickly approaching a group of tiny kids crossing the street.

    Morris pressed his back to the seat, fiddling with his thumbs while trying to get himself distracted by the architecture around.

    "Why'd you take me?"

    "So that I drive right off a bridge."

    Clearly, conversation was out of the question, and so Morris only sunk further down the seat, hugging his unsettled stomach.

    "Brought everything I asked?"

    The inquiring doctor had his sleeves rolled up, glasses on his forehead and was wearing sandals. With socks.

    Morris was concerned for Noah.

    "Yes, it's here." Chester raised a paper bag. "He's here to visit." he nodded towards Morris.

    "Can I know what happened to him?"

    The doctor pursed his lips, stopping the sway of shoulders. He was humming some song just now.

    "Are you family?"

    "He's also a brother." Chester butted in.

    "Is that so. Three brothers? Impressive."

    Morris and Chester cocked their heads in unison.

    "Three?"

    The doctor pointed at the door next to them. Through the tiny window, Morris and Chester watched Noah play clap-game with some ruffled weirdo sitting by his bed.

    "That guy, however, had the identity act to prove it."

    Chester shook his head. "I know him. You let that nutcase in and not us?"

    The doctor peeked through the window as well. "Quite the nutcase indeed. I'd have a colleague in Psych take a look at him but I believe he's too far gone."

    He shook his head and straightened his back. "You can go, just not at once. He needs rest once he proceeds with the stuff." he poked the paper bag with a pen. "And then he's free to leave. I've already had a talk with him concerning pills and diet."

    "But what happened?" Morris asked through clenched teeth, still eying the two men as they clapped hands and sang, the noise muffled and distant but eerie as it was.

    Chester grasped his shoulder and tugged him around, while the doctor paced away.

    "He overdosed on coffee."

    His eyes, lowered at the corners naturally and even more so by sleep, stared at Morris as though he'd said 'You overdosed him with coffee'.

    "And yes it's your fault. But it doesn't end there." with that, he rattled the paper back violently. "You know what the doctor prescribed for Noah? It's right here. Can you guess what it is?"

    A shiver ran through Morris as he eyed the bag and imagined the possibilities. Dozen little bottles of pills against cancer? An inhaler? Insulin shots for diabetes? A spare arm??

    Morris was panicking.

    "Food."

    Morris was confused.

    Chester nodded tiredly. How could anger look so lazy?

    "He's an anorexic."

    Morris took another glance inside. "What? Based on what did the doctor assume that?"

    "He asked Noah what and when he eats."

    Morris paused.

    "Oh." he said, rubbing his jaw. "But he doesn't... seem like the kind to..."

    "It's not like that. Noah simply forgets to eat, he's stupid. Besides, the doctor said caffeine and nicotine do that to some people. It was all unintentional."

    Morris turned to look in the room once more. "He'll be fine, right?"

    "That's where you come in." Chester pushed the paper bag into Morris's chest, who caught it clumsily. "Feed him. He never listens to me."

    "Last time I checked he got in the hospital because of me?"

    "Exactly, so it's you who's getting him out."

    And that's how Morris found himself in Noah's room, with two pairs of eyes watching him from underneath two pairs of shadows.

    The brother looked quite literally like hobo version of Noah. His hair was a dark brown, so tangled that it seemed impenetrable, and his dark clothes were far from Noah's seemingly careless but impressive fashion. They were rags. His skin was normally, healthily pale and, to Morris's surprise, his dark circles beat Noah's.

    However, the brother appeared to be older by a few years and their facial features weren't similar. His nose was slimmer and pointing down, unlike Noah's which was raised almost like an alien's. His jaw, eyebrows and lips were more defined, more masculine than Noah's, and he looked overall... sick in the head.

    Especially when he stood up and hunched his back menacingly.

    "I'm Oasis. The all-seeing eye foresaw your shadow drench this very floor."

    ... Morris wanted to go home.

@shally13 was the first to guess that Oasis is Noah's brother! youuu enjoy this dedication.

And I'm so sorry for how slow things are going.. I can't promise anything, just ah... shit, this book had been on 34th place in Humor at some point. Way to take things for granted, me!

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