People rushed in and out of the hospital. Some of them absorbed in their own chatters brushing against Brandon’s shoulder as he stood close to the entrance. But he didn't move further away from it, as the old man in front of him was a disease that he needs to avoid.

Dean, who was standing in front of a black van, kept waving at them enthusiastically, beckoning them to come, but Brandon, who was wearing a sour expression, ignored it and turned to the side before walking away from the place.

“Isn’t he someone you know?” Cherry asked as she looked back at the old man who never stopped waving.

“Nah, I’m sure that he means a different Brandon.”

He pushed the wheelchair and narrowly squeezed it between the bustling passing people, earning their frustration, and Cherry shrunk away under their grudging gaze.

“Yoo-hoo Brandon!” Dean called out again, his sight never leaving them.

“He seems to look at you, though?” Cherry pointed out.

Brandon hummed. “I’m sure that those sunglasses that he’s wearing is blocking his sight. He must be looking in the wrong direction-”

BUZZ…

The phone in Brandon’s trousers went off and Brandon froze before grumbling out some profanities when he heard Dean’s grating, jovial voice again.

“Brandon! Aren’t you going to pick up the phone?”

“Do you have an excuse for this one, too?” Cherry questioned with a small smile, feeling pity for Brandon as she could tell that Brandon didn’t like the old man, but had no choice but to interact with him.

Brandon sigh in resignation and turned around with slumped shoulders, before waltzing to where Dean was standing, grumbling in a defeated voice, “No.” As they moved closer to an impending headache, he looked down at Cherry. “He’s a person with whom I work closely with. He talks a lot of nonsense, so take the things that he says with a grain of salt, okay?”

Cherry nodded her head, wondering to herself how bad the old man could be.

But as the distance shortened and the old man came closer in view slowly towering over her as Brandon pushed her a disquietness that she couldn’t place sprouted deep within her chest, slowly spreading out like a wave of currents that made her body shake with tremor.

Once she was at the point where she had to crane her head back, the flight response in her body was at its peak and if it wasn’t for her immobilized leg, she would have bolted right there and then. Her confused mind and terrified body disconnected from each other, leaving her helpless and speechless. Her mouth gaping like a fish while her chest rose and lowered, fighting to keep breathing and not to scream.

“Brandon!” Dean engulfed the unwilling Brandon in a tight hug, burying his face in Brandon’s neck and rubbing his nose in it. Ignoring the displeasure on Brandon’s face and finally releasing him from the torturous hug, he said with a passive smile. “I’ve truly missed you the past few days. Why do I have the feeling that you’re ignoring me on purpose more often now?”

Brandon tried hard to school an indifferent expression, but the vein that throbbed in his neck from his grinding jaw was about to explode. He had no time to indulge in the old man’s charades.

“You must be here to get yourself checked for Alzheimer, because I don’t remember ever ignoring you.” Brandon commented, cocking his head to the side as he wore an innocent smile. The smile on Dean’s face didn’t reach the bottom of his eyes. He shortened the distance between them with a long, imposing stride, placing his hand on Brandon’s shoulder as he inclined closer. Close enough for his words to only reach Brandon’s ears. “Then tell me why you haven’t done your work for the past few days.” The hand that rested on Brandon’s shoulder took a firmer hold- a warning sign.

Brandon didn’t quail under the pressure instead it flared his irritation. He exasperated, “Why are you here, Dean?”

Returning Brandon his personal space, Dean took a step back. Brandon couldn’t see it, but he knew that behind those sunglasses the old man was blinking obtuse. “Why?” Dean reiterated dramatically, placing his hand on his chest as if Brandon’s words hit a sensitive string. “Obviously, I would come to my close colleague’s aid. I’m here to gift you this van, as I’m sure that it would be helpful. Also,” The glacial blue eyes dropped to Cherry whose face seemed to be drained from every color. Resting his hands on his knees, he lowered himself until he stood eye to eye with the shivering Cherry.

“I came to see if what I’ve had heard was true and indeed it seems to be true. I wouldn’t understand otherwise how she could stomach to be around you.” His words aimed at Brandon, but his scrutinizing gaze never left Cherry. Using his index finger, he tapped on the side of his sunglasses as he remarked, “Were matching.”

Cherry was sure that the old man meant nothing with it. He just commented that they wore the same sunglasses, but the thought of sharing any form of resemblance with that man drove a revulsion that tightened the skin, rising the goosebumps on it. She snatched the sunglasses from her face. Revealing the deep brown eyes that got angst pooling in them. The skin between her brows puckered as her mind unconsciously tried to crack the identity of the old man in front of her.

“Oh?” Dean’s eyes widen as he caught the apprehensive look in Cherry’s eyes. “It seems like your little princess doesn’t like me. I wonder why.” Dean mused as he tipped his head back to look at Brandon. Brandon let out a heavy sigh meant to shimmer down the irritation bubbling up in his throat. Using his hand, he nudged Dean’s forehead, pushing his face away from Cherry.

“That just means she knows what danger stranger means. We’re leaving.”

“Didn’t you hear me when I said that I was gifting you this van?”

“I don’t want it. There is a van waiting for us already.”

“I’ve already sent that van away.”

“Why would you-!”

“You shouldn’t be acting up so much in front of your delicate wife. What if your words are going to trigger something in her? We don’t want that, do we?” This got Brandon to swallow his words back, the knuckles on his hands turning white as his grip steeled on the handles of the wheelchair. “When someone gifts you something, take it without questioning it.” Dean took a hold of Brandon’s hand and shoved the keys to the van in it, but Brandon kept his fingers stiff, refusing to let them coil around the keys. Dean snorts at Brandon’s measle attempt at rebellion before catching the brown globes that kept alternating between him and Brandon incredulously.

He offered her a smile, and Cherry stilled under it.

“Don’t worry, miss Graywood, nothing will happen since you’re not the one driving.” His words were as bracing as a slap in a face, drawing out a pained gasp from Cherry as her hands held the small casket closer to her chest. Her expression became crest fallen as her jaw set, her shoulders quivering from an emotion that was as icy as the wind pinching her skin, chilling her heart.

A smirk filled with triumph found its way on Dean’s face as he commented. “Your wife seems to be cold. You better hurry and take her inside.” The blue eyes behind the glasses turned crescent as they rose to watch the inhibited anger residing behind Brandon’s eyes, resembling logs of wood ensnared in fire as he was unable to launch himself at the old man in front of hundreds of unwanted eyes. Especially not in front of Cherry. He tightened his grip on the keys, dismissing how its ridges punctured his skin, and guided Cherry in the van.

Cherry was stolen of any words as Brandon fastened the seatbelt around her. Her mind was no longer with him. Her attention somewhere lost that sucked away the embers from her eyes as she let her body being put in place like a lifeless doll.

Brandon strides in wordless anger to the driver's seat, slamming the door close. He threw one last glance at Dean. The old man had his hand up, waving them goodbye. Brandon sparked the vehicle and drove off. Silence reigned in the van until the hospital couldn’t be seen anymore in the rearview mirror. Cherry’s voice was the first to tear through the stale air.

“Your colleague is a peculiar man.” She sat in a fetal position, her back facing Brandon as she cast her eyes outside the window, watching how the tall buildings shortened over time until fields filled with green stalks shrouded her vision.

Brandon knew how Dean’s words were festering in Cherry’s mind, turning her into a soft-spoken person. “Remember what I told you? Take his words with a grain of salt.”

“Is he your friend?”

“No.” Brandon answered adamantly. “Absolutely not and you won’t have to see him anymore after this, okay? How about you take a nap? It’s going to be a long drive.”

Those words were enough to turn her already droopy eyelids heavy. “Don’t we live in the city?” She commented, drowsiness lacing her voice.

Brandon hummed, “We moved last month.”

“Oh” was the only thing Cherry could usher out of her lips along with a yawn before sleep consumed her.

Her soft rhythmical breathing filled the car and eased the tension in Brandon’s body. Giving her a side-glance, making sure that she was asleep, he exhaled before raking through his hair, frustrated.

The brows that crashed against each other angrily gave no sign of easing down as Brandon dragged the palm of his hand down his face until it rested on his mouth. His mind pondering about something that deepened the creases on his forehead before stepping harder on the gas pedal.

Many thickets later, he stops at a gas station. From his side he heard Cherry stirring in her sleep and his heart stuttered, fearing that she was waking up, but she only turned on her other side facing him, before snuggling against her seat and exhaling back into her dream world.

The corner of Brandon’s lips curled up as he ushered in a whisper, “Cute.” He then unbuckled himself from his seat, stepped out of the van and went down on his knees, the loose debris rubbing against his knees as he looked under the van with his palms pressed against the concrete ground. The muscle in his jaw tightened when he found the tracker device latched on the rod of the van.

As expected, he thought before ripping the small device away. Pushing himself off the ground, he stared at the red dot, blinking reverently. He knew Dean was planning something, and that plan involves figuring out where Brandon would take Cherry as he suspected Brandon wouldn’t be taking Cherry back home.

“But.” Brandon’s hand clenches around the tracker, a vicious smile spreading across his lips. “It’s a pity that he wouldn’t ever find out. None of them will.” He was about to crush the equipment in his hand when he hears a car pulling up. The owner of it stepping out and trudging off to the convenience store. Watching the retreating figure, a twinkle of mischievousness appeared in Brandon’s coppery eyes.

Minutes later, the driver returns with some snacks in his hands and drives in to the horizon, not realizing that something was tagged under his car. Brandon, who watched inside the van how one of Dean’s toys disappeared out of eyesight, wore a satisfying grin as he spoke. “This will keep that old fool busy.”