"I'm really sorry, Sir. I really don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry," I apologized in an attempt that he could forgive me.

He was glaring at me, band-aids decorating his face. The swelling on his face was enhanced by the blue eye. He looked like he had gotten into a bar fight.

I did apply healing cream on his face, but I guess that was not working. He was bruised. But it's not like he's the one who got hurt alone. My hands were all bandaged up. My knuckles were burning in pain. He said all of this was all my fault. If I hadn't attacked him like a feral animal, none of this would've happened. His face would've been perfect without a blemish and my hands would've been like they used to be.

"You know, if my father saw me like this, you're going to jail. He won't be so lenient on you."

"I know, I know. I said I'm sorry, Sir. If I wasn't sorry, I would've left you on the sidewalk to die. But I didn't. I didn't."

His glare was frying me. My apologies were flat. Even I could admit that. I went to the bathroom to relieve myself, leaving him alone.

It was in the evening now. I skipped work after lunch because of my actions. I couldn't leave Chance to be found half-conscious at the side of the road and be convicted of attempted murder. That would surely kill me.

So, I helped him back to my car, and drove to the nearest store to buy all the medical stuff I was going to need. After that, I drove to my place to care for him. I had cleaned his cuts with alcohol and salt water. Then I applied healing cream and put on band-aids. The swelling was not going down. It was scaring me because he said tomorrow, he's got a very important meeting. I did put ice on his bruises, but the swelling wouldn't go down.

He spent the whole afternoon laying on my couch, his eyes fixated on the flat screen TV. I didn't know if he was watching it or deep in thought.

"What would you like to eat?" I asked, standing on the doorway connected to the kitchen. He was staring at the TV like he's been doing all afternoon. He was starting to worry me. I thought he was thinking too much. Him thinking too much was not in my favor. What if he was reconsidering all of this? What if he wanted to have me arrested? Or better yet, fire me?

He tilted his head to look at me. I visibly flinched when I was exposed to his face. I would never get used to seeing him like this. The scowl he wore eased my worries a bit. I didn't even know why him scowling calmed me down. It must be the exhaustion.

"Just give me what you are going to eat," he said.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway.

"And what if I'm not eating?"

He raised a brow at that, to which he looked comical because of the band-aids and all the swelling. I held back the edge to laugh. It's like he was inflated and suddenly was like a balloon. Even though I was dying to tell him that, I just couldn't for the love of me.

"You're not eating? Why?" he asked, curiosity laced in his words.

"I'm just not hungry. Would you be fine if I made you macaroni and cheese?"

He shrugged in response and went back to watching TV.

I sighed in exhaustion and went into the kitchen to cook for him. I did a lot of thinking today and that made me tired. Sleep was on my mind, but I knew I couldn't fall asleep before I took Mr. Hughs back to his place.

After an hour of preparing his dinner, I finally finished and dished for him. I took his plate to the living room and placed it on the coffee table, together with the glass of juice. He grasped the plate and started eating.

"Look, I'm just going to take a nap. Please wake me up when you've finished so that I can take you to your place, okay?"

"Okay. Just don't fall asleep too deep."

I went to my bedroom and took off my shoes, placing them next to the door. I didn't close the door because I had a guest. I trusted him enough that he wouldn't steal from me. I mean, what would he steal? There was nothing he couldn't afford in this place. I didn't bother taking off my clothes because the events that took place today wore me down.

I laid down on my bed and closed my eyes, wishing to fall asleep. Sleep was not coming easy. I couldn't even fall asleep on my own anymore. I needed help to do that. But if I took the sleeping pills, I wouldn't be able to get up to drive Mr. Hughs back to his place.

My eyes were fluttering close, but my mind was still fully awake. When I was punching Mr. Hughs, my mind was clouded and vision blurred. I couldn't see what I was doing. The memory was blurred, like I was watching TV that had bad reception. He said he wouldn't go press charges, but that I owed him. He said I owed him a favor, a huge one at that.

Seeing that I could not fall asleep, I threw caution to wind. I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. I opened the cabinet and took out a bottle of zolpidem. I opened the bottle and took out two pills, as stated in the instructions. They were one of the new medications I was taking.

I opened the water in the washbasin and swallowed the pills with the water. I closed the tap and went back to my room. I could hear the TV in the living room. I wasn't sure if Mr. Hughs was watching it or not.

I laid on my bed and closed my eyes. Maybe I could just sleep a little. I will wake up before he leaves. Just for a few minutes. I'll just…

**********

"What the fuck!" I exclaimed in horror, the ice-cold water drenching me awake. I froze like a statue when the shirt I was wearing clung to my body, squinting really hard to see Mr. Hughs holding a bucket. It was empty as I suspected.

"What? You were not waking up. I tried to wake you last night, but you were out like a corpse. I had to sleep on your uncomfortable couch."

Was he whining?

"And what gave you the right to pour cold water on me? What if I had the flu?" I snapped in irritation. I took off my drenched shirt and tossed it on the floor. The cold nipped at my exposed skin like needles were pricking me. The swelling had gone down, but the colour on his face had darkened. It was purple-bluish. He could borrow a concealer from his lady friends to hide the bruises since he said he's got a meeting today.

"Hey, watch your tone when you speak to me. I took pictures of these bruises,"

He was smirking in satisfaction at my expression. Well, I didn't know what expression I made, but it was enough to boost his ego. Was this what had become of my life? Would I always live in constant fear of him threatening me at every move I make? Was he going to keep blackmailing me for as long as I shall live?

"What time is it anyway?" I asked him, trying to brush his threat off and getting out of bed. I picked up my wet shirt and put it in the laundry basket, then opened my wardrobe.

"It's time to go to work. I told you yesterday that I've got a very important meeting and," he paused, his eyes digging a hole at my exposed back. I could feel it because I felt uncomfortable at being exposed like that. "I've got a question for you," he said. I heard the bed squeak as he sat down on it. I momentarily froze, stiffening because I had a pretty good idea what his question was about. I knew it had to do with me sleeping.

"Ask away," I replied, searching for a suitable shirt to go along with the pants I picked out.

"Are you doing drugs?"

His question took me by surprise. Me? Drugs? I may overdose on sleeping pills and anti-depressants and take unprescribed medication, but I would never, ever do drugs. I know these pills I take are also drugs, but I would never do drugs drugs.

"Was that your question?" I asked him, taking out the blue shirt and laying it on the bed. If he hadn't seen my hesitation at his question, then I didn't know.

"Yes. So, are you doing drugs, Mr. Jones?"

I finished picking out my tie, then gave him my utmost attention. I stared him in the eye, his emeralds threatening to drown me in their abyss.

"Why are you asking, Mr. Hughs?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation and crossed his arms. "I don't know. It's just that it's abnormal for a person to sleep like you did. And giv-"

"Are you insinuating that I'm abnormal, Mr. Hughs?" I interrupted him.

Surprise was evident in his eyes. They were wide like saucers. "What? No! Never. I was asking out of concern,"

That actually made me chuckle. Him? Concerned about me? Not in a million years.

I grabbed my clothes and prepared to go shower. I usually leave them in my room and come back to wear them in here. Since I had an unexpected guest, that was not an option. I couldn't be seen parading in my birthday suit like an uncivilized person.

"Hey, you never replied to my question!" he yelled when I was getting out the door.

I turned around to look at him, then replied, "No. I don't do drugs. I take zolpidem to help me sleep better at night." Then I went to the bathroom and locked the door. You never know what goes on in people's minds.

I turned on the shower and took off my clothes. When I made sure that the water was warm, I got under the shower and scrubbed myself clean, washing away all the previous day's events.

In under thirty minutes, I had finished putting on my clothes. Mr. Hughs went to shower after me, and I prepared breakfast for us. Today I was feeling slightly under the weather. It was to be expected because the chemist who sold me the medication said there were going to be side effects for the first few days.

I wished that I wouldn't go to work today because I was tired. Even though I had slept like a 'corpse', as Mr. Hughs said, the fatigue was to be expected. I borrowed him my shirt that fit him and a pair of pants.

I finished preparing breakfast for us and settled down on the island to eat. Mr. Hughs was taking too long to shower. Didn't he know that he was raising the water bill? Oh, I forgot. He practically grows money on trees.

Even though we seemed to spend a lot of time together, Mr. Hughs and I didn't really know each other. We were just two people living in different worlds. He was like the prince, and I was the pauper. He had more control and status than I did.

I finished eating my breakfast and stood up to do my dishes. At least I didn't pour him coffee, otherwise it would've been cold. It was Friday today, yet it felt like a Monday. I was still sceptical about Mr. Hughs not firing me. I felt like he was planning something. Something to do with me.

What the hell is taking him so long? I need to take my medication for God's sake! Time was really not on our side. I had to drive him back to his place so that he could wear his clothes for the meeting. Plus, he needed to see a doctor for his face. It needed medical attention.

I finally got tired of waiting for him and decided to check on him. Maybe he'd drowned in the shower, or he slipped, fell and hit his head. That would surely not be in my favor. That would be life sentence.

I knocked on the bathroom door three times. The shower was off because there was no sound. I knocked again when he didn't reply.

"I'm coming in," I warned before trying the doorknob. It was open to my surprise. I would never shower in somebody else's house with the bathroom door unlocked. I opened the door and proceeded into the room. His dirty clothes were on the floor, scattered.

"Oh, hey. I didn't see you there."

His voice had me scared out of my skin. It was lazy and devoid of any emotions, like it was sucked out of him.

"What are you doing there?" I asked him. He was sitting on the toilet sit shirtless. The thing that killed me was how he was staring at me. He stared at me like I was a lost cause. Like he was staring at a walking corpse.

He chuckled humorlessly, his gaze never faltering. "Do you remember I asked you if you took drugs?" he asked me.

I nodded in hesitation, wondering what he was coming up with. What is he planning?

"And you said no, right?"

I nodded, again.

"Are you doing drugs, Mr. Jones?"

"What are you on about? Stop beating about the bush!" I exclaimed in exasperation.

He shrugged nonchalantly and pursed his lips. "Nothing. Just wondering what's in your cabinet since you don't do drugs, you know."

"What's in my cabi- oh... that..." The cabinet was wide open, all sorts of bottles in full display. A cold chill ran down my spine, making me shiver.

"Yes. That."