I blinked in surprise at the white walls and the beeping sound. Confusion was all that clouded me at being in an unfamiliar room. Where was I?

I tried to raise my left arm from the soft mattress, but it was heavy. There was something heavy, like a weight had been added to it. I looked down at the white covers, then followed the trail of my arm to where a mop of black hair was.

A squeak escaped me, but I quickly swallowed it down because my throat was as dry as the Sahara Desert. I tried to collect saliva in my mouth to swallow, but it was like my saliva glands had dried up. Water. I needed water. But the head that's putting extra weight on my arm was keeping me down.

Who was this person?

The beeping noise was getting louder with the more awake I felt. I tried to sit up on the bed, but some things were keeping me down, like the headache on the left side of my head that had suddenly attacked me.

I raised my other arm and it budged. What had me shook was when I saw the wires that were connected to it. They were IVs. I felt sick to my stomach that I started panicking and jerked my arm to shake the person's head. The beeping noise became louder, drowning other sounds in the distance.

The sound of the door opening caught my attention. Two nurses were rushing to my side, checking my body. What was I doing in the hospital?

"Sir, please try to calm down. You are alright," the female nurse said on my right, feeling my temperature with the back of her hand.

My heart beat faster than ever, looking at the face of the nurse in alarm.

"I-I... Water," I managed to croak out, my throat burning. Just one single word had me feeling like I'm in hell fire.

She rushed to the corner of the room where a jar of water was placed on the table. She poured the water into a glass and put a straw in it. The other nurse was checking the IVs on my arms. The weight of the head on my arm was gone, Chance watching the whole ordeal with narrowed eyes. His hair was sticking all over the place and eyes red and puffy with black circles under them.

The nurse held the glass of water whilst I drank through the straw. Relief washed over me when I drank the glass empty. My throat was no longer dry, but replenished like a wetland.

"Hello, Jason. I'm Sonia and my colleague there is Maryse. How are you? Any pain you're feeling?" The nurse that brought me water asked, her smile reflecting her mood. She looked exhausted.

I shook my head, but quickly regretted it when my head hurt. My left arm shot up to clutch my head, massaging my temple.

"I see that one. We'll bring you painkillers after. Do you know why you are here, Jason?" she asked me. I looked to the other nurse who was busy jotting something down on a clipboard.

"I don't," I replied, my voice hoarse and groggy, just like Chance's when I called him that night. When was it?

My eyes shot to Chance. I was still trying not to cringe from the way he looked. I don't know what I did, but he was glaring at me. If looks could kill, I would die in the hospital.

"Anything you remember or..." the other nurse asked, staring at me with a raised brow. How many times should I tell them that I didn't remember a thing?

When I said no, her stare hardened, face morphing into an annoyed expression.

"Would you care maybe tell me what happened because I clearly can't remember by myself," I sassed her, matching her hardened stare.

She was taken aback, momentarily stunned at my tone.

"It's okay. I'll tell him everything that happened. Just bring the meds for him," Chance said, saving the day. The nurses left us alone.

The moment they stepped out the door, Chance crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me.

"What did I do now to deserve that glare?" I asked, irritation evident in my tone.

He cocked a brow in a disbelieving manner.

I sighed in exasperation and said, "I don't remember what happened. All I remember was last talking to you, but then you fell asleep."

"And? Is that all that happened, Mr. Jones? Is that all?"

There we go again with the last name thing! Why was he shouting at me? I'm in a freaking hospital bed, fighting for my life and he goes and shouts at me?

"You listen to me, moron. You don't come in here and talk to me like I'm some kid. You don't get to do that. If you don't like it, you can leave. There is the fucking door!" I pointed at the door, fuming in anger. He doesn't have the right to talk to me like that. Ever!

"Then how should I talk to you 'cause clearly you're acting like some spoilt brat! You need to grow up, Jason. Time isn't waiting for you! You can't just try to run away from your problems like a fucking bitch!" he yelled, his voice filled with anger and irritation.

"What did I damn do? Just tell me and stop beating around the bush!" I yelled back, my voice reverberating.

He threw his hands up, jabbing a finger at me. "You overdosed on sleeping meds! Did you think that you were going to sleep forever? You overdosed!"

What?

I stared at him wide-eyed. Me? Overdose on sleeping meds? That's highly impossible. Surely he didn't believe that I would try to commit suicide. Would he?

"Cat got your tongue? You can't yell at me now?" he asked, his voice mocking and bitter. He started pacing about in the room, saying things under his breath. And he seemed to be not saying nice things.

I didn't overdose on Zolpidem. I would never. "Chance, please hear me out."

At the sound of my voice, he stopped pacing and his head whipped to my side. Anger and frustration were swimming in his eyes.

"What?" His voice was sharp, sharper than a double-edged sword. I shivered, chills running down my spine.

He was waiting on me to say something. Words to say were on the tip of my tongue, but they wouldn't come out.

I just stared at him like a fish out of water. The silence was so thick you could slice it with a butcher knife.

"I..." I said, trying to release the words to form a coherent sentence.

"You what?"

I was speechless, feeling stupid and defeated.

He blinked. Once, twice, then thrice.

"You know what? I'm out of here. You're just an air-head," He ran his hand through his hair, then gave me one last stare, a chance to explain myself. That didn't happen. He turned around and headed for the door, grasped the doorknob and opened the door.

"Wait!" I called out when he had one foot out the door.

He froze, stopping, but not turning to look at me.

"I-I... I didn't overdose on my meds. I swear, Chance. I would never do that. I'm not suicidal, never was and never will be," I paused, taking a huge breath. That last part I said was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. I continued, “I remember what happened. When you fell asleep on the phone, I hung up and went to the bathroom to take my sleeping pills. I only took two, but then after a few seconds after taking them, I started to feel dizzy. That never once happened since I started taking them. They usually worked after five minutes. Then I sat down on the bathroom floor and that's when I lost consciousness. I didn't overdose."

Silence engulfed the room after I finished talking.

His voice surprised me when he talked. I didn't expect him to. "You know, Mr. Jones. I thought you were better than this. I thought you were stronger than you led on. Most of all, I thought you were a lot of things, but I didn't take you to be a liar," then he went out the door, leaving me to feel all kinds of negative emotions. He sounded disappointed.

I wasn't lying when I said that I didn't overdose. I didn't overdose on sleeping pills. I would be crazy to do that, especially when things were starting to look up for me. I had let Chance come into my life. I had let down my walls for him. Why would I risk it all and overdose? Why was it so hard for Chance to believe that? Why didn't he believe me?

I ran a hand down my face and sighed, snuggling into the covers that offered me comfort. Why was it so hard for him to believe me?

I hope Mom won't come because if she did and Chance happened to be around, she would tell everything. She would tell all my secrets and all my deepest desires. I hope she won’t come.