I'm in a good mood in particular today because Ning leaves me alone. The fact that my phone hasn't buzzed once since morning exhilarates me. I woke at eight to paint postcards downstairs, classical music playing, swinging my legs delightedly. I saw a note on the computer screen at the cashier counter stating Sorn and Mee went to Bangkok. The restaurant is peaceful, with only the sounds of the wind chime or birds chirping outside.

 

"Someone is in a freaking good mood," Tong taunts, spotting me humming as he descends the stairs, ruffling his hair.

 

"Jealous?"

 

"Nah. It's just annoying."

 

"Wow, you're asking for a fight."

 

"Is someone using the washing machine?"

 

"No. Tou hung his laundry, though. Don't put yours on his."

 

"That bastard? I'll hang my clothes on his and make them all musty."

 

"Why did you call him a bastard? Call his name."

 

"He's younger than me."

 

"But he's a fourth-year student. You're a junior. You should respect him."

 

"What? We entered the university in the same year."

 

"You chose to drop out to play Mario Neko. It was inevitable that your classmates went ahead of you."

 

"I can smack that four-eyed bastard's head. Why should I respect him?"

 

Ugh. I wish I could say he's all talk. When Tou is here, Tong doesn't dare to say a word. Even though they mind their own business, Tong and Tou are really close. They moved here around the same time, so they got close automatically. One is thoughtlessly foul-mouthed. One is quiet but sharp-tongued. They get along well.

 

"Where's Ket?" Tong asks for someone not present.

"In his room. Still not up, I think."

 

"I see. How is he these days? I barely get to talk to him."

 

"Good. He spaces out often, though. He keeps forgetting things and complaining about his headache. He basically sleeps all day." My words seem to get Tong thinking. He goes silent, saying no more, and disappears into the back area, leaving me confused by his strange mannerisms. What the hell?

 

"Oh, Kieng." Tong reappears all of a sudden, startling me as my brush touches the postcard.

 

"What?"

 

"Ask him about the Bangkok trip and see if he remembers it."

 

"Why?"

 

"Oh, just do it."

 

I don't understand what Tong means, but I'll try.

 

Ket comes down when it's almost noon. He walks down the stairs with his messy hair. The shirt is worn inside out, and the basketball shorts indicate that he hasn't gotten changed. I frown at the man heading to the back area, as if he doesn't notice me. I leave my work on the table to check on him.

 

I crane my head into the back area and find Tong sitting cross-legged in front of the washing machine while playing on his phone. Ket doesn't greet him, even though he's closer to Tong than everyone else in the residence. Ket walks to the hanging laundry, stares at it for a few moments, and turns around to get pills on the shelf Sorn recently built. If we're sick, we can find medicine here. Ket picks up a box of paracetamol and takes out six.

 

"Hey." I rush over and grasp Ket's arm before he drops the pills into his mouth. Ket jumps a little. He looks at me in silence. The second he sees me, it's like he doesn't know who I am. Soon, he smiles and props his hand on my hair, ruffling it.

 

"What? Your voice startled me."

 

"Why do you need that many? You're supposed to take two at a time."

"It's not enough to alleviate the pain."

 

"Are you okay, Ket?" asks Tong, noticing how unwell he is. Ket offers him a small smile.

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Taking a lot of pills won't help. You should take two periodically," someone says, entering the back area.

 

The fourth-year pharmacy student with a frown and dark circles behind the square-framed glasses he constantly removes and puts on. His style changes daily. Tou transfers his dry clothes into his basket.

 

"Is there anything stronger than paracetamol?" Ket asks Tou. I turn to Tong in confusion.

 

"Does your head hurt that bad, Ket?"

 

"Yeah. Sometimes I can't even sleep."

 

"Do you happen to understand this symptom?" I ask the future pharmacist. Tou gives me a not-so-useful answer.

 

"I study pharmacy, Kieng. I'm not a doctor."

Right.

 

"I can only examine initial symptoms. Like, did you lose your appetite? Do you sleep excessively? Are you dull? Do you have a migraine? Does it hurt all over your head?"

 

For the record, Ket doesn't eat much, sleeps all day, and is slightly inactive. I don't know about his headache, except that he sometimes falls down in pain.

 

Tou steps closer to Ket and studies his face quietly. I notice the dark circles have returned to the man who said he felt sleepy all the time and slept all day. He also suddenly stopped drinking coffee and started drinking blue soda, which was weird for a person who had been drinking several cups of coffee a day since he moved here.

 

"Are you stressed or suicidal?"

Tou's question shocks me. Ket shakes his head.

 

"Um...This could be an early symptom of depression. I think you have a migraine, too. You should see a doctor." The pharmacy student pats the tall guy on the shoulder.

 

"And this is my shirt." Tou pulls it from Ket's hand, tosses it into the basket, and leaves. Tong and I exchange glances. We frown at Ket's strange behaviour. He forgets even the clothes he wears every day?

 

"Ket."

 

"Hmm?" Ket responds, pouring the pills back into the box.

 

"Do you remember our Bangkok trip?"

 

As I wait for his answer, loads of questions pop up in my head. My worry slowly forms. His growing forgetfulness worries me. A man who disliked chocolate enjoyed it with such a contented face. That's not a good sign. The tall guy thinks.

 

"I do."

 

What a relief. I smirk at Tong. Damn, why would he tell me to ask such a thing? Why wouldn't Ket remember? That day.

 

"What did we do there, anyway?"

 

Ket's words are hundreds of needles piercing through my body. I hope he's joking.

 

"Are you kidding?"

 

My quivering voice seems to make Ket realise it. My eyes feel hot. Why did he say that? Why is he acting like he doesn't remember anything? Ket hesitates. He then places his hands on my shoulders and hugs me tightly.

 

"Why does it look like you're about to cry?"

 

"Will you quit joking?"

 

I speak in a muffled voice, wrapping my arms around his body, clutching his shirt, and tugging him closer.

"You remember, right?"

 

"Yeah. I remember."

 

"Don't joke like this again. It's not funny."

 

"Sorry."

 

The guy who has been observing the situation walks over and pats Ket on the shoulder.

 

"Why don't you go see the doctor?"

 

For a split second, Ket looks aggravated, so Tong doesn't press on.

 

"Take the pills and get some rest, then."

 

The atmosphere in the residence is depressing, as if shrouded by dark clouds. No one looks or speaks to each other. Only the sound of the washing machine working is audible. Tong sits back down and plays on his phone. Ket enters the restaurant and takes two paracetamol, no more than that, because I keep an eye on him. Then he returns to his room.

 

"You okay?"

 

I follow Ket upstairs out of worry. I wish to take care of him more closely, but when Ket had a headache, he would build up his walls and write, 'Leave me alone,' in capital letters. I don't want Ket to be like that today. His symptoms are worse than ever. I can't let him be alone.

 

"Ket." He smiles a little. A forced, painful smile. Suddenly, Ket plops on the floor.

 

"Does it hurt again?"

 

"Yeah. My legs have no strength."

 

"Let's go to my room."I support Ket's body and lead him to my room. I take him to my bed and arrange my pillow so he can lie down comfortably. His pale face shows he's unwell. I touch his forehead with the back of my hand.

 

His temperature is normal. No fever. His body, however, is colder than usual. I'm worried.

 

"You just took medicine. Let's see if it works. Will you go to the hospital if you don't feel better? Tong can take you there." Ket tugs my hand and kisses my palm. Drops of sweat on his forehead imply he's enduring it. The sight hurts my heart like crazy. Did Ket feel this way when I was sick?

 

"It's okay. I'll be fine after some rest."

 

"You sure?"

 

"Yeah. I want to be with you."

 

I sit on the mattress, fixing my eyes on the man I love and feel protective of. I brush a lock of hair off his face and stroke his chin. His stubble is getting long. He shouldn't leave it like this. He hasn't even done his laundry. I know since his shirt is inside out. The kiss mark on the fabric proves it's the same shirt he wore that day, though I have no clue if he didn't wash it because he wanted to keep it or simply forgot.

 

"Do you know you're wearing your shirt inside out?"

 

I lift Ket's shirt off, flip it inside out, and put it back on him.

 

"Kieng."

 

"Hmm?"

 

"Call Ning for me."

 

"She doesn't really pick up. Why?"

 

"Can you try, please?" Ket's plea convinces me to do it without asking. Maybe Ning knows what's wrong with him. He was fine a few days ago. Ning doesn't pick up any of my calls. I begin to get frustrated. Ket can't sleep. From the look of it, the headache is too unbearable for him to fall asleep, as he's pointed out.

 

The medicine still hasn't worked fifteen minutes later. Is it too painful to be healed by the pills? I look at the man shutting his eyes. Ket furrows his brow tightly. I don't know what to do. He refuses to go to the hospital or tell me what's wrong besides the headache. What should I do?

 

"You can't sleep?"

 

"Um."

 

"It still hurts?"

 

"Um."

 

His short response gets me anxious. I can't do anything but let him hold my hand.

Ket squeezes my hand for about an hour until he finally falls asleep. I lay my head on the mattress and gaze out the window at the sky, as gloomy as the atmosphere in my room.

 

If Ket has depression, I'll stay by his side until he recovers. Even if it's just a migraine, I'll look after him. I pray it's nothing serious. I hope it's just a headache from cumulative stress.

 

I hold Ket's hand and gently squeeze it. I hum my favourite song, but forget how it goes. This feeling is similar to having hundreds of rocks on my chest. It's tiresome, awful, and exhausting.  I haven't moved an inch for hours, staring at his steadily heaving chest. I slowly close my eyes, emotionally and physically drained, and drift off.

 

I check the time on the nightstand clock. It's 5 pm. The sun begins to set. I shift slightly. The softness against my back shows I somehow got on the bed. I glance around, searching for the person who's supposed to be by my side. Ket is gone. Did he go back to his room? Is he feeling better?

 

I reach for my phone from the headboard and find five missed calls from Ning. I call her anxiously and plan to check on Ket in his room. I halt when Ket walks out of the bathroom, looking like he's dipped his head in the water. His hair is soaked. The water dripping on the floor shocks me.

 

"Ket."

 

I call his name as he approaches me. Ning picks up my phone right then. I'm about to tell her off for not answering my calls. What if it's something urgent?

 

"Why didn't you pick up the…"

 

The man in front of me collapses before I finish the sentence. My eyes widen. It looks like he drops face-first in slow motion.

 

"Ket!" I shout, throwing my phone onto the bed. I lunge forward and catch him before he hits the floor. My eyes are brimming with tears because Ket has fainted. I swiftly yank my pillow and slide it under his head before opening the door and shouting Tong's name. Both Tong and Tou show up in alarm.

 

"Hey, Ket fainted!"

 

Tong reaches my room first, followed by Tou. They carry Ket downstairs without wasting a second despite his weight. I rush after them with my phone. While Tong calls a taxi, I put my phone to my ear again, still sobbing in shock.

 

[Kieng! What happened to Ket?]

 

"Ning, hic, Ket fell. Huu, he fell right in front of me."

 

[Calm down.]

 

"N...hu.Ning, Ket fainted. Hu.."

 

[He didn't hit his head, right?]

 

"N..No...l caught him in time. Hic."

 

[ls anyone home?]

 

"T..Tong..hic...We're taking him to the hospital. Hu.."

 

[I'll see you at the hospital. Don't cry.] Ning hangs up.

 

I follow Tong as he puts Ket into the taxi and tells Tou to watch the restaurant. Tong sits shotgun, leaving me with the unconscious man in the backseat. Had I been a second later, Ket would've hit his head. I caught him in time because he was walking toward me.

 

Ket's head is on my lap. His wet hair sticks to his pale face. I don't care if my pants are drenched with water. I place my hand on the left side of his chest. The weakly beating heart under his broad chest assures me he's alive. I move my hand up to his nose. He's still breathing, but I'm not relieved in the slightest. My ears are ringing from all the crying. I cradle Ket in my arms and rest my forehead against the unconscious man's.

 

Be safe.

Be safe, okay?

Please.

Be safe.