CHAPTER 8
4568, A GOOD BOY ROOM
The east building is a chaotic and also peaceful area. There are many cases in the inpatient building, and it's jam-packed. The nurses are running around, using trolleys back and forth in the hall, but it's also very quiet, so we don't interrupt the patients. My uniform is light blue, unlike the usual staff; they wear a dark blue uniform color, and I have to put the name tag with the word 'volunteer' under my name. This morning, I had to run my eyes through the bullet points and learn which duties I had to follow: assisting the nurse, monitoring and reporting, keeping the ward clean and tidy, changing the wound dressings, and maintaining inventory. Of course, under my senior's eyes—the beautiful and prudent nurse who is my supervisor, she is my commander.
As I walk after her, Tina, passing room 4568, the VIP room, I glance at the name,
"Vanderbilt." Shockingly, I say out loud, "It's Vik."
"Oh, yes. Mr. Vanderbilt's son. You must know him," She says,
"A bit," I say,
"He just woke up last night, poor boy," she says,
"Was the accident that bad?" I ask,
"When he was taken here—pretty messed up." She says,
"Has anyone visited him yet?" I ask,
"Mr. Vanderbilt doesn't allow visitors; only specific staff are allowed." She explains and turns to me, "I informed his parents—but he hasn't come in yet." She says,
I nod.
It's another night at the Apollon Hospital, and the inpatient building is busier than usual. Tina is on duty, cleaning wounds and examining a few new patients. I have to stock and maintain the inventory by myself, prepare the medicine, and double-check before I give it to other nurses.
"Hey, Letizia," Tina runs to me quietly with her 2-inch heels with no sound—impressive. "Can you go check room 4568 for me?"
4568 is Vik's room.
"Is it VIP?" I ask,
"Yes, you are allowed." She says,
"Yes?" I'm confused.
"Because I say so, please. You know him anyway; just check his monitoring, and that's it." She says, and I say nothing, but my face must show her my concern, "It's my command." She teases me because I call her my commander.
I sigh lightly, "Yes, ma'am." I smirk at her, and she quickly runs away.
Pushing the 4568 room's door, holding my breath and exhaling as I walk in, holding the report that I have to note down, for example, he's still alive. Vik is on his bed; his leg is hanging, resting on the biggest pillow. His face is on the other side; he's sleeping. I approach him and look at the monitor.
"How is your feeling?" I ask,
He sighs noticeably, "What do you think?" He feels irritated, and he irritates me.
"It seems you're fine," I say, and then he quickly turns to face me. His eyes widen, his whole face is stunned, and he loses his words.
I raise my eyebrow at him, and he quickly turns his face away from me.
"What—what are you doing here?" He says lightly,
"If you turn back, you'll know." I say as I look at the monitor carefully, "Your heart rate is rising," I say.
He bites his lip and turns to me slowly. I glance at him a little as he observes me, the whole body. "You're working here?" He asks,
"Temporary," I say,
"You shouldn't be here, " he says, and I look at him. His swollen eyes seem cured. The bruise, which was supposed to be purple, is now green and fading to yellow.
"I'm allowed inside your room for tonight," I explain, and I write the note in the report. I turn to him and try my best not to look at him in a pity way, and then I touch his index finger, which is attached to the Fingertip Pulse Oximeter* (A pulse oximeter is a small, lightweight device used to monitor the amount of oxygen carried in the body.)
"I mean here—with me, " he says softly. I look at him and wonder, "Your boyfriend is not going to like it," he says as he looks me in the eyes.
He looks soft and harmless.
"You probably won't drink and drive ever again," I say,
"Why do you say that—ha—right, that's what he told people." He says, shifting his eyes to the empty space; the highest price of the room, given the vast area and high service and quality, but it's nothing to him. It's just giving him an empty loneliness space.
"He?" I ask, and he chuckles on his own, but the smile is not willingly shown.
Is he talking about his father?
He looks at me and touches my fingers before I pull my hand back.
"You have no idea what he's capable of." He says, "You deserve better—better than me—better than that mother fucker."
Now, I really am not sure who he is talking about—his father, Tytas, or even the helmet guy. And it seems to me that the car accident is not just a car accident anymore.
"Now my life is ruined. I'm not blaming you anymore, princess." He glances at me. "Like you said—it's my consequence, but it's the highest price I've ever gotten."
I say nothing; I just listen to him quietly.
He holds my hand, "Can you forgive me?" He asks while he stares into my eyes, but I can't force my mouth to open, "If not—at least just—listen to what I'm trying to say." I nod slowly and let him hold my hand. I don't know why. "Every fucking word that I told you that day—it was the truth—it's true." he gulps. "I was stupid—if I was brave enough—admitted—that I had feelings for you, and if I wasn't playing around—I might have you," and he pauses, his eyes are lightly full of water, reflecting, "You might consider me—as a normal, passionate guy—who fell for you."
I gasp, and my hand is starting to feel the pulses.
"I still—like you, princess," He says and giggles to himself as if he doesn't believe his own behavior, "I don't know—that I still have a chance for that, well, I'm fucked up, and I really don't fucking know—will I ever be walking again."
I look at his legs—both legs wearing casts.
"You will," I say.
"Heh, I really want to believe that." He says, "But—do I have a chance?" He looks at me and asks.
"Chance, yes. At least you gotta try." I say,
"I mean with you." He says,
And I slowly pull my hand back, "I'm with Tytas." I say.
I look back at him as he tries to calm himself—energy not to rise up.
"I should have—shot my shot with you first, and now—you belong to him." He says and looks at the ceiling.
"I belong to no one—Vik, you guys need to stop seeing girls as property," I say bluntly.
"I know, princess—-you are not property to me, even I acted that way to you," he says, and my eyes soften. "But for him—I cannot say the same way," He glances at me. "He might treat you right—graciously even, but—you don't see everything behind that charming prince he puts. Trust me, if he sees you with me right now, I—" Then he stops, "Huh, that mother fucker." he murmurs.
I silently listen to him.
They, indeed, aren't friends anymore.
"I wish you would never know everything—so you won't get hurt. But honestly, I wish you to know every fucking side of him, every secret door and hidden thoughts, then you will know he doesn't deserve you."
He says as if Tytas is the monster.
"Break up with him," he says,
"What?" I'm shocked.
"If you are the one who says it—-he will do nothing more than just—let you go," He says passionately.
"Ha—" I shake my head, deeply confused. I might get what the helmet guy is coming from, partly from Zygmunt and precisely not even one percent from Vik.
"You don't love him—I know you don't." He keeps saying, and his voice rises as he tries to get up and sit correctly. "If you really loved him, you would be with him a long time ago,"
I'm a bit shocked. "Vik—why everybody wants me to—" I mumble, and I think he can catch that.
"Everybody fucking right—Letizia, I couldn't be with you before, but now at least I can save you, I'm not a prince and he isn't."
"I don't fucking understand, Vik. Can you tell me the truth? or—I don't know, just tell me—what are you trying to say?"
"Ha, I—I'm trying, but—if I say—I might not be," He pauses and leans awkwardly to me, "breathing." He says as he looks at me.
He looks scared.
"It wasn't—an accident, right?" I speak lightly, and his eyes keep staring intensely inside mine, trying to tell me something, "Vik—tell me, who did this to you? And save me from who?" I look at him "Tytas?" I wait for his answer, but his face slightest nods to me, "That is impossible—he's—he's so good to me, and respects me—and why you gotta save me from him—I feel safe with him,"
"Are you sure? He's more dangerous than you think. Don't let the front act fool you." He's frustrated.
"If you mean the secret collection he has—I know that," I say,
"What!?" he's stunned, "He took you there?" He asks,
"Yes," I say,
"And you're fine with it?" He asks as his eyebrows are tucking together.
"It's just a hobby—people have different interests, but it doesn't mean that person is bad," I say,
"Even he knew what had happened to you, and he still took you there, Letizia," he growls. He is about to get up, but I stop him first.
"What are you doing!? Stop." I say and try to push him to lean back to the bed.
He grabs my hands, "Does it tell you how crucial he is!?" He's getting upset, and I am starting to get upset.
"Stop," I say,
"He knew, Letizia—He fucking knows." he says, and I stare at him, "and you—are fine with it." he lightly lowers his voice, "Hmpt, I can't fucking believe it."
I take my hands back and lower my sight, and I suddenly feel uneasy. Tytas kissed me and touched me in that room, and I allowed him to do that.
"He knows your weakness and played it with you, and you allowed him—you fucking love him, Letizia? What about me? I would never—and I can treat you just like him—cherish you—and be better—I was ready to do that,"
"Vik—you haven't done that to me,"
He looks at me and grabs my hands again, "You are okay with him after he did that—and why not me?"
"You tried to rape me, Vik." I'm about to step back, but he pulls me into him, "Vik—stop,"
He locks my neck with his right hand, "I did that because I was in love—and obsessed with you, more than you think." He says I gasp, "I did it because of fucking love! and that mother fucker took you to see all that—and you accept everything about him—ha—hehe, that isn't fair, is it?" He grins,
The old Vik is coming back—and I feel so conflicted and very messed up in my nerves and in my brain at this moment. Every word from him makes me question myself and try so hard to rationalize my actions and my behavior. Fuck.
I don't know.
"I am ready now, princess," he whispers as his forehead rests on mine; his right hand is on the back of my neck, and his left hand, with a saline line on the back, holds my hands tightly. "If you forgive and accept who he is, then why not me? I'm ready now—I will do anything to set you free from him,"
"What…" I say,
His grips are more substantial, and he pulls me in to kiss me. He kisses me carelessly about his injury or his broken legs. He sticks his tongue inside my mouth and kisses me insanely.
"Ha—VIk," I swift my face away against his grip on my neck.
"If you don't trust me what he's capable of—-I'll fucking show you." He says, and takes a breath, "And let's see, will you be able to fucking accept him—entirely." He purses his lips and is about to put his lips on mine again,
"Vik, please," I say,
"You don't love him, I can tell—but you do all of these—it makes me wonder, princess. What exactly does your heart want? And what is your purpose? Or you're not as smart as I think you are—a fool—for any love."
I gasp again and look into his eyes.
I'm frustrated and hurt. I push him harder, but he doesn't let the pain control him.
"Then, be a fool for me," He softens his voice and kisses me slowly; his motion is more deeply intense out of emotion that I haven't felt from him before, "because I'm a fool for you too," he whispers.