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“Daniel?”
Daniel looked up. Standing before him was the most beautiful stranger he had ever seen. Unfortunately, that stranger was also wearing a white coat with a tag that said “doctor” on it, so he wasn’t in much of a position to make a move at the moment.
“That’s me,” he said, voice raspy from disuse and years of abusing his vocal cords in one way or another.
“My name is Armand.”
“Dr Armand?”
“Just Armand is fine. My last name is often a bit hard for some to pronounce.”
Daniel looked at the handsome doctor, Armand, and felt he was up to the challenge. But again, lying in a hospital bed in a johnny with no underwear on wasn’t exactly a shining moment for him. Kinda killed the vibe for cruising.
“So Daniel,” the handsome doctor continued, “do you know why you’re here?”
“I’m guessing the coke wasn’t just coke.”
“Correct,” Armand said, and now there was a hint of something steely in his gaze. Daniel felt chastened immediately.
“I didn’t know,” he said lamely.
“Perhaps this could be a wake up call for you,” Armand said, voice still serious but expression less cold. “I’m sure there are people who care for you that would hate to see you come to harm.”
Daniel snorted. “Not really. But noted.”
Armand tilted his head, searching Daniel’s face for something. It made his skin feel itchy but he also felt a trill of pleasure course through him at being under Armand’s gaze. Amber irises ringed the black pupils that seemed dilated. But perhaps it was a trick of the fluorescent light.
“All the same,” Armand said. “I would rather not see you end up here again. Think of it as a personal favor to me.”
Daniel licked his lips. “What do I get in return?”
“To live. You get to live, Daniel.”
He decided to press his luck, feeling reckless. “But then I wouldn’t get to see you again. And I gotta be honest, doc, I kinda like talking to you.” And looking at you, he thought.
Armand considered him for a moment. “You were never meant to see me, Daniel. Let it be enough. Get off the drugs, get clean, live your life. Go report important stories. Get married, have a child, grow old, and die a boring, average, mortal death. That’s what you’re supposed to do. That’s what you get in return.”
“Seems like a shitty trade off to me,” Daniel grumbled petulantly.
Armand smiled, sadness in it. “It’s not. Now rest.”
When Daniel awoke, he was alone in his room save for the nurse removing the IV from his arm.
“Do you have anyone to pick you up, dear?” she asked.
“No,” Daniel said, the word catching in his parched throat. “Not yet.”
He dressed in the clothes he’d come in in and checked the pockets of his jeans for any spare change for the bus. He froze when his hand brushed against a wad of cash in his front pocket.
Slowly pulling it out, his eyes went wide. Two, three, four, five hundred dollars. Jesus. Daniel couldn’t remember the last time he had so much in his possession at once. He might be able to rent a better room somewhere he wasn’t constantly tempted to snort, shoot, or smoke his way back into this hospital room.
He paused, considering the handsome doctor who he’d met there, then shook his head. He couldn’t offer much like this, on such unequal footing in the state he was in, but maybe if he did clean up his act and met the man again in a context where he wasn’t his patient, maybe he could buy him a drink. Maybe he could take him out to dinner. Maybe he could bring him home.
Daniel smiled, trucking out of the room with his messenger bag slung across his body and the aftertaste of yesterday’s high on his tongue. He hadn’t felt this driven in a long time. It was a little insane, to feel changed by someone he hardly knew, but Daniel had great instincts, and they were telling him this story wasn’t over yet. He was still in the first act. He had time. He would grow.
He stepped out into the sunlight, ready to face the day.