Chapter 34: Emergency Medical Treatment

Sebastian was lost in a daze on the sofa when his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID; it was an unknown number. He picked up.

"Hello, is this Mr. Sebastian?"

"Speaking."

"I'm from the Academic Affairs Office at Coastal College. I'd like to verify the situation regarding student Lucian. He has been on leave for a month now. According to regulations, if he does not return to school within a week, he will be processed as an automatic withdrawal."

Sebastian froze.

One month.

He remembered the day he blocked Lucian; it had been nearly three weeks since then.

"He hasn't been attending classes?"

"No, not at all. We cannot reach him personally, and your number is listed as his emergency contact. Do you know his current status?"

"I don't."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Well... if you do get in touch with him, please relay the message. He must return within a week, or he will have to face the consequences."

"Understood."

The call ended.

Sebastian gripped the phone, staring at the screen for a long time. Then he opened his messages, found the blacklist, and pulled Lucian out of it.

[Where are you?]

Send.

He waited ten seconds. No reply. He sent another.

[The school is looking for you. If you don't show up in a week, you'll be expelled.]

This time, the reply was instant.

[Lucian: I’ll be back tomorrow.]

Sebastian stared at those four words for three seconds. Then, he blocked Lucian again.

He didn't want to see him.

He didn't want to see his name, his messages, or remember anything related to him. He tossed the phone aside, leaned back on the sofa, and closed his eyes.

The sunlight outside was beautiful, but his heart was overcast.

...

The next morning.

Sebastian was still sleeping. He lay on his side, several pillows propped behind his back. This was a long-standing habit; for someone with a bad back, sleeping posture was vital. The pillows under his waist relieved pressure and allowed him a bit of comfort.

The curtains were drawn, leaving the room in shadows.

The door was pushed open softly. A figure entered, footsteps so light they were nearly silent. The person walked to the bedside and looked down at the sleeping man—at his face, the pillows, and the medical brace.

Slowly, the figure reached out and gently grasped Sebastian's hand.

Sebastian’s brow twitched. Then, his eyes snapped open.

In the dim light, a face was inches away.

He had lost weight.

Neither of them spoke.

Sebastian’s eyes widened, but what surged within them wasn't joy—it was rage.

"Get out."

His voice was raspy, but his tone was vicious.

"I..."

"Get out."

Sebastian tried to pull his hand back, but Lucian held on tight. He looked at Sebastian—at those eyes burning with fury and that face devoid of even a hint of a smile.

Suddenly, Lucian's own temper flared.

One month.

After taking so many beatings, lying in that run-down clinic, unable to sleep from the pain, he had been thinking of him.

None of the messages he sent were replied to; the social media post said it was "ended"; even when he was blocked, he was still thinking of him. He had finally made it back, stood before him, and held his hand.

And he told him to get out.

Lucian let go and stood up.

"Fine," he said. "I'm gone."

He turned and strode out. The door was pulled open and then slammed shut.

Bang.

Sebastian lay on the bed, staring at the door, half-dead with rage. He felt as though he couldn't catch his breath.

Gone. Truly gone. He just left like that.

He tried to brace himself to sit up, but the aching stiffness flooded his waist again. He slammed his hand against his own back in frustration, the pain so sharp he had to bite the duvet to keep from crying out.

He grabbed the pillow beside him, wanting to hurl it. But the door was already closed.

He held the pillow up for two seconds before slowly lowering it. He stuffed it back behind his waist, adjusted his posture, and lay back down. He stayed like that, staring at the ceiling, gasping for air.

He didn't know what was happening to him. He was motionless on the bed, yet his heart was pounding as if it wanted to leap out of his chest.

Thump, thump, thump—heavy and fast. His chest felt tight, and he couldn't get enough air. He breathed deeply, but the oxygen felt insufficient. His entire body began to shiver.

He tried to sit up, but his back had no strength. He wanted to call out for help, but his throat felt blocked.

Watching the ceiling, his vision began to darken in waves. He fought to stay conscious and fumbled for the phone on the nightstand. With trembling fingers, he dialed 911.

"I... I can't breathe..."

After giving his address in broken fragments, he tossed the phone aside and closed his eyes.

He didn't know how much time passed before the siren of an ambulance drifted in from the distance. It grew closer. Then the door was pushed open, and people rushed in.

"Sir! Sir! Can you hear me?"

Sebastian nodded.

An oxygen mask was pressed to his face, cold and hissing with air. He was lifted onto a stretcher and carried into the ambulance. Throughout the journey, voices whispered in his ear, asking for his name and where he felt unwell. He answered in fragments, his voice a raspy shadow of itself.

By the time they reached the hospital, he was drenched in sweat from the ordeal. The lights of the emergency room were blinding. He was wheeled in for exams, blood draws, and scans.

Finally, he was moved to a private ward. The nurse adjusted his oxygen and tucked him in.

"Sir, please give me the contact information for your family so I can notify them to come over."

Sebastian shook his head. "No need."

The nurse remained professional and continued to persuade him. "Are you alone? It’s best to have someone with you in your condition."

Sebastian closed his eyes. "No need."

The nurse watched him, let out a sigh, and softly closed the door as she left.

The ward fell silent. Sebastian lay on his side, a soft hospital pillow propped behind his waist, the oxygen mask hissing rhythmically. He stared out the window.

It was dark. Eventually, he slowly fell asleep.

...

Meanwhile, on the basketball court at Coastal College.

Lucian was dribbling, breaking through, jumping, and shooting. The ball hit the rim and bounced out. He cursed, picked it up, and shot again.

Chen stood by the side, watching him take shot after shot, finally unable to stay quiet.

"Hey, that's enough. If you keep going, do you even want to keep those hands?"

Lucian ignored him and kept shooting. After a dozen more, he finally stopped, plopping down on the ground, panting heavily.

Chen sat beside him and handed him a bottle of water.

"What's wrong? You come back and act like this?"

Lucian took the water and gulped down half the bottle. "Nothing."

Chen arched an eyebrow but said nothing. After a moment, he spoke up.

"Hey, let me tell you something."

Lucian didn't make a sound.

"The school is having a modeling competition in April," Chen said. "First prize is a hundred thousand."

Lucian turned his head. "A hundred thousand?"

"Yeah, a hundred thousand." Chen nodded. "If you go, we'll have our startup capital."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you." Chen looked him up and down. "With your build and your face, it's a waste if you don't go."

Lucian looked down at himself. He had lost some weight, but the foundation was still there. At 6'2" with broad shoulders and long legs, he was indeed the right material.

He lifted his head.

"Sign me up then," he said with a touch of his old cockiness. "With this body and this face... I am pretty great."

It's just a pity there are always people who are blind to it,

he thought.

Chen chuckled twice. "As long as you don't open your mouth," he said, "you're definitely 'male god' tier."

Lucian aimed a kick at him. "Piss off."

Chen laughed and dodged. After a moment, he grew serious. "You really going?"

Lucian thought for a bit. "Yeah."

Chen nodded. "Alright, then we’re in this together. I’ll sign you up; we’ll be a team."

"Sure."

———

In the hospital, Sebastian woke up once.

The ward was dark, save for a small nightlight in the corner. The oxygen mask was still on. He shifted; his back was still stiff, but it was better than before. He looked out the window.

The sun was about to rise. His body was still exhausted, so he closed his eyes again.

...

At dawn, a nurse came in for rounds.

"Mr. Sebastian, how are you feeling?"

The man on the bed nodded. "Much better."

The nurse checked the monitors and took his blood pressure.

"The indicators are back to normal. It was likely a stress response combined with extreme fatigue. Please rest well these next few days and don't overexert yourself."

Sebastian gave a soft "Mm."

The nurse walked to the door and turned back.

"Are you sure you don't want to contact your family?"

"No need."

The nurse left.