Ming

I used to think that the future was synonymous with progression. We would be happier, decent, and prosperous. However, what we had experienced was a regression. We had a very heated discussion about this before we marched on the street, about the why's and the how's. Jun phrased it 'the Sanctified Marriage Act was formed in response to seeking restoration of glorified past. A state we once used to be'.

Six months before the amendment, the outbreak happened. A viral infection infected those who could not produce the sex hormone. So, it was highly contagious for children who hadn't had puberty and menopause women. They called it Purity Virus. How could they name something deadly like that Purity? That was fucked up beyond my comprehension.

In a fortnight virus killed the vast majority of kids and elder females in our country. People carried face masks in the funerals, streets full of gurneys. And there would be this health police on every corner, spot checking for fever. The sound of weeping and loud lamentation for the deaths were heard through the nation. Every sector of jurisdiction was crippled, the wheel of the economy had stopped, currency depleting. I've lost two baby cousins, seven minor nephews, nieces, and an aunt. They were distant relatives but still, I was mortified.

However, the reactions that followed the frightful disease were not foreseen. I was volunteering at a local cremation ceremony when I met several people with a wooden box and megaphone shouted out their message to people going about their day. The fundamentalists and extremists began to converse outcries about sins, hell, cosmic karma, and all the cringing epithets.

The idea yearning of repentance arose in the form of grasping for the past. First, the government attempted to withhold federal funding from clinics that provided abortion services then weeks later the abortion and contraception were being outlawed. Afterward, The Sanctified Marriage Act amendment was proposed and ratified.

Personal freedom had fallen dramatically. Prostitutes, homosexual, political dissidents, supporters of abortion were forced to rehabilitate in order to retain traditional value, the traditional value of family, a father, a mother, and children. They thought that moral degradation created the infection. And the rehabilitation was the foundation to rebuild a better society.

On the brink of political crisis, P'Pha, P'Forth and I shared the same worries. P'Pha saw it coming when he had his bank account frozen. One Saturday in June, we planned to escape and P'Pha suggested we should go separate ways. He and Ai'Wayo went to North, P'Forth, and P'Beam went to East and I and P'Kit should go to West. The area where hosted major dams and mining in the country.

Years later, Ai Yo and P'Pha told me over a dinner that they hid in the trunk of their car while a man called Mr. C drove them to a secluded mountainous area with the highland full of indigenous peoples. They lived with them farming opium until the Uprising was decimated. P'Beam and P'Forth never told me the details of their running away attempt. However, their car did veer off the road and they ended up in a small town. They rested in the camp of the revolts.

P'Forth helped to procure weapons from the outside country border and P'Beam aided the injured protesters brought to the camp. The day when thousands of students marched in a protest against the new laws to the city center Square was the day I was supposed to pick Kit up. He said he needed to say farewell to his family before leaving with me. I waited for more than 3 hours. I watched the demonstration directed their anger towards the government, were roughly fended by the pro-establishment. Most of the pros were the grieving parents and family.

The protest turned into violence, the police used machine guns against the crowds. The pros fled, the anti-establishment suffered some serious setbacks. I was able to escape by hiding in a narrow shop. From my hideout, I witnessed the situation became critical when unidentified gunmen had kidnapped the resistance leader and his comrades. In retaliation, some members of the Uprising group blocked the main road. I was panicked because my calls couldn't get through Kit's phone. My dire fear was if Kit got abducted on the way coming to our meeting place.

I decided to go to Kit's home. Under the duress of the riot, I reached my car and started the engine. Hoping the street would be clear enough for me to proceed my journey. It was a 2 hours drive. On the road, my car was spotted by a patrol. Shortly after, I ran from the military dressed men pursuing me. My car crashed into the side of the pavement. I got mild concussion soon I was taken captive by the armed forces.

I was in prison for more than a week. I was convicted without going to the court or being sentenced by the judges. They placed me in the solitary confinement with the intention to question me. They held me in isolation from others, except guards at least 22 hours a day. I was deprived of meaningful contacts and external stimuli. I wasn't tortured but it was like hell to me, being with my own thoughts. I constantly had the imagery of my family, my friends, and Kit. I had nightmares they wounded him before they killed him. Sometimes the dreams were so real until I had difficulty to grasp the reality.

Finally, when I was on the verge of insanity, my dad paid the bail money. However little did I know, I got double red-flagged as a political dissident and a homosexual. I didn't know if liking men would automatize me as the new opposition to the law. Yet, I had always known where my political view stance was. And I would not apologize for it.

For almost three weeks, I had no idea whether Kit was alive or not. My family insisted me to rest in bed, I told them I would be crazy if I saw a blanket and pillow any longer. That night, I silently tiptoed off my room, leaving the door ajar, sneaked out the house. On my way, I saw a number of groups were railing to the center of the city got captured and beaten. Fucking beasts, the Monarch, and military forces were supposed to protect the people not mistreated them.

I parked my car on the empty lot, waiting till the dawn before I took off. This time I arrived at my designated destination, Kit's house. The sun already rose but it was still dark and cold like midnight. I was exhausted, I should've had dinner last night. His house was vacated, deserted. I broke the window and let myself in. I landed on the icy floor. I smelt dust and mold, the moving creatures here were a pile of cockroaches, hanging spiders on its webs. I went to Kit's bedroom, organized but all his things in it were covered in the white linen.

Clearly, they planned to leave and would come back. He would come back. He would come back. The realization hit like a stricken thunder. He left, he left me, without warning, without goodbyes. Fled away with his family. I was betrayed, abandoned, forsaken. At least, he was alive. He was alive. I wept quietly on his bedroom floor. The room where he agreed to be my boyfriend which apparently it meant nothing to him. I lied there, my chest weighted down my body, I felt sore, fatigued, puzzled. The sun shone through the glasses window, beaming at me it was so warm compared to the air of the room.

Learning that fact, I clung the hope that Kit was still breathing. That gave me peace of mind, even though my heart was shattered into pieces. I could only return to my family. Because where else, I should go to now? I drove home like a zombie, lifeless, purposeless. I couldn't care anymore if they captured me or threw me in the confinement again. On the way, the street was empty, It no longer held a vibrant of civilization. I still could hear the mourning chanting from afar. I was mourning too. I've lost someone I held dear in my life.

Later the government forces solidified their grip on anti-establishment. They scrutinized supplies and people entering and exiting the area. They became more aggressive towards the revolts. Bombs, blasts, armored vehicles, fellow protesters were hit by birdshot fire, those were ordinary sights in the next couple months. I wouldn't stay hidden in my house, I went out there and directed my anger out the open.

After a year and half of Uprising, the anti-establishment or the stamped rebels had truces with the government forces. In exchange, the government restored electricity and water services. In two months, life returned to relative normalcy it meant clashes were rare, no daily violence, the teenager could return to schools, and employees and university students could commute to the capital.

Despite the truces, the red-flaggers became the unexpected target of a government campaign to pressure rebels. The red-flaggers were subjugated as the outcasts. Even my extended family wanted nothing to do with me, the false friends gone, inherited vetoed. We gradually were systematized into marginalized people in society. There had been documented various attacks against us which the federal police ignored, if not they conspired with it.

The hardest part was, no one would hire us. Job adverts often pointed out that 'no red flagger need to apply.' As the community subject of prejudice, we were not likely to follow the rules of society. We comprehensively rejected them. We retained an amazing knack to profit from the black market. So it was hardly surprising that economic crime was associated with the red flagged, theft being the most common.

After my mother died and father disowned me. My life derailed to the lowest point. I started to learn how to steal to survive. As a thief, I worked for wealthier thieves. I learned how to code, program and hack from Kwang. I used to get loosest deals by selling, trading, purchasing, swindling, smuggling, bidding, forging goods and documents. I provided service getting whatever the consumers wanted. A part of me knew what I did was obvious self-destruction.

My life was bleak, the only desolation I felt. I got nothing left to fight for. I maintained a presentable existence superficially, surviving. When the euthanasia decree was authorized, I applied my name in the system. Painless euthanasia was being advertised for several reasons including compassion, reducing suffering, and cost-effectiveness. They wanted to build a new healthy society, therefore, people with hereditary, such as schizophrenia, autoimmune diseases, cleft palate, heart disease, and intellectual disability could request assisted suicide. Later the administration suggested that the program should be extended to people with physical disabilities but they didn't get really outspoken about it.

Though it was still on the first-trimester trial, the procedures were fully observed. The request must be made earnestly and with full conviction. However, patients had no absolute right to euthanasia and doctors had no absolute duty to perform it. They granted my request in the second week of September. The next Monday, I found myself in a secure waiting room of a psychiatric hospital. I was sitting in the waiting room glaring at the posters on the wall. I found them distasteful and dull. I didn't feel comfortable in them like how they were meant to function.

The floor was slate gray made of brick stone. This building was historical, maybe there were hundred crazy ghosts here died while having electroshock therapy Above the ceiling was from polystyrene, hanging the brightest lights in the hall. They hurt my eyes, I wonder if I would meet such a light on the other side.

I was having mild migraines when someone with a white coat approaching me. It was P'Beam. He was the one who would do my assignment. I didn't expect that. He wore an incredulous smile as he escorted me into the room. He was carrying a screen of my medical chart. His office was very minimalist. However I really liked it, it was comfortable, nice, clean, warm and inviting.

There were personal touches, white stripes pillowcases, diplomas hanging on the wall and framed photos. My ear pinged when I looked at a group photo of P'Beam, P'Forth, P'Pha, Ai'Yo, and Kit. It was nailed on the center of the room. Their graduation day, the Doctors wore black robe smiling widely at the camera, P'Pha and Yo were wearing a coordinating color of shirts. I was the one who took the picture. I averted my gaze from the frame. P'Beam stood there observing my behavior before he gestured me to sit on the cushioned chair.

"You are breaking my heart, Nong Ming." He took a seat opposite me.

I looked at his expression, sadness, disappointment. I let him down in a big way.

"Oh, P'Beam, I didn't know you worked for the government! Are you gonna asses me now? Should I call you Doctor?" I chimed cheerfully.

"You went AWOL after the incident. Got all of us worried. Especially, Nong Yo." He folded his arms in scolding position.

"I left because I didn't want to be a burden." I stopped I knew it was not a good excuse but I decided to be chipper to deflect the topic. "Anyway, I thought they won't allow the former of anti-establishment to work in the public service."

"That was the time when you needed us the most but you decided to flee." He paused, contemplating. Yes, fleeing away from people he said he cared about, like someone.

P'Beam bit his lips because he knew he wouldn't get a response from me. I clearly didn't want to talk about what already happened. He continued, "I only got yellow flagged because I aided protesters medical help. I told them it was my duty as a graduated doctor. It was Forth who got the red-flag. He was stupid enough to get captured when transporting weapons."

"How about P'Pha and Ai'Yo? You heard from them?" I asked the worst thing about isolating myself was, I forgot I once had a best friend.

"Don't you know? They came back from their little exile. A week ago. Of course, their records are squeaky clean. Besides, N'Yo got his papa to pay the authority." P'Beam smiled wide, showing his white teeth.

"Really? That's good. It's really good. I wish I get to meet them." My voice rang out, tinged with a certain excitement.

"I'll tell them to visit," P'Beam said and typed a reminder on his screen.

"What do you mean?" I watched him closely. I didn't expect this. A visitation?

"Oh, I admitted you in. I referred you as having chronic depression, and you are in the midst of a severe depressive episode. Probably the manifestation of Post-traumatic stress disorder, but that diagnosis needs further assessment. I cannot grant you to be part of the program. To voluntary active euthanasia, you have to be mentally healthy." P'Beam explained but his eyes were on his chart, typing.

"What kinda healthy person wants to die?" I sighed in exasperation, "So are you saying I am being rehabilitated instead? I didn't expect you became a government crony, P'Beam. You know I cannot change who I am."

P'Beam stopped typing. There was a lump in his throat, he exhaled heavily, "MingKwan... I don't want you to change. Or doing anything resembling altering your personality. I am on your side, okay?" He took a very deep breath before continued saying,

"I know this is very hard for you. But can you hang on? Don't give up? Not yet. Things will be better. I promise. You need to keep fighting. Like you did once when Uprising happened."

"At least back then I had the purpose to fight. Now, I've lost it. It's difficult for me to grapple the sense of living, Doctor Beam." I emphasized his name if he wanted this to be a therapy session then let it be.

"You'll find the purpose, the meaning eventually." He hesitated, for a moment I saw he glanced at the group photo on the wall unconsciously before he retreated telling me, "It's okay to be a little frivolous to ask N'Yo a favor? You got double red-flags here. I was troubled when I saw your name on the system. I decided to meet you in person. I didn't know your situation has been this bad."

"I did try to hack the system. But my file is redacted. No matter how many times I've tried, I couldn't access the main data. I don't think even Yo's papa money can save my ass. I already accepted my fate. If this is what it is." I told him, I laughed at my self. I've been accepted my worst luck. Ever since he left, nothing good came to me.

"There is gotta be a way. There is. Just be strong. We'll help." P'Beam said as he gripped my good hand, full on sympathy before he demanded, "Meanwhile focus on your recovery. Attend the 12-appointment programs, take your medicine. Listens to consultants. Listen to me. I will personally supervise your development."

You really didn't need to, I wanted to tell him that. But knowing P'Beam, he would probably pressure me to comply. So I just nodded, obeying. Though all bitterness suddenly ascended in me. I stood up, he moved and hugged me, so tightly. It had been a long time since I had sincere and meaningful human contact.

Before he sent me to my sectioned room, I asked him one last question,

"P' do you know how is P'Kit now by any chance?"

"He is okay as far as I am concerned. He continued his study to get a board-certified Doctor of Neurology. But we haven't been in communication yet." He said as he was not certain to tell me the truth. A tangible wave of longing hit me whenever I said or thought of him. I remembered the smell of his skin, his touches, his kisses. A fucking traitor.

"P'Beam, will you promise me as a friend. Please, don't mention my name to him the next time you contact him. Don't tell him about my condition. Don't tell him about the incident." I pledged, I intended to get on my knees if he wouldn't abide by my request.

"But, N'Ming..."

"Please, please... please. You gotta promise. Or I gotta report you breaking patient-doctor confidentiality. You tell P'Forth too." I persistently begged and I felt a little bit guilty threatened him like that.

"Fine, but you have to promise me too to do your best to recover." He receded. "Yes. Yes. Sure." I vowed. That I could do.

Traditionally, we didn't talk about mental health issues and we didn't tend to deal with it. However, after the malicious infections and the aftermath Uprising, people grieved in the worst possible way and also. They now tried to do some improvement in the mental health sectors.

My days in the clinic filled with all manner of therapy; art, music, cognitive, group talk or psychodrama. I kept my words to try, at least to function and become productive again. P'Beam did take care of me. I had a clean room, a cabinet and a desk with chair. They were not fancy but I accepted it as a form of gratitude. I was surprised by its peaceful ambiance when I first got here. The hospital site was beautiful and tranquil. There were trees lurking on the side of the building. I tried my best to progress. I endured the dull life here. Walking in the park, writing a daily journal and reading a lot of books.

Next to my room was a patient who liked to bang her door and then sing the national anthem after. Of course, the majority of the patients here were the grieving parents who had difficulties to deal with their losses. I remembered this one sunny day of the afternoon, the siren began blaring throughout the hospital. There was a lady who had psychological breakdown screaming, claiming the doll she held was her dead child. She knocked down two nurses, they were bled, lying on the floor unconscious.

I watched the scene in horror but I had to intervene. I prompted the lady to calm down and tried to talk to her not to hurt anybody. The guards and two guys arrived arresting her. I never heard or saw her again. P'Beam said she got transferred to the hospital city as she became more dangerous and they needed more people to handle her.

At first, P'Beam refused to be my psychiatrist but I only could trust him and open up to him. He knew exactly what happened, I felt understood. In our sessions, he rarely took a side or validated my feelings. He was very professional and focused on how I should get through the mental issues.

"How did it make you feel when you realized Kit was not there?" He never addressed Kit his friend in our session. For Doctor Beam, Kit in my story was my ex-boyfriend and our relationship ended abruptly.

"I felt betrayed and abandoned," I told him, as I watched the ceiling, something was dripping. Creating brown nasty spots. This sofa was really comfy.

"And what have you been doing to cope with it?" P'Beam asked. I was confusing his role as a friend for a moment. I pondered, I must've told him the truth if I wanted to get out from here.

"I've been reading about the greatest betrayals in history. They all ended up dead." I gave him an empty smile.

"Really? Tell me about it." P'Beam said adjusting his recording and started typing.

"Oh, you know Doctor. The classic Shakespeare, 'Et Tu Brutus? Well, then fall Caesar... in the Julius Caesar play. Judas Iscariot, in the bible. Yes, I read the bible just for those verses. Peter Pettigrew, in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I cannot believe I didn't read that series when I was younger. And also Gollum in the Lord of the Rings. That ugly creature, lure Frodo into the lair of a giant, Hobbit-eating spider." I explained enthusiastically, as I made a fist.

"How do you think those stories help you?" Doctor Beam asked again without looking at my face.

"Mmmmm... I tried to understand why the traitors do what they do. Brutus was Caesar's closest friend, but he viciously stabbed Caesar to death. Brutus loved Caesar but he loved the Roman Republic more. He thought it was justified that Caesar had to die because Caesar would eventually dismantle the Roman Republic." I took a deep breath before I proceeded my thought,

"And Judas, it does not make sense that he was only motivated by greed, 30 pieces of silver are not a huge amount to betray the son of God. I think Judas never believed Jesus to be God. He never used the title the 'Lord' to address him like other disciples, Judas called him 'Rabbi' instead which means Judas only acknowledges Jesus as a mere teacher." I looked at Doctor Beam and found his eyes drilled into me.

"How do you think that applies to your situation?" He asked.

"Kit might've loved me but he loves his family, his future more. Or he never loved me at all. Never believed he did. We were together for 3 years just out of convenience. He only said he loved me once. In the restaurant, years ago. And never again." I said, a wavelength of misery riding in me.

"That's not true. You know that's not true." Doctor Beam cut his own sentence, "I am so sorry. I am not supposed to say that." He murmured.

The room was filled with tormented silence.

"What will you do if you meet Kit one day." He said after clearing his throat.

"I have recurring dreams about him. In my dreams, I shouted, I yelled. I pushed him. I stabbed him with the pointy object I cannot remember what. I think it was a big dagger. I bashed his head to the concrete floor. I blamed him for everything that happened to me." I stopped, I gazed at him. Cold expression, still typing. "So to answer your question Doctor, maybe sweet revenge would do."

"You want revenge?" he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes. I want him to suffer like I do." I told him with bold confidence. I saw P'Beam cringed but he tried his best to keep his composure. He was really good at being a psychiatrist. Not letting his emotion clouded him.

"Tell me then... Are you ready to talk about the Valentine incident?" He said, and I could feel he changed the new sheet of note.

"No," I responded.

Ai'Wayo came to visit the next day afternoon. I didn't realize he and P'Pha were standing there watching me gazing at the bright blue sky. P'Pha softly called my name and I came back to reality. The sheer happiness flooded me when I saw their faces. It had been too long.

"Yo!" I opened my arms for a hug. Ai'Yo welcomed them and held me tightly. He embraced for a long time it seemed. I just let P'Pha remained quiet watching us. Ai'Yo then slumped to my lap. Crying, sobbing almost hysterically. How could I let this cute creature in tears like this? I patted his shoulder, tousled his hair.

"Hey, don't be dramatic. You are such a crying baby." I soothed him.

"But...But..." Ai'Yo broke out, bawling his eyes out.

"What is done is done. Nothing you can do." I said, watching him sniffling his runny nose.

P'Pha came closer, offered his handkerchief. He knew Ai'Yo would react like this. I took the piece of cloth and used it to wipe the mess on Ai'Yo's face. He looked younger like this, healthier too. The complete opposite of my state.

I sensed Pha's hand on the back of my neck, rubbing gently before he asked, "How are you holding up?"

"Ugh, struggling. Keep switching my medication. Having the worst side effect but no improvement. I am on Sertraline now. Hoping this one would work." I told him.

"No matter what. We will be there for you. Yo cooked something today." P'Pha signaled to Yo who was still on my lap.

"I heard the news, I knew what happened but I didn't expect it would be this worse." Yo continued crying bitterly.

"Hey, hey just stop. I am okay now. Let me eat your food. I am fucking starving."

Wayo quickly grabbed his back and took a package of a box, giving it to me. I opened it, I couldn't help myself but shriek in horror, "What is this shit?"

"We've gone vegan. Try it. It's really healthy." Yo said scooping a spoonful greenish thing into my mouth. I pushed it away.

"Vegan my ass. You still love P'Pha's meat and you call your self a vegan? Just because you lived with the indigenous people does not mean you have to eat grass. Get your hipster ass out of my sight. I want real food." I sulked in annoyance. "Come on. I did this especially for you. Eat it. For your cute Wayo?"

P'Pha raised his eyebrow and told me "He thought he was enlightened. Something awakened his natural sensing. He even refused to eat pizza."

"No kidding? Refusing pizza? That's not enlightened. That's a complete mistake." I argued.

"Please, na...na...na," Yo begged I couldn't resist. I ended up swallowing his bile of food.

"What are you planning to do after you recover," P'Pha asked.

"Find a girl who is crazy enough to marry me. I must obey the law, I've been a rebel for too long. Maybe I should adjust with the system. And that was my mom last wish so at least I have the decency to grant it." I thoughtfully explained to both of them.

Wayo dropped the cutlery on the floor, it created a high-pitched sound. He trembled, "Your mom... your mom died...?"

I and Pha saw it coming, that Yo would weep again. His eyes were reddish and he bit his lips tightly. I stood up and hugged him, stopped him before he tore up. P'Pha also hugged both of us from behind.

Six months after that visitation, Wayo married a girl from Burma. She was a lesbian and older than him. His father found her, she was the daughter of his business partner. It was a perfect arrangement. Wayo's marriage served primarily as a means of abiding the law, preserving power, forge alliances, and produce legitimate heirs. If only.

They never consummated their wedding night because I saw Wayo sneaking into P'Pha's bedroom that night. Pha on the other hand, he swore he would never do such a thing, he said it's against his principle but he supported Ai'Yo wholeheartedly. He was standing there when the bride and groom pronounced the false vows, Pha's hands were clenching, teeth grinding. However, he managed to keep his calm. I've been in battle and riots but I never witnessed someone as strong as Pha like that day.

P'Beam and P'Forth, they had a completely opposite story. They renewed their vows in a secret ceremony. It was like they gave a big 'fuck you government' statement. The room lit by lanterns and candles, with 50 loved ones facing each other in two semicircles. Solemn celebration with happy faces on the happiest day. I couldn't help but feel harrowing jealousy in my chest.

A year later, when we had a barbecue lunch. P'Beam was sent a link to a live streaming video, it was Kit on his wedding day. They crowded the device and together congratulated him. At glance, I saw he was dressed in white with a pink brooch on the side of his chest smiling brightly into the camera, greeting them. I moved to the kitchen, looking for beers. But I wanted something callous, strong enough so I would lose my inhibition immediately.

I scoured P'Pha's secret dash, I found a bottle of Absinthe stood proudly on the highest shelf. I read the label it was made with wormwood bark with contained 72% alcohol. This savage drink would knock me unconscious. I was gonna take this liquid home.

"That will damage your liver." Pha was standing near the kitchen counter, looking at me dearly. Wayo followed him, reading the situation give me wry eyes.

"I am stealing this," I told them, I knew that beverage was expensive as fuck.

"Ming..." Ai'yo whined. Pha gestured Yo to come to me, to persuade me. He obliged, like a good spouse he was. Yo slid into the room, reaching out my hand and dragged me out the kitchen. I was still holding the bottle. They didn't take it out of my grasp. I guess it was mine.

Wayo and I were sitting in their swimming pool. Sometimes I envied they had this luxury while I only had a small house with a small bedroom. We talked for hours about our childhood, happy memories, stupid memories. As I kept sipping the bottle.

"Ming... Will you stop?" Wayo touched my bottle, his eyes filled with concern.

"Can't a man have a drink? I am heartbroken here." I let out hysterical giggles.

And once I began, I couldn't stop. I laughed uncontrollably until I gasped for fresh air. Tears trickling down my face.

"Damn it! It hurts. I didn't know it will be this painful. But it does hurt. It's been years since he left, but still." I sobbed, fumbling and mumbling.

"I know... I know..." Yo caressed my back earnestly. He would say something but he was not good with words and he couldn't pretend he was. However, having him beside me was enough. Even he couldn't mend my ruptured heart. I suddenly remembered the ring I asked someone to forge for me in the past before.

Four years later...

Last night, I was there when the brawl began. A really drunk man ordered a drink, being obnoxious shouting, making snide remarks about how he would whup every Redflaggers in the room. He looked at us with stink eyes apparent he knew our statuses. He must be marine because who would have access to our personal data except for government officials and my gut said he was marine. He went to the other end of the bar and punched Cole right off his stool. Complete chaos erupted, four other guys jumped trying to break off the fight.

Everything stopped and turned into slow motion. We called the police but no one would help us and Cole was lying on the floor, unconscious. When the police arrived, they charged us with disturbance. Of course, it was our fault. Fuckers. I took Cole home, told the wife what happened, and assisted Cole into bed when I left him, Cole was having difficulties to breathe and looked like he was in so much pain.

The next morning the wife called me that Cole was getting worse. However, we were both short on e-money, we only had cash and it was hard to have a transaction with cash nowadays. Even in Bangkok, cash was already illegal. We didn't have healthcare and enough e-money, almost every hospital we went to, refused to take us. So we drove two hours city to city wishing we still had our lucky stars.

My first plan was going to unregistered clinic or black hospital if this hospital rejected us. I was glad they would take our cash. Redflaggers like us didn't have personalized medicine which involves using information in treatment decisions. To get this personalized medicine, we had to apply healthcare included our steady incomes, family background and, of course, our history.

The computer-generated system would organize all the details of the healthcare database, analyzing their records and automatically responding to doctors' notes and prescriptions. Hospitals would always have ERs for severe trauma because they were places for people who were very sick and needed intensive care. We were relieved the ER welcomed us even with stink eyes when we told them we could only pay with cash money.

Interestingly enough, this small city had a pretty advanced hospital. It was a new building, this was one of the hospital chains owned by a diversified conglomerate in the country. They planned to manufacture modern hospitals within two years in response to increasing demand for healthcare services.

It was a slow weekday evening. We didn't have to sit in the waiting room for too long. Though the human nurse shushed some of us and I was the one who was in charge to accompany the wife until the examination was done. For a new hospital, the atmosphere was completely different. Every surface was dustless. The nurses were calmly moving with a purposefulness from room to room.

The TV played quietly in the corner, an Ad about the exclusive room they offered, a bed with a canopy above housed electrical and technical components, even a noise–blocking system. The computer could be programmed for mood and light therapy and also serve as a screen to display clouds or the sky. It also featured a screen for entertainment, accessing whatever information the patient needs. That's bloody convenience something that only Royal Family could afford, I thought.

There were not many people here, I saw doctors, paramedics, nurses, screen clipboards, and cameras that recorded every movement in the hall. There were also robots controlled from a different location sliding in front of us. I heard screams and cries in low voices, almost undetected. I hated the hospital, the smell of pine cleaner and antiseptic. The metallic tang from stainless steel, it reminded me of when I was in admitted in a mental ward. Every day I ate oatmeal or bland chicken. The sheet was crisp and cold. It was the hollowest time of my life.

I could've dodged this, I am usually able to detect if someone reciprocated violence energy. I would avoid them before the things escalated quickly. Even with the officers, they liked to abuse their power. If I was provoked, I would apologize first, started to appeal their sense of humanity. One night, four in the morning, a Navy soldier, egged me. He wanted to pick a fight. I immediately stood up and said to him, 'Do you wanna dance?' And I started dancing with this guy. At the end of the night, he let me fuck him senseless. But not last night, last night my guard was down. I didn't expect things would intensify drastically like that.

The doctor opened the door, still wearing green scrubs. He had bloodshot eyes, fatigue under the glasses. He gave the wife an easy smile, like telling a dear friend, telling that her husband died. Cole died. That's what I heard but my attention was still on the doctor. That man I once recognized. He had slicked hair now, black-rimmed glasses. An odd mixture of emotions flickered in me, my friend just died and standing there, the traitor, the betrayal, my Judas.

Shit. I muttered under the breath. The warmth of my body quickly abandoned me, I was pale as I was seeing a ghost. A face I thought I hated, despised or resented but none of those emotions I was feeling in that moment. For me, he was still more beautiful than anything in this world. He grew to be a more mesmerizing man. No matter the distance or the time we were apart, my attraction to him remained constant, like the force of gravity, always pulling me in.

I once fantasized putting him in the darkest pit and adding shovels of dirt burying alive, wanting to hear his cries as he asked for my forgiveness when the rocks rain down on him. I punched him million times in my imagination, pushing him out the nearest window or hysterically shouting pent-up anger. I didn't feel the force to do all of that. Just being near him, seeing him again lightened me up inside. And he looked good, really good. Life nourished him. He dressed in a neutral color, prim and proper. A little bit tired, but I could see he was thriving.

For a brief second our gazes met, but he began to speak with Cole's wife again. I turned my back away, I didn't want him to recognize me. I didn't think he did. After a couple of minutes of conversation, I heard someone walking behind, it was the wife. She cried on my shoulder and I asked her to sit. My friend was on deathbed but I felt nothing for him. Not yet.

I escorted her out the waiting room so she could tell the bad news to her family, her relatives, and her friends. When I was on the sliding door, someone called my name. I stopped, I whispered to her to keep on walking,

"Ming." Said a familiar voice.

I turned to the source of the sound. Meeting his eyes, I warmly greeted him "Sawasdee krub, Doctor Kit. Long time no see. It has been, what 10 years?"

"Eleven."He said, his voice scarcely louder than falling leaves.

"Yes, eleven! Time flies by. Indeed. But who is counting?" Eleven years and twenty-four days since you left. I laughed wildly.

"I almost didn't realize it was you." I could feel his detachment in the situation. He was still in a state of disbelief that I was standing in front of him.

"It must be the beard?" I took a step towards him, breaking into his personal space. He recoiled, acting all scared like a little mouse.

"Yes, yes. It must be it." He murmured, jerking away from my stare.

"I am still as handsome as ever, right? Chicks dig beard like this nowadays." He was so vulnerable. It lit up the predatory instinct in me. I purposely got myself closed to him, nudged him, our skin touched. I was curious if it burnt.

He flinched back. Maybe it did burn. His voice was shaking when he asked, "The patient, was your acquaintance?"

"Yeah, a very good friend of mine," I told him the truth.

"I am sorry. He had Intracranial hemorrhage, ruptured skull." He paused, he was about to say more but something blocked his ability to talk.

Looking him speechless like this, I said, "I am sure you did your best."

Someone tapped my shoulder, it was the front desk attendant,

"Sir, I need your QR number."

"Didn't we say we pay with cash?" I argued.

"Yes, but still need your identification." She urged, holding the screen in front of me.

I took my Personal Device and let her scan it. It pinged, the three of us knew, it showed the notification that identified me as a Redflagger. I flicked my tongue but proceeded to put my hand on the screen. I was being scrutinized by Kit and the nurse.

"Sir, we need the ten of your fingerprints." She now became very rude, something about the tone she gave. She didn't think I was worth her time.

"The system doesn't know I only have five?" I sneered at her. I rolled my sleeve, I peeled off my leather glove, pointed her my prosthetic arm. It was an American military prosthesis, with a modular system, cased in turquoise silicone.

"Oh sorry, I didn't read that information." She blushed, embarrassed by her recent behavior, nodded to Kit and scurried away.

"Where were we?" I asked him, who was looking completely livid.

"What happened?" Kit finally opened his mouth.

"Oh, there was a brawl in the bar last night. Someone hit him because he was a Redflagger. I didn't expect he had a fatal concussion. "

"Not him, he is dead. You. What happened to you?" He narrowed his eye, his expression was unreadable.

"Wow that's a little bit cold, isn't it P'Kit? Even from you."

I adjusted my prosthetic arm, putting my glove on again. I knew he'd ask. He stared at me waiting for the answer, he was in a rage. Irritated. So I sighed and told him,

"The Valentine incident. You know. I was one of the rebels, I stood too close from the explosion. I lost my right arm above the elbow in the blast. They had to, you know, amputate it."

"Pha and Beam never told me" He stated. Kit's expression was still bitter.

"Told them not to" I convinced him it wasn't their fault.

"They should've" He barked back, his voice went up an octave.

"No, they should not. What happened to me got nothing to do with you anymore." I shut him down. I had no idea why he was so mad. His blood boiled up, I could see clearly the veins on his forehead. I was supposed to be the angry guy, he left. He betrayed me. I should've screamed and kicked him or make a scene.

But I was exhausted.

"Look, P'Kit I like to chat but my friend just died. They need me. Thank you for your hard work." I bowed ready to leave. But I got stopped, he gripped my good hand.

"Can I have your contact?"

"What?"

"You said you like to chat. Can we share contacts?" He laid hold of his Personal Device.

"I better not"

"Why not?"

"You really don't want to be associated with me. You saw I am a double Redflagger."

"I don't care." He hissed in determination before he begged, "Please..."

Just one word and I'm already tongue-tied. When he pleaded like this, I always wanted to comply with his wish. Always.

"Just make it private. Don't let anyone know you have my contact on your device."

Carefully, I passed him my Device, he hit the shutter button automatically both of us had on-screen notifications.

"If I knew, I would come back for you." He said, as his eyes followed me exiting the hall.

"You should've not left in the first place." I smiled weakly.

I told you this is gonna be full of angst and strong emotions. Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow me. And I would really appreciate if you guys would give me a chance on Patreon too given the recent events, it would really boost me up.

Thank you <3