Chapter Text
Jake snickers, “So your shits are on the clock?”
“Everything’s on the clock for him!” Rich emphasizes. “I’m telling you, man, my manager's gotta be a robot or something. Calibrated to make as much money as possible.”
Rich raises his arms above his head, stretching his back. He leans against the armrest of the couch and readjusts his feet in Jake’s lap as he continues, counting examples off on his hand, “Smile at customers to make more money. Keep your uniform neat to make more money. Take fewer bathroom breaks to make more money. Have-”
Jake chimes in again, “Does he get like a bonus for this stuff ‘cause he's your boss or?” He reaches over to get a sip of water from the table next to him, finishing off the cup.
“I don’t think so? And I doubt it's for a promotion or something. It's just like…” Rich trails off, reaching for his own cup on the floor. His hand fumbles around as he tries to blindly find it.
He finishes his thought once he grasps it, “…like it's his Grand Purpose or something.”
He absentmindedly brings the cup to his lips to take a sip. After a brief moment, he looks into it to find that it's already empty. “Aw, damn,” he mutters.
“Your cup done too?” Jake asks, lifting up his own. Rich nods and Jake stands up. Rich moves his feet out of the way for him, then picks his own cup up again. After a quick “Gimme”, Jake takes Rich's cup alongside his own and heads for the kitchen.
Alone, Rich spreads out across the entire couch to stretch his legs. He lazily rolls off of it, barely catching himself with his arms as he meets the floor. He gets up and dusts off his shirt and pants. He looks around the room.
The rain patters against the house heavily and rapidly. It’s hard to see through the window due to how dark it is, but he thinks he can just barely make out some of the trees. Their large branches sway a bit from the wind while their leaves droop from the weight of the rain.
With a passing thought of ‘ I hope Jeremy took an umbrella’, Rich mutes the TV to appreciate the sound. He closes his eyes as the rain fills his mind.
It’s relaxing. Peaceful. If he focuses, he’s pretty sure he can even hear the different sounds the droplets make based on what they hit. There’s the overwhelming and constant shhhhh of all the droplets that fall straight to the ground, unblocked. Then there’s the higher pitched tnks as some hit and bounce off the window pane. And then there’s-
Thump
Rich opens his eyes abruptly, startled, and looks towards the kitchen. “Jake?”
Jake calls out from the other room, still out of view, “Sorry, dude! Dropped something, my bad.”
“Okay.” Rich continues looking to the kitchen for a moment longer before closing his eyes again. Though this time, his mind begins to stray.
‘ What’s Jake doing in there for so long anyways? Isn’t he just getting some water? Maybe he changed his mind and wants something else? Maybe tea or- hot chocolate? We did get that new pack a while ago, but-’
The wind picks up more suddenly, adding to the all-consuming noise around him.
‘This is pretty nice. It’s almost like I’m in the rain, except without the cold and wetness and stuff. Michael was right.’ He opens his eyes to take in the shoe rack by the door. ‘Did Jeremy know it was gonna rain this much when he left? It’s the first big storm of the school year, so-”
Thump
He blinks. ‘ Did Jake drop something again?’ Rich waits to hear anything from Jake. But there’s nothing.
Thump
Rich turns to the door.
Thump
‘ Is Jeremy back already? But he has keys, why would he knock?’
Thump
Rich heads towards the sound. ‘ Maybe the rain’s getting in the way somehow.’ He puts his hand on the knob and twists it. ‘ Is this gonna let the rain in?’, he wonders as he pulls open the door.
Except it’s not Jeremy. It’s…a man.
He looks around Rich’s age and is dressed in basic dark clothing-a shirt and pants. Or, at least, they look dark now. It’s hard to tell with how little light there is outside and, Rich notices, all the rain in them. The man is drenched from head to toe. His hair is damp and slicked to his head. His face is just as wet and Rich can even see the droplets clinging to his long eyelashes. His mouth is slightly open and quivers. In fact, his whole body is shaking. He’s clearly shivering from the cold, yet there’s something off about his movements. They’re more jerky, stuttering and stopping with varying ferocity compared to shivering’s usual steady tremor.
Nowhere is this more clear than in his hands. Umbrella-less, they stay at his sides, trembling. One moves on its axis, jolting a few degrees to the left in spurts before switching to the right. The other hand’s fingers are wiggling about independently in an attempt, Rich’s assumes, to keep them warm.
The man does his best to look at him while repeatedly blinking to keep the rain out of his eyes. His gaze is hazy and it even seems to take him a while to realize exactly what he’s looking at. Yet, once he does, he stills completely and immediately. A shiver runs down Rich’s spine as the now motionless and wide-eyed man stares him dead in the eyes. Rich stares back and at this moment realizes three things:
One: That the man is handsome. Outrageously so.
Two: That he has no clue who this man is.
And Three: That he should probably close the door.
As these thoughts finish forming in Rich’s mind, the man breathes in. His breath shudders and does so with such force that the man’s shoulders shake a little with it. He blinks again, not once looking away, and Rich begins to move backwards, now set on ending this unsettling exchange when the man’s eyes suddenly roll up into his head, close, and
He collapses.
Having already been leaning forward when standing, the man now careens into the doorway. Rich immediately goes on autopilot and catches him before he hits the floor. He stands there.
The man’s unconscious body is awkwardly pressed against his, with Rich’s arms bracing against the man’s own to hold him upright. In this strange pose, the man’s head has slumped forward, resting on Rich’s shoulder. He can even feel the other’s hair lightly tickling his neck and, as they stand there, Rich can feel the rain on the man begin dripping onto him. In fact, he can feel it beginning to seep into his shirt. The rain. From the man. The stranger.
Rich immediately steps backwards.
The man falls to the ground with a thud and slight splat .
“Who’s that?” Jake asks, walking over from the kitchen.
Rich shrugs.
___________________
“Ok, so,” Michael begins, “Google says to…’position the person on the back’,” He looks up from his phone.
Rich is unfolding the edge of one of the towels they set the man on as Jake gives Michael a thumbs up. “Yeah!” Jake adds, “Like for when you’re drunk. So you don’t choke on your vomit, right?”
Michael blanches. “He was drunk?!”
Rich immediately opens his mouth to reply, but then pauses. He thinks for a second, looking to the side in recollection and then at the man on the floor again. He goes back to Michael.
“Maybe?”
“Oh my God.” Michael looks up and sets his phone down in exasperation. “You let a drunk guy you don’t even know into our house?”
“I told you, I thought it was Jeremy! And then when he passed out, I didn’t know what to do. So I- you know, he’s probably just another student, right?” Rich looks to Jake for support.
“Yeah, he’s probably a student. I’ve passed out on some friends like this before.” Jake looks at the man. “Well, not strangers, I guess. Though, I did once pass out on this random lady’s lawn.” He scratches his arm. “...Might’ve thrown up on it too, actually.” He blinks, thinking, before tossing his hand casually, “Well, that’s basically just like, fertilizer and stuff, right? So.” He scratches again.
Michael carries on, “Alright, fine. Then, the next thing it says is…’loosen belts, collars, or other tight clothing’”.
They all briefly look at the complete stranger in silence.
“He looks fine. It’s just a shirt and pants, right?” Rich offers. Jake glances at the man’s crotch area and neck, “Yeah.”
“Ok, next is…no, this is for after they woke up,” he mutters, “Ok, yeah, next is-’call 911 if they don’t regain consciousness within one minute’”. He blinks at his phone, taking in the words. “Rich, how long ago did you answer the door for him?”
Rich worries his lip, “Uh, like…a minute or two? Maybe three, ‘cause of the towels and when we called you down?”
Michael breathes in, “O-ok, ok, then, that’s-that’s…” he glances at the body, “Over a minute, so I’ll call 911 and- God, is this guy dying in our living room? What the hell, Rich, why’d you let a dead guy into our house-oh my god, he’s-” Michael struggles with his phone as he tries switching it to call.
Rich nervously looks between the body and Michael, waving his hand urgently at the latter, “Dude, juth j-just call them already, man! He’s not dead yet-he’s still breathing, right? So juth hurry up and-and-” Rich takes a quick breath in and out, then another, then another.
Jake interrupts, “Yeah, Michael, come on! You call 911 and Rich, calm down and, uh, I’ll google what to do if they don’t and- wait, wait, he’s waking up!”
They all immediately look to the man, whose eyes are now slowly opening. He blinks blearily and then stares at the ceiling. He blinks one more time before looking to his side. He makes eye-contact with Michael.
And his eyes go Wide.
He sits up immediately in one sharp movement and just stares at him. Michael keeps his gaze for a moment before looking to Jake and Rich, though he can still see in his periphery that the man’s still looking at him. The three roommates share a look before Jake pipes in.
“Is he brain damaged?”
The man’s head immediately snaps to him and then Rich. His mouth opens slightly as he continues gawking at them, looking from Rich to Michael then back to Jack then to Rich and so on. Soon, however, the man starts looking around the room overall, like he’s looking for something.
Biting the bullet, Michael speaks up, “Um…do you know your name? Or-” The man’s gaze whips back to him, his unblinking stare in full effect. Michael balks and his words begin to shrivel up. “Or-uh, the date or like, what…happened or…?”
The man doesn’t answer and nor does anyone else. Eventually, he blinks, swallows, and looks down. He seemingly now takes notice of the wet towels under him and closes his hand into a fist on it. He looks up at them all again, ending on Michael.
“Where’s-”
Click
They all turn to look at the entrance door and, past the noise of the rain and wind, they all listen as the door’s lock is slowly opened and then as the door itself is. “Hey guys,” the newcomer says as he wipes his wet shoes on the mat outside, steps in, and then turns around to shake out his umbrella. He walks further in, takes off his now sodden sneakers, and rests them with the other shoes by the entrance. He places his umbrella there too and brings a hand to his slightly wet hair, sighing. “Geeze, it’s so windy, I-”
Jeremy looks up to see the 4 familiar faces looking back at him. His body turns as cold and still as ice.
The man and Jeremy lock eyes, both pairs equally wide, as their mouths fall open.
“Jeremy,” the man says.
“Squip.”