My Very Bad Day And All That Happened After

I jerked backward, taking the tie with me.

My heart beat lost its rhythm for a moment but I was quick to recover.

I cleared my throat and announced nervously, “Done.”

His eyelids fell shut.

And the room became quiet.

I didn't know what else to do, so, I walked to a corner, pulled out my phone, and googled:

“How to overcome the effects of an aphrodisiac.”

The results popped on my screen:

“Stay calm.”

“Hydrate.”

“Wait it out.”

I scoffed.

“Wait it out?”

Not a chance.

I tucked my phone in and returned to the bedside.

He lay still, his back tensed, arching slightly more than before.

I turned around to check his face. His eyes were still shut and a muscle twitched in his jaw.

His chest rose and fell slowly like he was deliberately measuring his breaths.

I sighed.

Was it okay to leave him like this?

I mean, I had my own troubles to deal with. Babysitting the horny CEO wasn't my job description.

Plus, I didn’t have the job anymore.

Where was his pretty girlfriend when he needed her?

Whatever, I needed to leave.

“Do you need more water?” I asked.

“No,” he answered.

The silence stretched between us a beat.

I tapped my foot impatiently.

“Uh… is there someone I should call?”

His eyes stayed shut but his brows creased slightly.

I shifted my weight, my eyes narrowing as I waited for a response that never came.

“Is there anything else you need me to do?” I pressed further.

“Just… stop talking.”

I don't know whether it had to do with his tone or my own pent-up frustration, but damn, those words stirred my anger up.

My brows shot up.

“Oh,” I said, “I'm annoying you? Why do I even bother?”

“I'm sure you need some privacy doing whatever gets you back to… normal. You know where the bathroom is.”

I turned toward the door.

“Wait,” he said. This time, his voice had lost its commanding tone. “Please.”

My hand paused over the door lock.

“Just... until my doctor gets here,” he added quietly.

Now, we're talking.

“Did you call him already?” I asked, turning around.

“No,” he said, pushing himself up. “Let me borrow your phone.”

I wasn't even going to ask where his phone was.

I unlocked and handed my phone over.

He punched all the wrong digits in all the wrong ways.

“Here” I said, taking back the phone. “Let me help.”

He squeezed his eyes tight, grabbing his head as he pulled out the digits slowly from his memory.

Finally, I dialed his doctor and when it began to ring, I returned the phone to him.

But before he could take it back, his body fell backwards on the bed.

I dropped the phone, screaming,

“Mr. Styles!”

Nothing.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “You're going to die now? Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

Nothing.

“You better wake up or your obituary will be a joke,” I went on.

“Mr. Perfect OD'ed on freaky stuff. I'll grant interviews from here to Jupiter and back. You’ll never rest in peace. You hear me?”

I grabbed his shoulder, shaking him.

“Mr. Styles, wake the hell up.”

Still nothing.

“Oh God. I knew I should never have gone in that elevator.”

A deep voice came through the phone.

“Hello?”

I grabbed it, straightening.

“Y-yes,” I began. “It's Mr. Jordan Styles. He's unconscious. I think he took something… really bad. You have to come now.”

“Who's this?” the voice queried.

“Me?” I said. “Uh… housekeeping. He called with my phone, and then he fainted or something.”

There was a split second pause.

“What are you talking…?”

“Listen, you can do twenty-one questions later,” I cut him off. “Just get here as fast as you can and wake him up.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Suite 126B,” I said. “Please,

hurry.”

I ended the call and went back to check on him.

His skin was hot.

“Damn it, you're burning up.”

I paused for a moment, heart racing.

“Okay,” I said. “I'm unbuttoning your shirt.”

Then in a more quiet voice, I added,

“Please don't die on me. What the hell did you take?”

I quickly loosened some buttons.

“Just be okay and let me get back to my life.”

Afterwards, I fetched the remote control and turned down the AC.

Then, I went into the bathroom and returned with a damp towel, placing it on his forehead.

“It’s way too early in the new year for all this.”

“I got fired for what I didn’t do, I would definitely be hung by my toes for this.”

When the doorbell finally sounded, I couldn’t have gotten to the door faster.

A very fit middle-aged man stood there.

“You're the doctor?” I asked.

He looked at me from head to toe.

“I am.”

I was about to ask for his ID, when I remembered that the only thing I knew about him was his phone number.

“Uh… wait here,” I said.

A frown formed on his face in protest.

Shutting the door, I went back inside to get my phone.

My heart kept pounding.

By the time I opened the door again, I was already dialing the doctor's number.

He pulled out his phone, holding up the screen to my face.

Great.

I motioned him inside.

“Quickly. Get in," I said.

"He hasn't moved a muscle since he slumped. You can wake him up, right?”

He began checking Mr. Styles.

I shifted, hovering.

“He is going to be alright, right?”

He didn't answer. Instead, he asked,

“What did you say he took?”

I shook my head.

“I don't know. I can only guess.”

“And what would your guess be?” he asked calmly.

“Honestly?” I replied. “An aphrodisiac or something like it.”

His eyes flew to mine.

My hands flew up.

“Don't look at me. Wake him up and ask him yourself. I found him like that.”

Right then, Jordan Styles stirred. He pushed up slowly until he sat up.

“I took some pain killers,” he said groggily. “I believe the water was laced with something.”

“Well,” the doctor said. “That explains a lot.”

“How is that even possible?” I wondered out loud. “No one ever goes near your suite.”

They both ignored me like I wasn't in the room anymore.

Imagine that.

His doctor was here and I'd become useless.

I guess my mission was accomplished.

I slipped out quietly.

In the locker room, I changed into my own clothes, then reported to the security post to leave all my access keys.

Finally, I signed out.

Twenty minutes later, I sat with a medium-sized cup of vanilla with caramel ice cream at my favorite ice cream place.

Slowly I ate, allowing the familiar sweetness to comfort me.

But that didn’t last long.

Reality buzzed in my head.

Nana had a lung infection and was getting scheduled treatments which weren't kind to my savings.

Recently, I noticed the little pauses she took to catch her breath while we talked, and the way she smiles through the pain she must feel in her chest.

What if she becomes sicker? My savings were a joke.

A faint sigh escaped me.

I must begin my internship earlier than I planned.

Nana’s life may very well depend on it.