“I can’t believe this!!” Paul said as he slumped onto one of the settees in Christian’s bedroom. “Two whole weeks?!”

“Paul, Paul, Paul…” Ben begun.

Paul shot a disgusted look at Ben. “Save whatever you want to say, Ben ‘cause I ain’t gonna listen to it.”

Ben opened his mouth as he wanted to say something but he considered Paul’s statement for a while and closed his mouth again.

“Mark, how’s he?” Paul asked, ignoring Ben’s next statement – if he had any.

“Fever’s going down but I don’t think it’s gonna break anytime soon. Having a feeling that this is going to take more than a week. His fever’s really bad!”

“Well, duh! I mean, I’ve got absolutely no idea how long Chris had been crouching under the rain on that day. It could’ve been hours!” Paul paused to turn and looked at Mark. “Do you think he’s gonna make it?”

“Paul!” Mark said in an accusing tone. “Don’t say that. Of course he’s gonna make it. What makes you think that he probably won’t?”

“We have that pneumonia thingy that’s running around.”

“You mean that SARS thingy?”

“Yeah, that thingy.”

“Did Chris complain anything that sounded like muscle ache or something to you?” Ben interrupted.

Paul shook his head. “But, you know him. He’d probably brushed it off and said that it’s just his limbs over-working. I don’t think he’s gonna think till there.”

“True – ” Pause. “Well, he’s nearly half of the symptoms of SARS. He’s got the flu, the fever that’s a little bit too high for our liking…”

“Ben.” Mark turned and stared at Ben for a minute before continuing. “Shut up. We all know full well that Chris would’ve told us anything if he would have been feeling a little too weird for his own liking. Besides, he’s already sick and unconscious and according to the doctor – quite vulnerable to all sorts of diseases all around. We could’ve tried our best to keep him safe and not say anything like that. He wouldn’t die!”

 

He could hear several voices talking at the same time but he couldn’t seem to be able to open his eyes. He felt as if there’s a fist pounding him on the back of his head. He hated being sick.

“Chris?” he heard a male voice called. That’s strange… He sounded familiar.

Hang on, of course he’s familiar… there’re supposed to be four of them. If the man who’s called him was the first of the four persons, and he was to be the second, who are to be the remaining two? he thought.

“Chris? Can you actually hear me?” the same male voice called again.

Can’t believe I’m actually thinking of this. Of course I know these other two and the one who’s calling at the moment – just couldn’t think straight.

 He cracked open one eye and thought he saw one of the other three persons with him – supposedly… he thought he saw a blur image of a rather short man with dark brown hair.

A cold hand was on his forehead as he writhed uncomfortably; he wished that he were not the one who’s in bed, plagued with this fever. He really did wish that he were dead. He realized that the very same hand was caressing his hair.

Alexandria? His mind asked.

Fighting his fever fervently, he struggled to go back to the world where his friends were – whoever his friends are.

Couldn’t think. Everything’s just too confusing.

Mark took one look at the supposedly sleeping but fitful form on the bed and shook his head. It’s about time… the fever should be breaking by now.

All of them watched as Christian tossed and turned while mumbling something without recognition. 

 

~~~

 

“Stop!” Mrs. Brett cried frantically.

“Shut up, bitch!” Christian’s father shouted as he punched Stein on the jaw.

Mr. Brett was already caught in the middle of the fight. His father kicked and punched and pushed Mr. Brett onto a wall. Mr. Brett passed out but Stein was giving him a real fight. That man never ceased to miss a beat, even though he’s already had bruises forming slowly on his body and a black eye.

Christian rushed forward, trying to stop the fight or distract his father’s attention from Stein and to give Stein enough time to contact the police and call for an ambulance – whichever comes first.

He reached his father’s side and clutched a handful of his shirt and pulled at it, hard. His father wasn’t prepared for it and fell but he managed to balance himself in time to caught hold of his son’s blond hair. With all his might, he shoved his son away. He’s not here to beat up his son… he just wanted to get his hands on this son of a bitch and probably, later, on his wife.

He knew that his wife was cheating on him all along. His friends had told him that they had saw his wife talking to a fair stranger when they’d passed by a church. What was his wife doing in the front yard of that church anyway?

But that didn’t matter now. He’d found the man who had the guts to tackle his wife. Didn’t he even know that she’s a married person? Probably he did. After all, he saw his own son talking to this man… what was his name again? Stein, yes, that’s his name. It’s Stein.

Oh God, anyway… fuck that man. He’s had no rights to make friends with his wife… and also his son. God knows what sort of things he’s had planted into Christian’s mind. He probably told Christian to hate his own father and drove him to go against him. Then again, Christian had already hated him ever since he started abusing him and his son’s dignity actually amused him highly. He was one strong kid; he can give him that.

Christian came crashing down and landed between two stools. He pulled himself up quickly and took on glance around. Mr. Brett was still unconscious; his father was still going against Stein while his mother and Mrs. Brett were nowhere to be seen.

‘Probably gone to call the police,’ he thought.

 

~~~

 

Christian’s fever finally break nearly three days after his mother had flew to London from Norway to look after him.

The rest of the lads had been very busy ever since Christian had been sick. Their work seemed to multiply since they’d temporarily lost one man-source.

“How is he?” Ben asked, closing the door quietly behind the three of them. 

“Getting better,” Inger answered as she ran a damp towel across Christian’s forehead. “Although it’d been longer than any of us had thought. I don’t think two weeks are enough for him to recover fully. Going to be very weak even when he’s okay, you know…”

“Yeah, we realised that.” Mark paused and looked at Christian’s mother. “How’d you know so much about all these “gonna be weak” thingy?”

Inger answered nonchalantly. “It’s just experience, Mark. Christian’s my son, I know many things that I think you three hadn’t known yet.”

“Erm… Inger…” Paul began suddenly. He was fidgeting around, deliberating whether he should ask that question that had been plaguing their minds or not. “I don’t wanna sound rude but there’s something I must ask – ” He spun on his heels and faced Ben and Mark. “And I think you two would like to know the answer to this question of mine too.”

“Go on, Paul, go on,” Inger encouraged.

“You see, Christian had been making these trips to Norway for far too many times and he hadn’t mention anything to us. He told us not to follow him and he hadn’t told Tim or Vicky anything about these trips he’d had anyway – ” Paul started.

“And so, you want me to fill in those gaps for you.” Inger nodded slowly. “This is going to take a long time but I guess you three should know about this. It’s a little strange that Christian hadn’t told you three anything seeing as you’ve all been traveling together for nearly five years now.”

 

~~~

 

“Stein…” said Inger but Stein silenced her.

“Please, Inger, I don’t want you to say anything. I just can’t understand how you mother and son had managed to live all these years! I mean, with that bastard beating the both of you, especially you – ” he nodded in that blond boy’s way.

Apparently, Stein had been talking longer than he thought but his thoughts weren’t on that man. What would happen to his father now that he had been charged for sexually abusing his wife, abusing his son physically for more than 10 years and also physical assaulting a man – not to mention a total stranger?

The Bretts’ lawyer came later that day, after the arrestment of Christian’s father. According to the lawyer, the man would probably undergo a 20 years jail sentence – maybe more than that seeing as he’d had been abusing his family.

It was a little bit scary knowing that your father’s going to jail and the kids in school would probably tease you about it but it wouldn’t be that bad anymore because he’d never liked his father.

Although he didn’t have a single clue how he’s going to live through his life with everything that happened to him haunting him, he was sure that he would brave it. There was no denying that his father actually deserved those jail sentences.

He smiled inwardly when he finally came to terms with everything. Besides, he can finally concentrate more on his music now that his father’s gone.

His father had never been an appreciator of any sort of music – actually, he hated all music genre. Christian only got to learn music because of his grandfather who was a musician when he was a young man.

His grandfather had taught him many things and he hadn’t regretted and hadn’t caved in from all the beatings that he’d had from his father. No matter how much his father beat him, he would still love music. It’s his life – and besides, his father’s going to jail. There was absolutely no way that he’s going to abuse his family anymore.

 

~~~

 

Memories came and go, as if she was perusing through a photo album. She saw her wedding, the birth of their first son – a tiny little fair baby whom they’d named Christian – and his first cry, his first steps. Her husband had been so happy back then. He loved the both of them – he showered his life with all the love he had and his son got a little more affection.

Tears flooded her eyes as she poured out her story to the three guys sitting in front of her at the moment, listening intently. They had been a great listener; they hadn’t even interrupt, not even a single bit. They weren’t such bad boys, but perhaps, they had a better life than Christian had – although his life had changed tremendously after her husband was jailed and she divorced with him; marrying Stein later and changed all their last names to “Ingebrigtsen”. It was hard work changing their last names but they’d managed and from that day onwards, she’s known as Mrs. Inger Ingebrigtsen – wife of Stein Ingebrigtsen, a famous singer in Norway – and their son was to be called Christian Ingebrigtsen.

However, they weren’t exactly prepared when they had stepped into the Ingebrigtsen household. Stein had a daughter by the name of Eva. His wife had died giving birth to her and that was how Christian had his half-sister called Eva. A few years after their union, Inger and Stein had a son called Martin.

Inger wiped her tears as soon as she wrapped up her story with “and that’s how Christian’s life was when he was in his teens”.

She looked up and saw the other three staring at her. However, she was saved from all the questions when a voice suddenly interrupted Ben’s incoming question.

“Mum?”

“Christian!” his mother said as soon as she saw Christian raising himself tentatively from the bed. She dashed forward to stop him but couldn’t.

Christian sat up on the bed, one hand holding his head – it was as if by putting his hand on his head, his world might stop spinning but it didn’t happen. He closed his eyes momentarily as his dizziness got worse.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw his mother wiping her eyes. ‘She’s been crying,’ he told himself. It didn’t take him long to realised that. After all, he’d been there every time his mother had been crying in the bedroom when they’d alone… but that was history now.

“You shouldn’t be up, Chris,” Mark said reasonably. He strode forward and attempted in pushing Christian back down on the bed but Christian held up his hand.

“I can manage just fine, Mark.” He took in a shuddering breath and exhaled slowly.

The roaring in his ears got louder by the minute. He couldn’t really hear the things that his friends and his mother had been saying, unless he concentrated. And all these concentration drained his waning strength. Christian swayed slightly and willed himself to collapse onto the bed again…