"Allen, wake up, it's time for school." Allen slowly opened his unusually yellow colored eyes. Through narrowed eyes, he made out the shape of his best friends, Stacy and Carlos. They were both standing in his room, Stacy with her hands on her hips and Carlos going through Allen's closet, pulling out clothes.

"Hurry up, man! We can't be late 'cause of you again!" Carlos insisted. Allen covered his face with his pillow and smiled slightly at the sound of Carlos' Hispanic accent; it was just so adorable. Without any warning, Stacy ripped the pillow out of his grip and threw it across the room.

"Come on!" she scolded. "You said you wouldn't make this a habit anymore!"

"Sorry, mom," Allen snorted, sitting up. Carlos threw a shirt at him and said,"Put that on, stand up." Allen stood up, stretched, and eyed the shirt. "It's kinda ugly," he stated. He draped himself over Carlos, nuzzling the back of his friend's neck.

"I bought that shirt for you!" Stacy argued, sounding offended. Carlos snickered slightly and tried to push Allen away, but Allen stay determined and clung onto him like a burr.

"Get off," Carlos said, elbowing him in the gut. Allen pouted but let go. "Good." Carlos dusted himself off as though Allen had dirtied him. "If Alexa saw you do that, she'd think something was up." Allen frowned at Carlos' girlfriend's name; he didn't have a strong liking for her since she was so snobby. She always acted as though Carlos were some sort of property that she owned.

"Hey, get ready, Allen, we don't have time for this," Stacy said quickly as she noticed the anger and hurt in Allen's eyes. He nodded and snatched a different shirt from his closet, slipped it on, then shooed his friends out so he could finish getting ready in peace. After they left, he closed his door and sat down on his bad, taking deep breaths. He always had to do that when he got too excited, scared, or mad. His breathing problems caused him to easily lose his breath, and if he didn't catch it, his heart would stop and he'd die. Just thinking about it freaked Allen out. After he managed to breathe normally again, he finished getting dressed, and entered the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"Allen, are you ready yet?!" Stacy knocked loudly on the door to his room, her voice mixed with annoyance and worry. "Mr. Harris is gonna get mad!"

"Im coming, sorry," he called back, spitting into the sink. He rushed out of his room, Stacy sighing,"Finally!" And then he realized he hadn't even gotten his backpack ready.

"BRUH!" Carlos shouted, throwing his arms into the air in exasperation. Allen winced and hurried back into his room, suddenly taking note of the mess he had. 'Oh, Lord Jesus Christ, what am I gonna do?!,' he thought, groaning inwardly. He heard more calls from Carlos, and Allen shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath to calm himself, but it wasn't working, not this time. He felt his heart beginning to race, and he began to lose all feeling of his limbs.

"S-Stacy...!" he called weakly. He dropped down to his knees, unable to feel like legs. "H... hel... p..." Allen felt a sudden weight lifted off of him, and he looked up to see Carlos hoisting him up, Stacy helping.

"Call 911...!" Stacy looked like she was shouting, but her voice seemed to faint and far away, and Allen strained to hear what Carlos was replying, but the world around him went dark.

Slowly opening his eyes, Allen saw Stacy and Carlos sitting, fidgeting, in uncomfortable looking chairs. "Wh... where... am I...?" he asked softly. Stacy jumped to her feet and rushed forward, her eyes wide and watery. "You idiot!" she whisper-shouted, her voice raspy. "You had us so worried! You can't stress yourself like that! You know you easily get your anxiety attacks! Argh, no, this is our fault...! We should've known better! Im so sorry, Allen. Im just glad you're okay."

"Wh-whoa, calm down, I don't plan to die very soon," Allen replied halfheartedly. He dared to look over at Carlos, almost challenging him to speak up, but Carlos stared down at his phone screen, a small smile playing at his lips. Hurt crashed onto Allen. He already knew what Carlos was doing: talking to stupid Alexa.

"Allen, I see you're awake." Allen looked up as the doctor walked in. He nodded. "You gave your friends quite a scare, they insisted they stayed with you at all times. You're lucky to have them. Anyway, we won't charge you for the visit since you don't have any family to take care of you. You can leave now, but you're going to need a portable oxygen concentrator with you in case you lose your breath again," the doctor continued explaining. Allen nodded, and he saw Stacy looking even more concerned. He gave her a comforting pat on her arm, trying to tell her that he was going to be fine, but she didn't seem convinced.

"How long will he have to use it for?" Stacy asked.

"It depends on how his condition gets. If it gets worse, he'll have to either use it for a longer time or stay here in the hospital. If he gets better, hopefully he won't have to use it longer than necessary."

"Don't worry, it's not like this hasn't happened before-"

"But it was never anything this serious, Allen," Stacy interrupted. "Carlos, get off your damn phone!" Carlos looked up, seeming confused and surprised.

"Sorry, what?" he muttered. Stacy rolled her eyes angrily.

"Ugh, never mind!" Stacy snapped. "Thank you, sir. I guess we'd best be on our way."

"I'll make sure the nurse at the front desk gives you a note just in case. You're in college, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, you can go on ahead and wait while I give your friend his oxygen concentrator."

"Alright, thank you, sir."