A bright, cold sunny Monday morning. Noah overheard Cody getting himself ready for work from his desk. He wasn't typing, just staring at the monitor of the computer. His glasses were on the tip of nose, and his ash tray led astray since Noah hadn't smoked any cigarettes. His fingers were nervously tapping on his desk, still staring at the screen of the computer. The bedroom door opened and Cody walked out. Noah glanced at him, watching Cody fix himself some tea and a quick bite to eat. Cody didn't say a word, and neither did Noah. Again, nothing but the ticking of the kitchen clock. Cody sighed, getting a little sick of the silence and clicked the radio on. Music played and Cody returned to eating his breakfast. Noah looked at Cody, watching him eat slowly. His fingers were still nervously tapping on his desk. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the right words. He saw Cody look up at the clock, and realize that he was late for work. Leaving his cup and plate behind, Cody got up to fetch his coat. He zipped up and left the apartment, closing the door behind him quietly.
Noah's fingers drummed on the desk and he looked back at the computer. He cleared his throat and saved his work that he had so far. He got up, stretching his arms and back. He walked slowly to the couch and let himself fall on it face first. A long, tired, depressed sigh came out of him. He turned around and laid face up, staring at the ceiling. All he heard was music from the radio that was in the kitchen. Someone playing a guitar, as someone played along with a piano.
'Cody plays the piano…' Noah thought absently mindly.
Perhaps he shouldn't have been so hard on Cody. Although Cody hates showing it, he really was a sensitive person. And, of course, he was an only child. Noah sometimes wondered what life would be like if he was an only child. Living with eight siblings was such a hassle, no privacy what so ever. But, he would hate to know if any of his siblings, let alone one of his parents, was sick and dying. He knew if something like that happened to him, Cody would help him cope with it. Noah closed his eyes, sighing. He was acting like a brat to Cody. Refusing to acknowledge the father of Cody just because they both bickered like wild animals whenever he talks to the man. Noah knew that to him, Mr. Booker was just another bully. And the way Noah avoided bullies was by keeping far, far away from them.
Thinking to himself, Noah remembers that this horrid silent treatment started when Cody simply asked to join him to visit his sick father. And those horrible things he said about the very ill man. And that look on Cody's face…It was enough to make anyone feel guilty. Noah coughed a bit, wishing for a smoke. He stared up at the blank, white ceiling and listened to the music that was playing on the radio.
'Take this sinking boat, and point it home. We've still got time…
Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice. You'll make it now…'
'Jesus fuckin' Christ! It's so fuckin' cold!' Noah thought as he walked on the streets of Toronto, holding his coat more tightly to him. He huffed, a small cloud escaping from his mouth. Staying inside the apartment for too long left Noah vulnerable to the bitter cold outside. He walked across a street and entered inside a corner store. He rubbed his hands, trying to warm them up as he walked to the counter. A man near around his age was reading a magazine behind the counter. Noah cleared his throat to catch the man's attention.
"You got any cigarettes?" Noah asked.
The man glanced up from his magazine and set it down.
"What kind you're looking for?" the man asked.
"I don't care. Any kind…" Noah mumbled. "You got matches too?"
The man shook his head as he grabbed a pack of cigarettes for Noah.
"I only got lighters, man. You want one of those instead?"
Noah grumbled, but nodded. He hated lighters, but he needed a cigarette so badly. He paid the man, quickly opening up the pack of cigarettes and taking one out. He placed on his lips and tried to flick the lighter on. He grumbled again when he couldn't make the lighter lit. The man behind the counter watched as Noah tried over and over again to make the lighter work.
"Do you need any help, sir?" the man finally asked.
Noah glared at the man, but nodded. The man grabbed the lighter from Noah and flicked it on with one single flick. Noah glared at this, but didn't care when the man lit his cigarette for him. He took a long drag and exhaled with relief, a gray cloud escaping from his mouth.
"Hey, do you know where Sacred Heart Hospital is?" Noah asked, putting his pack of cigarettes away.
"Yeah, it's up the road. I think you take a left and than a right. If I'm wrong, then it's the other way around." The man answered, picking up his magazine.
"Alright, thanks." Noah said and was about to leave the store when the man stopped him.
"Hey, you look familiar. Do I know you?"
Noah lightly smirked, and turned around.
"Well, I have written a couple of books, and…"
"No, no. I don't even read, man. Nah, I think I saw you on TV before…Oh, I got it! Total Drama Island! Ha ha ha ha! I used to watch that show all the time!"
Noah scowled and turned away from the man. He left the store, slamming the door behind him. The man was slightly confused and then frowned for forgetting to ask Noah for his autograph.
Noah arrived in front of the hospital, staring at it. He nervously puffed on his cigarette, making it smaller and smaller in his hands. He let out a heavy sigh and walked inside. He felt the numbness on his face melt away, thanks to the hospital's heat. He took a drag on his butt of a cigarette, and walked up to the front desk. A nurse was filing folders, wearing light pink scrubs.
"Uh, excuse me?" Noah said in a quiet voice.
The nurse looks up and lightly smiles at him. She placed the folders down.
"Yes? May I help you?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm looking for Mr. Booker's room." Noah said, nervously tapping on the desk.
"One moment, please." The nurse said, and turned around to check some folders.
Noah turned around himself, nervously smoking his cigarette still. Being in a hospital felt weird. So many people in here are sick, broken, or dying. He felt so out-of-place, he just wanted to leave this place and never come back. Ever, again.
"Sir, Mr. Booker's room is on the second floor. Room 211."
Noah turned back around, staring at the nurse. The nurse raised a brow at him.
"Are you visiting, sir?" the nurse asked.
Noah lightly coughed, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"Yes, I am." He answered.
Both Noah and the nurse stared at each other with a very awkward silence hanging between them. Noah lightly coughed again.
"So, second floor, right?"
"Yes, sir. Room 211."
"Right. Thanks."
Noah turned away from the nurse, walking to the elevator. He clicked on the Up button, and waited. Without knowing, he brought up his cigarette again to smoke, when the nurse from the front desk stopped him.
"Sir, you do know that smoking inside a hospital is illegal?"
Noah looked back at the nurse and looked down at his butt of a cigarette. He cleared his throat, mumbling an apology. He dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. The nurse was shocked and upset, but before she could complain to Noah about what he done, the elevator's door opened and Noah stepped inside.
Walking around on the second floor, Noah looked for Room 211. He passed by other random rooms, each filled with a sick or dying person. Noah shivered, knowing he was totally going to take a shower when he goes back home. He didn't how Cody or Mrs. Booker can handle being in here. Noah was still fighting back the feeling of running out of here.
Noah finally found the room and stared at it. His hand went to the doorknob, but he couldn't bring himself to turn it. He was lightly shaking, and sweating. He needed another smoke so badly now and he almost reached to his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He stopped himself though, and took a huge breath. He opened the door slowly and peeked his head inside.
Mr. Booker looked so much paler than ever. The machines beeped everywhere and there were tubes sticking through and out of the old guy. His tired, purplish eyes were closed, and he was breathing in and out very slowly. Noah quietly walked inside, closing the door behind him. He walked up to Mr. Booker and just stared at him.
'Holy crap. The man really is dying.' Noah thought.
Noah looked around and saw a lonely chair next to Mr. Booker's bed. Noah sat on it, still staring at the sick man. Silence was here again, in this small hospital room. Noah shifted around in his seat nervously. He looked at Mr. Booker's face, wondering how he could look so relax in a place like this. He waved his hand over Mr. Booker's face. He also noticed that Mr. Booker was breathing more slowly than before.
"Are you dead?" he whispered the question.
Silence was Noah's answer and he began to grow more nervous.
'Holy crap. I'm sitting in a room with a dead body. A dead body, who is my boyfriend's father. Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh cra-'
"I'm not dead, nitwit."
Noah suddenly shot up from his seat, and quickly backed away from the bed. He talked! But, his eyes are closed! And, he's not breathing! Oh, god, it's a zombie. Mr. Booker turned into a zombie!
Mr. Booker slowly opened his eyes and turned to Noah. Noah was heaving heavily, his eyes still wide. Mr. Booker stared at him, his tired eyes slowly blinking at him. Noah looked around and than calm himself down, walking back to the chair. He sat down, clearing his throat.
"I thought you were the smart one in your family, Noah." Mr. Booker said, his voice sounding low and whispery.
Noah lightly blushed and looked away, feeling very embarrassed.
"Where is Cody?" Mr. Booker asked.
"He's at work. I came here by myself, sir." Noah answered.
"Does he know that you're here?"
"No, he doesn't."
Noah looked around, feeling nervous again. Mr. Booker sighed, staring at Noah.
"You look strange with a stubble, Noah."
Noah blinked, lightly touching his face.
"Well, I haven't shaved in a while. Since I was busy writing and all."
"Promise me you shave that off when you go home."
"When I have time, sir."
Mr. Booker lightly smiled, and Noah could see he was quietly laughing. Noah let himself smile, even if it was small and uncertain. Mr. Booker looked up at the ceiling, still lightly smiling.
"You and Cody have been fighting, right?"
Noah's eyes widen with surprise. How did Mr. Booker know that? Noah nervously fidget in his seat and nodded. Mr. Booker chuckled and lightly coughed.
"I bet you're wondering how I knew, huh?"
Noah didn't answer, feeling a bit ticked about how smug Mr. Booker sounded. Mr. Booker turned to look at him again, still lightly smiling.
"Every time Cody comes to visit, and I ask about you, instead of smiling, he frowns and says you're doing fine. And than he changes the subject."
Noah lifts an eyebrow at this. He knew by Cody doing that? Mr. Booker quietly laughed again, smiling.
"His mother does the same thing whenever we got into fights."
Noah lightly smiled again. He never had seen Mr. Booker so calm and happy around him before. It was sort of strange.
"Are you two fighting because of me?" Mr. Booker asked quietly.
Noah scratched the back of head nervously.
"It started out like that. But, now I think it's a little more than that."
Mr. Booker let out a wavy sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again.
"Please make up with Cody. I don't like to see him so upset."
Noah was lightly shocked by this. He leaned back on his chair lazily.
"I thought you would be glad if Cody finally dumped me."
Mr. Booker shook his head slowly.
"The only thing I want is my son's happiness. Even if it means you being with him."
Noah was surprised by this. This was really weird coming from the man who blamed him for "tainting" his son in the first place. Noah looked at Mr. Booker and noticed how skinny he has gotten too. The poor old man was pale, skinny, and had tubes going through him like he was some kid of waterslide for the medication he was getting.
It was quiet between the two again. Noah lightly sighed, looking around nervously. He was getting way too tired of the silence. Deciding to break the ice, Noah cleared his throat.
"So…you're…looking good, Mr. Booker."
Mr. Booker laughed, only little harder this time.
"That's a load of bull. Come on, Dasari. Tell me the truth. I can handle it."
Noah lightly laughed, feeling some edge sliding off him.
"Ok, than. You look like shit, Mr. Booker. Are you sure they're treating you right here?"
Mr. Booker laughed again and Noah joined him. They both laughed for a while, enjoying the feel of ease they both hadn't have for days. They both stopped, lightly breathing. Mr. Booker sighed, shaking his head. They were both quiet again, but still smiling. From a room next to this, they could both hear some classical music playing. A soft piano playing, followed by some violins.
"You know," Mr. Booker said softly to Noah, "I taught Cody how to play the piano."
"Really? You played before, Mr. Booker?"
"A long time ago. Back at collage, I used to play the piano all the time. It's how I met Mrs. Booker. The music lured her to me." Mr. Booker said, chuckling to himself.
"After we had Cody," he explained, "I used to have a grand piano in this apartment we used to live in. I played it every once in a while. Usually when my wife wants to sing Cody to sleep, so she asks me to play a soft piece. When Cody got a bit older, he wanted to learn how to play. He was about three or four, I don't really remember. Anyway, I picked him up and set him on my lap and taught him how to play the scales."
Noah listened closely to Mr. Booker's story. Not only because it was interesting, but how Mr. Booker's eyes were hazy as he flashbacked. Noah lightly smiled. Mr. Booker really did love his son a lot.
"So, you met Mrs. Booker at collage?" Noah asked.
"Yes. Just remembering it now, it was like yesterday. You look she looks pretty now, but back then, she was so beautiful. I always felt lucky to have her, even now. She's sometimes too good for me, and I know it."
Mr. Booker continued telling small stories to Noah about his wife or Cody for hours and Noah sat there, listening to the man's tales. Soon, it was late. Noah got up from his seat, stretching a bit.
"Sorry, but I have to go." He said.
Mr. Booker nodded. "I understand."
Noah walked to the door and opened it. Before stepping outside, he turned around and faced Mr. Booker.
"Good bye, Mr. Booker."
Mr. Booker smiled at Noah.
"Good bye, Noah. Thank you for visiting."
Noah smiled back and closed the door. He walked down the hallway, went into the elevator, and soon existed out of the hospital. Finally outside, he let out a huge sigh and went into his pocket for his cigarettes. He walked down the street as he placed a cigarette in his mouth and battled with the lighter again.
Author's Notes: Hey guys! I had loads of fun at the New York Comic Con! c: Anyway, it seems Noah is cleaning up his act a bit. ^_^ By the way, Noah's last name. Dasari, is also made up by me and a close friend. It's not real, so don't get confused. 8D Also, if anyone can guess the song that Noah was listening to, I'll give you an internet cookie! Yummy!
R/R please. c:
