"Thanks for the apples," said a woman with short, straight black hair, blue eyes, a black motorcycle outfit with grey pants, and a French accent. Her name was Colette. She was with her boyfriend, who had short curly red hair and brown eyes. His name was Alfredo Linguini. They were both in a culinary class at a top university, and people like to call him by his last name for his love of cooking and he was well known to be the son of a famous chef. For a while, he was at the hospital for an illness and Collete was visiting him.
"My relative sent me more than I can stomach," he said. "So I thought I'd share them with you."
"The others in the class miss you," she smiled blankly.
"Never thought I'd say this," he replied. "But I can't wait to return." Then he frowned. "But that will be a long time until then. My only chance of recovery is a new kidney. All they need now is the right donor."
"If only I were a match," she said. "I'd donate mine to you. No questions asked."
He looked up and smiled back. "You are sweet," he said. "But I don't want you to risk your life for me. Your support is more than enough to keep my spirits up."
She suddenly stood up. "I'd love to stay, but I should go."
This puzzled him. "Now? But you just got here."
"There are urgent errands to make," she replied flatly. "I'll visit again, so don't worry."
He was put off, but he didn't want to argue. "A-alright," he said hesitantly. "See you later."
"Au revoir," she quickly said and left out the door.
Alone, he sighed, got out of bed, and looked out the window to see her leave. He couldn't help but ponder her new withdrawn attitude. "What's happened to Colette?" he asked himself. "She's usually tough yet friendly, but now she seems to be keeping me at arm's length lately."
As soon as he got a view of her, she wasn't alone. By her side was a tall skinny man with short black hair banged on one side, blue eyes with a mole under his left eye, and black pants that matched the vest over his white shirt and the ribbon on his fedora.
This troubled Linguini. "Who's that?" he asked, watching them get on her motorcycle and drive away. "He is very handsome," he admitted. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, he told himself he was probably another student waiting on her.
The next day, Linguini was in bed as usual reading a book and there was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" he called out. He expected his girlfriend or classmate. However, the person was someone he thought he'd never see. It was the man he saw with Colette yesterday.
"Are you Alfredo Linguini?" the man kindly asked with a smile.
He was hesitant, but he didn't want to be rude. "I-I am," he replied reluctantly.
"Good," he chirped. "Just the man I was looking for. The name's Benjamin Krupp. Huge fan of your dad's dishes by the way, but that's not the reason why I came here today. I'm here because there's an important matter to talk about."
"And that is?" Linguini asked.
"I'll be frank," Ben replied looking serious. "Linguini, you shouldn't be with Colette Tatou anymore."
Linguini didn't expect someone to say that. "What?" he asked dumbstruck. "What are you talking about?"
"You heard me," he retorted. "I said I don't want you to see her again."
What was he saying? the chef student thought. "Why would you, a total stranger, show up and make ridiculous orders like that?" he asked incredulously. "And do you really expect me to follow them? Are you her crazy ex or something?"
The tall man smirked haughtily at him. "Oh, how can I be an ex when she and I are just beginning?" He then walked to the mirror. "Speaking of crazy, you haven't looked in the mirror, have you? The thought of Colette dating a man like you is more nuts than what I've just said."
Who was this man to look down on him? "Leave!" Linguini shouted.
"You aren't aware, are you?" Ben interrogated. "Colette's sick of you, you know that?" He turned to the patient. "She's been itching to dump you and get it over with, but because you're sick, she feels bad. Making her feel guilty and using your illness to make her stay. Don't you feel bad doing all that? You know, between you and me, she told me she wishes you'd just hurry up and die."
Linguini was too stunned to move. Why was this man being so cruel to him? He didn't want to believe it. "You're lying! You've got to be!"
"You wish," the beanpole chuckled. "She's got a very wicked side. Her lovely face and spunky attitude: all a mask. There are times that she bitches about you on our dates. It's kind of a pain in the ass, but that doesn't mean I don't love her to bits." Then he smiled dreamily. "And there's no doubt she truly loves me much more."
This was more than Linguini could stand. He grabbed the vase with flowers and threw it at the mirror next to the demeaning man. "Get out!" he screamed as the vase and mirror shattered and spilled into pieces on the floor.
Ben's smile slowly dropped, and he looked at the mess on the ground. "Did you just...try to hit me with that vase?" he asked coldly. He looked blank, but he was staring daggers. "You measly worm."
Now Linguini was scared. Not only did he not flinch, but he believed he was going to harm him.
"Mr. Linguini?" A doctor called rushing in. He heard the crash. "Are you alright?"
Finally, a cavalry arrived. "No!" he begged. "Get this man out of here! Please!"
The doctor put two and two together and knew right away this man was no good. "I don't know who you are," he reprimanded. "But you need to exit this hospital immediately. I won't tolerate anyone harassing my patients. Unless you want security to boot you out, I'd suggest you leave."
Like a switch, Ben smiled lightly at the doctor. "As you wish," he complied. Before he left, he turned to Linguini once again. "See ya, Al," he waved. "Remember to keep your word." Then both he and the doctor left the room.
Ben was at last gone, but Linguini was still shaken. This stranger was dehumanizing and malicious, but was what he said true? Was Colette done with him? Was he using his illness as a crutch? What if he was right?