The Orchestra - Sinfónia Lifsins - 22. Fuck Fucker's Fuck

“Are you awake?”

“What do you think?” Someone had put a tube through my throat. I sounded like an old chain smoker.

“Just checking.” The ceiling was bluer than the hospital’s. The bastard’s hand was touching mine and there was no sign of IV tubes anywhere.

“Where am I?”

“In our room. We brought you back yesterday.”

“I don’t remember it.”

“Yeah… you were kind of… stoned all though it…” The bastard was trying not to laugh. At least I had no memory of how pathetic I had been.

“Why did they bring me back?”

“Doctor Anna said she trusted us to take good care of you once the worst of the virus was over. You recovered remarkably fast considering how bad you were on Thursday.”

“What day is it?”

“Monday.” So I had wasted only three days of my life. “And it’s Christmas Eve.” Of course; bad news never ends. It is their whole reason of existence.

“So that’s why they kicked me out.” They did not want to spend their Christmas near their most infamous patient for the fourth year in a row. Good for them.

“Well, we kind of asked them if we could try having you home this time around. I mean… I don’t think we’ve ever spend Christmas Eve together like this.”

“So I am not actually well enough to be out. You just took pity on me and decided it was worth risking my health for a stupid party.” And he had the guts to look offended that I said the truth. Even his grin was gone.

“I wouldn’t do anything that risked your life. Not on purpose, anyway.” The bastard was uncomfortable enough to find the back of my hand more interesting than my face. He kept rubbing the red, swollen spot where a needle had been keeping me alive for the weekend.

“Yeah, that’s what I do.”

“You shouldn’t say those things, you know. You almost died three days ago.”

“If I had been that bad I wouldn’t be here now. I would still be in that fucking smelly room with a tube shoved in my throat and more wires over my body than the Harpa on recording day.” At least they had had the decency of keeping me so doped up this time around as to make me unable to remember any of it. Unfortunately for them, I could still remember the last three years very well, so it was a wasted effort.

“Well, yeah… but…”

“My head hurts.” The pain killers must have been wearing off.

“If you take the pills now you’ll probably sleep again.”

“I don’t care. It’s not like I’m missing anything important.”

“Karen and Gísli are cooking a special Christmas dinner for you. They’re really happy that you’re here today.” Still not looking at my face. He knew what I was going to say.

“And they think I feel like eating after spending three days in the hospital?”

“They’re not doing anything big; they know your appetite. But they did more or less sterilise the kitchen and prioritise it over the rest of our food.”

“Too bad for you, then.”

“You could at least thank them later.” The bastard raised an eyebrow, but his head did not move away from my hand.

“I did not ask for any food.” It is their problem if they forgot to ask. It was most likely a plot by Gísli to have Karen for himself and finally confess his undying love for her. Though why he would choose this moment over the other countless opportunities he has had since he was a teenager was anyone’s guess.

“I’ll bring you some pills. You can sleep again if that’s what you like.”

“Yes. I want to sleep all through Christmas and wake up only when it’s time for the New Year Concert.” Or until I did not have to see the replacement anymore, or preferably both.

“Fine. Do as you wish, but when you wake up again, you’ll have to eat something.” He did not even bother to look at me when he left the room. Too bad he was back almost immediately, grinning like the bastard he was. “Oh, and by the way, Doctor Anna said she’ll come for a visit every day after her shift until she thinks you’ve made a complete recovery.”

“So they did throw me out just because it’s Christmas.”

“Yeah, well…” The bastard did not get to finish his speech because Karen called him from downstairs saying he had a phone call. Headache notwithstanding, my moments of solitude were getting almost enjoyable by the time he returned. “Got your pills!”

“Finally. I can take them myself.” If only sitting on the bed did not become such a disastrous task. The world spun around me, and my empty stomach considered projecting its non-existing contents to the nearest wall. Every joint in my body went into the kind of strike where they refuse to move like they were supposed to, but instead produce plenty of pain even when they are not being used.

“Here, I’ll hold your head.” The bastard somehow teleported to my side. Pills were taken, I was finally alone and darkness took over almost immediately.

(...)

“Are you feeling any better now?” Karen started the obligatory questioning barely five minutes after dinner was served. At least she had had the decency of letting me try a spoonful or so of her chicken soup.

“Not really. And I told you not to sit in front of me. I might throw up on your posh dress.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t. Your food is not even that heavy.” She would not be doing that eye-roll if my stomach had already realised there was food inside it again. It should not take long.

“It’s still food. I don’t feel like eating.”

“Maybe we should let him go back to bed. He looks awfully pale.” If I had any capacity to feel emotions I might be pleased that at least Gísli was taking my side. Too bad I was too busy trying not to pass out to care.

“That’s because he hasn’t eaten anything for the whole day.” No, it was because I was still too sick to be out of bed. “He’ll feel better once he eats.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Another spoonful. Any minute now my stomach would realise what was going on. “I’m not paying for any damage.”

“Stop being so pessimistic, Siggi, it’s Christmas!”

“Oh, yay, how could I have forgotten?” I would have to be blind not to notice all the glossy queer Christmas decorations they had spread around the house while I was trying to stay alive in hospital. From naked Jule Lads in creepy sexy poses to grinning Santas showing off their arses, my housemates had made it painfully clear what kind of people they were. At least last years’ dick-shaped Christmas tree stayed in the attic.

“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper one.” The bastard spoke like I actually cared about it. “And speaking of it, tomorrow’s my boyfriend’s birthday.”

“What has that got to do with anything?” There was no need to bring the replacement into this conversation unless the plan was to go from one piece of bad news to something even worse.

“Well, he called earlier today to ask if I wanted to visit him tomorrow to celebrate.”

“Please tell me you said yes.”

“Oh, Siggi, how could I?” The bastard seemed almost offended. His paedophiliac urges were making him even dumber than before. “I told Gunni I was really sorry, that I would love to spend his special day with him, but that unfortunately, my bestest friend in the whole world was going through an awful stage in his life and needed all the support and help I could give him.” He hugged me to prove his point, for some reason forgetting to touch my ass or genitals in the process.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m a great friend, ain’t I?” My answer to the bastard was an eye-roll. “Though I did say I would make it up to him somehow, so he and his family are coming over Wednesday for lunch.”

“What?” With a perfect sense of timing, my stomach realised it had been invaded by foreign nutrients. My answer to my ‘bestest friend’ came in the form of something green staining the tablecloth and his trousers.

“Oh, fuck…” I was somehow conducted to the toilet to finish the spectacle, though everything was spinning far too much to see how that was done. Cold water fell over my head; hopefully I no longer had clothes on.

Bed. The nausea stopped. Though every other feeling surrounding the replacement and the bastard took hold deeper than ever and dominated the fake dreams caused by the mini-pharmacy I had been forced to swallow.

The nightmares never ended.