Better Not Be Love

CHAPTER 3 - NEW ROOMMATE

"I'd rather look like a zombie."

I stated, while her manager and stylist followed closely behind us while we walked.

"Me too."

Carla acknowledged it frankly, and I smirked at her genuineness.

We discussed the shoot until we arrived at the enormous tent that served as our makeshift meeting space, when I saw that half the seats were already occupied. Fortunately, we arrived on time.

I was assigned a spot next to Nathaniel, and the producer seated himself beside me. The huge rectangular table was set with script printouts, water bottles, and steaming mugs of tea. I contacted one of the helpers and asked for a cup of coffee instead.

The following two hours sped by with script reading and setting up a rough timetable for the next week, and by the end, I was starving.

"Thank you for your effort, everyone. The meeting is dispersed."

Nathaniel started to gather his papers and rose to his feet, joined by the rest of us. When the tent began to clear, I pulled out my phone and saw three missed calls from Lorraine, along with two messages.

'I am sorry I didn't wake up. (Perplexed emoji)'

'There is food on the table. Brenda and I are out shopping. I need some sunscreen!'

Brenda was Carla's stylist, and from what I have heard, she was not bad company. I headed back to our house after responding to her texts and giving her permission to take the day off.

On the way, I ran across a few crew members and actors and spared a moment to exchange pleasantries. I was about halfway through when I noticed a small crowd gathered near a tree. They were primarily locals, and I approached them out of curiosity.

I stood on my heels to get a clear view, and after I saw the sight, my heart tightened in pain. There were a half-dozen puppies close to the tree, all of which were dead.

"It's a shame none of them survived."

I heard a random person say, but the voice seemed more distant than it should have. My thoughts were preoccupied with Happy, my very first puppy. He died when I was ten, and it was my first encounter with death. The unexpected surge of recollections was intense, and I hardly noticed one of the puppies' small movements at first.

My thoughts jolted back into focus as I once again glanced at the pile hesitantly. I was right. Hastily bending down, I separated a dead puppy's head from the live one cautiously. It was barely breathing, and I glanced frantically at the group.

"We need to take it to the hospital."

"I will take the car."

I am not sure who said it, but I wasn't in the mood to find out. My heart was racing as I trailed behind the individual. It was just a dog. Why was I getting so worked up?

For the next fifteen minutes, I cradled the pup close to my chest in the passenger seat of a stranger's car, hoping to keep it warm.

"Don't die just yet. Not when you've been given a second chance."

I could hear myself talking to the scarcely breathing creature, and most of the time, I made little sense. Thankfully, the driver was calm and said nothing. The female voice of Google Maps was the only speaker other than me, and soon we were at the clinic. I hurried inside, not caring if I should have made an appointment.

"He is dying."

The receptionist was a native, and I was convinced that she didn't grasp what I was saying, but the dog in my arms and the concern in my eyes were enough for her to comprehend what was happening. She snatched the little bundle from my hands and dashed inside. I didn't follow her and instead sat outside, praying for the best.

It took nearly thirty minutes for the receptionist to emerge from the other room, and as she approached me, a young male doctor who was removing his gloves followed her. He spoke to me, but I didn't understand a word.

"I don't get it."

I said, gesturing with my hands to let him know that I didn't speak his language.

A figure walked in beside me, and I turned around to see the guy who drove me here. Was he with me this whole time?

While I was desperate to know if the animal had survived, I refrained from interfering as he started speaking to the doctor in flawless Thai. He must have sensed my worry, because he shifted his gaze to me for a second and nodded enthusiastically before returning to his conversation with the doctor.

I released a shaky breath and asked if I could go inside and see the animal. The guy translated, and the doctor gave me a green light. I thanked him briefly and rushed inside.

The puppy was sleeping quietly on a table covered with a paper towel. He had a tube linked to his leg and looked much better than he had previously.

"You made it."

I sat down next to the table and closely inspected the living thing.

"Ha, what shall we call you? Brave? Considering how courageous you were and how hard you battled for your life?"

His paw made a little movement as if to agree with my suggestion, and I watched him in amusement.

"Brave it is."

......................

We were ready to leave two hours later, and the doctor handed me a slip of paper. I assumed it was the bill at first, but it was simply a note.

'I paid the bill. I've got an emergency. The doctor will drive you back. He is familiar with the location.'

I felt horrible for not properly thanking him and for not even asking his name. For the sake of God, I couldn't even recall his face, with the mask and all.

I thanked the doctor with hand signals after he handed me a modest basket to put Brave in. Once we arrived back at my place in the evening, Lorraine shrieked after meeting her new roommate.

"I left you for a few hours, and look who you brought home."

She joked while caressing Brave.

That night, I did all I could to remember the guy's face, but I simply couldn't. The only details I knew were that he was tall.... and nice...

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