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I'm still shaken by what could get somebody this badly banged up and he still has the nerve to say it's just a scratch.

Just a scratch my ass, death is tekateking next to him and he's making himself a starring.

It's horrible, that dimpled face is all swollen, bruised and covered in blood-- some fresh, some crusted-- body all black and blue with cuts and blood as well..

What the hell happened? How does such even happen?

I don't even know what to say to him, how to react, we're not cordial enough for me to enquire about what in the fuck happened to him. I don't know where that boundary lies, were it Zayn then yeah I'd jump into immediate action but this one... how.. what am I supposed to do?

His face is swelling more and I worry about that more than I worry the dark purple on marring his right ribside. He might lose a few marbles from a hit to the head, or die. I'm good with either, he's an ass.

Yet I find myself getting one of the chairs from the other side and having him sit before he keels over right in front of me.

He groans in immense pain as he takes a seat, he tries to hide it but there's no hiding this... looking like you got hit by a train and six busses...

"Should I call anyone for you? An ambulance?" I dare offer against my better judgment.

"No, don't call anyone," He grimaces feeling his back with his fingers.

What does he mean?

It's just me and him in this big black suite and I'm not a doctor. This is nothing like my baby being sick or my mom's condition, I have enough

enough experiencing dealing with those but I've never had to watched a man die.

My breath is shaky from the shock I'm keeping from taking me completely over, "You should definitely see a doctor though," He's a mess I'm not sure I can help with.

"I told you it's just a scratch," But he's grimacing and clutching his side in pain.

I'm dying to know what caused this damage, he doesn't strike me as the man to go around starting fights. He looks like the sort to pay other people to take the punch for him.

"Your nose seems broken," There's blood there as well.

"Wouldn't be the first time," He feels around his nose with his fingers before returning to his ribs.

"And at the very least you bruised your ribs."

"It's more of a dull ache, you get used to it."

That's a no to getting any help then and a yes to me going to jail since he's a rich, white man and I'm a poor, black girl... I'm the prime suspect.

"Look, I just need a couple of painkillers and a shower," His voice is strained, "You just go about... your day."

He gets up, fumbles. Almost trips. And catches himself right before I can.

I flinched into his personal space, so close I can feel his ragged breath through his chest.

Just as quickly I move back and set about putting my trembling hands to good use... I'm scared he'd just switch off any second, he'd be dead if he fell just now. He really looks that bad.

The least I can do is get him a cloth and drench it with vinegar-- I snooped through the cupboards long ago, I know what's where.

That nose doesn't look good and I'm afraid of blood clots choking him in his sleep so I offer him the help once again.

"Here," I hold the cloth, "Hold it to your nose over the sink, don't tilt your head back..."

He looks at my nervous face then at my trembling hands holding the dripping cloth out to him.

He looks at my face again and something seems to resolve in him at what he must see there, he takes the cloth without any arguments and any lingering side looks.

"Also maybe get some thick steam going in the shower to open up your lungs," Couldn't hurt.

He's standing skew, clutching his ribs like some Van Damme, all bruised and bloodied.

I didn't prepare for this today, I'm exhausted to the teeth and I was hoping for quiet, eventless day like the ones I used to have before I met these people.

Mr Sin turns back to me as serious as ever, "Zayn doesn't need to know about this--"

"I think he should."

"And I think this is where you stop sticking your nose and I mean it," His tone is sharp and cutting, "He's my family, I'll deal with it.."

I'm going to trip him I swear, I'm going to put my foot out when he steps and make him crash. Just one little fall and he'll be done the condescending asshat.

I purse my lips and look him up because who the hell does this man think he is? Does he think he shits ice cream? I don't understand.

I know Zayn is his family, just like I know thinks I'm using Zayn as an escape.

"If that's what you want Mr Sin," I smack my lips.

He snorts and says, "I set a boundary, you get your feelings hurt."

"Well with all due respect, it's not the boundary but the way you set it. There are a million ways to tell me to not tell Zayn you look like a bag of shit especially when I'm just trying to help," I didn't throw him out the window so I guess I'm getting fired instead.

I watch his tall body lean against one of the chairs on the other side for support. He can't even hold himself up but it's a scratch... mxm.

His honey glare intensifies through swollen eyes-- I'm definitely fired now.

I still don't know what deal he has with brother regarding me and I don't know what's holding it together so I know nothing about its fragility or longetivity--

Where do I step? What do I not say?

Zayn's a sweet heart for what he's done but they're brothers at the end of the day, I'm just a cleaning girl hired by his... Brie.

"I never asked for your help, you came in here and couldn't mind your own business as per usual," He grits his teeth, "I don't have the energy to nurse your feelings and I did tell you to could go about your day."

I should've listened instead of trying to be a decent human being I guess.

"And since I don't trust you to not tell Zayn about this, you'll be coming with me--"

"Askies?" I blurt on reflex.

"-- Until your shift is over, I doubt you'll keep your mouth shut. I don't trust you with Zayn so I'll be keeping an eye on you," That he can say clearly, "Now come on, I'm going to shower first."

"Mr Sin, I don't think--"

"Again, I didn't ask what you think, did I?" He cuts me off impatiently, "I said come."

I fold my arms and raise my eyebrows because I know he's not ordering me around in that tone.

He starts leaving but I don't follow. I said come ya kunuka.

"What is it now?" He stops but doesn't turn back.

I say nothing.

Now he turns, annoyed and in pain, "If you knew how I'm feeling you would stop messing about and follow me," It's clear I made him angry, "Or you think the little game you and Zayn are playing means you don't have to listen to me?"

I still don't trust to not worsen this so I keep quiet and just look at him limp and cringe about.

But his undivided attention on me is something I don't like, he never has anything nice to say and having to keep calm on the receiving end is torture.

He walks back over without the limping and hissing. Comes to a stop right in front of me, looks and sighs.

"You know the thing that annoys me the most about you--"

Okay, that I did not see coming.

".. is how you have your little nose in the air, you seem to think you're better than everyone else and have this picture in your head of what you are and that it somehow makes you better than your current circumstance... it doesn't."

Shitted on three days in a row... I'm taking verbal hits this week, it seems.

"Now, people like my brother will blow smoke up your butt because you're pretty with big hair and they'll feed your delusions of grandeur but I'm going to do you a favour and tell you..."

I'm arms folded and calmly listening to this man talk out of his ass about me, to me and I'm starting to think money is not enough to keep me around this disrespect.

He doesn't know the first thing about me so I'm not particularly offended on that front, it's just the audacity for me.

He doesn't seem so wounded anymore what with his eyebrows drawn together in pure hate, "You are exactly what you are because of who you are and that's all you'll ever be. It'll never get better and you'll never get better. Now from the moment you step on my elevator and come up here where I pay you to be then you do what you're told... any little thing you have with my brother that lets you think you can get out of doing so.. well, I dare you."

He seems to be hating me more than usual today, and that's only from getting him a chair and cloth. There's absolutely nothing right that I do in his eyes and he can't stand me.

I can't stand to be insulted around every corner, I have my own shit there's only so much of other people's I can take.

I can figure something else out, I don't need this job at the sacrifice of me. I don't need this.

But I stopped being an I a long time ago, I don't just have myself to think about anymore. There's a bunch of them sitting on my shoulders and if I go down, they drown.

I have to keep my head about water.

My face betrays none of my thoughts and I watch his relax as much as it can through bumps and blood.

He relaxes and takes a step back, "We're clear then? Good, let's go..if I'm not horizontal in the next ten minutes I'll cough my spleen up."

So to sum it all up, Zayn's promise protects me from shit as I suspected. Zayn's probably threatened a reprocration but this is a man of instant gratification and since consequences are always after the fact, I don't think he gives a fuck about those... they never stop him from doing what he wants.

I follow him to his bedroom, my friends will kill me if they find out but I get paid Friday-- it's just two more days and I'm not coming in tomorrow.

After that I'll figure out my next move because I'm not sticking around for this condescending little rich shit and I'm not going to be fucked around with by him or anyone else.

I use the moment to check in with Mam'Ntombi, I haven't talked to her this morning. Since I left her on the bench with Mam'Noni.. there's still also her lecture about Lebone waiting for me when I get home.

"Alright, I'm going to-- what're you doing?"

"Checking in with my mother."

"No," He slips my phone out my hands and straight into his pocket.

Now I'm ready to add to his head injuries, I scowl at him with my most hateful glare.

"I'm going to shower quick, you chair," Then he just leaves...

Never mind that I'm pissed, never mind how many boundaries he himself is crossing. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

Nothing in my life prepared for sitting in my boss's room while he showers... waiting for him. I think we can all agree that this is odd... and he just took my phone... what's to do in such a situation?

I take a seat on one of big chairs by the naked window, right on the edge with my leg tapping, I try to think of a way to get out of this.

I won't tell Zayn, I'll mind my own business and he'll die alone sure but I can't be in a bedroom with him. It's suspect in a way, always seems like more than it actually is and I shouldn't need to point out but I will--I have never been alone in a bedroom with any of my bosses before.

Nothing like this has ever happened to me and I think this is where the slum girl in me asks herself what in the fuck I got myself into here....I just had to clean, that's it..

Now I'm up in the sky and there's a white man coming out of the bathroom looking like lazaro, and I haven't come up with a plan to get out of here.

My spine immediately straightens when he's walks in with a glass of water and a bottle of pills. I'm on defense mode on instinct.

How does he just fill a room like that?

His bruises look even worse now that they're clean, it's violet, navy blue, black, red and there's yellowing... his face.. jehova..

"You should see the other guy," He says, barely glances at me and heads to his night where he takes an alarming amount of the pills, a handful of the things, then carefully lies down on his black bed--

Coincidentally he's wearing a black t-shirt probably one of his Maison Margiela's-- yeah I snooped,he's also black track pants and black socks. And his wet hair is black.

He lies on his back and I'm on the edge of a surprisingly cosy chair for an architectural aesthetic piece but I'm not comfortable, I don't know what to do but this can't be right.

"What?" His voice cuts down my thoughts.

I don't say anything.

He sighs loudly, "I can hear you thinking from here, just say it."

"Well... I don't think this is appropriate... I'm not comfortable, I don't know what to do..."

"Not talking to Zayn is what you're doing," He responds, "Now might as well settle in, the room is spinning."

The fuck?

"Mr Sin--"

"I think we stopped the Mr Sin business when you decided to dress up for my brother," He has a habit of interrupting me.

"Regardless of my friendship with your brother, this just feels invasive..."

"Calm down, if anything were to happen to you it wouldn't happen today."

What's that supposed to even mean?

"I just... need to breathe," He says breathing loudly and tiredly.

He just took a shit load of painkillers and heavy hits to the head, him sleeping my not be a good idea right now... but I don't care, he pretty much told me to act my wage and stay in my lane so he's well being is a none of my business.

He dies, he doesn't, I'll go fight for my life court it's fine.

I just need him to fall asleep so I can get my phone from his pocket and get out of here to tie my brain around this. How would I begin to explain this to my mother?

I don't even want to think of how everyone else would spin it.

"Since you aren't going to keep quiet," He says with a grimace, "Tell me why you haven't quit?"

"Do you think I'm scared of you?" I don't know where that comes from.

"Come again?" He's as far away as he sounds.

I think my words over clearly and yeah, I'm wondering who this guy thinks he's dealing with..

I smack my lips and settle into the chair, "Humour me..."

There's a very long pause but this time I'm not afraid I'll be fired, this time I'm more nervous of the current situation than I am of losing my job.. which is saying something.

I hate him more than I'm scared of going broke.

"Well," He says heavily after a long while, "I think you're not scared of anyone, and that's the problem."

I want to know how that's a problem from but that's not the direction my thoughts head, I know his mountain of pain killers are starting to settle in good now.

"So this thing you do, where you talk to me all kinds of sideways? What's that about?"

"Why? Because I don't fawn and fall at your feet like every other guy?"

"If guys were falling at my feet, do you think I'd be here taking your shit?"

"Yeah actually," His speech is slower and slower, "I think you're the type to push people away for no reason, the type of woman... who thinks she has to carry the rest of the world on her shoulders... even if she herself can barely keep her head above water."

What am I doing?

What was I even thinking? I can't lose this job, all my other tenders don't pay nearly as much as this especially after the raise Zayn procured. I can't leave here until I have find something better--

I can't let my feelings get the better if me, I have people counting on me.

I don't say anything for a while, I just watch his chest move up and down alarmingly slow. He's a quarter to death and stubborn with it.

But I still do instead on leaving as soon as he's out, he asked for it mos so I just need to get my cellphone-- it's in his pocket. I'd have to get to close to him and that's more risk of getting caught, I have no idea what he'll do if he catches me trying to run away.

"Yet again," He turns on his side, "You seem like the type to make bad decisions and blame everyone."

I don't even care about that, he's new position has my phone peeking out of his pocket. It's fate.

Now I just settle I'm and wait for his breath to even as the pain killers knock him out good, from there it's a matter of being quiet...

.

.

.

Soft ringing somewhere, I don't know where, I'm in a dark peaceful haze. My body is heavy but my head is light, and I don't want it to end.

But the soft ringing get louder and louder, until my eyes are sorely blinking open.

It takes a moment to look around and figure out when, where and what I am. My head is still fuzzy and the inside of eyelids feels very sandy.

The room is radiating in red sunlight and muted ceiling lights. I look to my right and see right through the wall already setting.

I'm still up in the sky... still in the city.

Fuck. Me.

I passed out before I could get my cellphone and leave.

It's getting dark outside and I'm still curled up in my boss's chair, I'm not dropping shit as long as he pays me he's my boss.

He's half up against his headboard, passed out as well. He moved then?

The space on the bed next to him has an open first aid box and is a mess of bloody bandages and gauzes, even the latex gloves next to him are covered in blood.

My phone starts ringing that very loud monophonic melody, and it's coming from his bed, somewhere under the mess of bandages.

The only that comes to mind is my mother, the sun is down and I'm usually long home by now. I didn't even talk to her this morning this man kept me occupied.

I don't know what the hell is happening here today, all I know is that I need to go home.

As carefully and quickly as I get to the bed, pull some latex gloves on first before I touch anything else-- I had to take a free class when my mom got really sick and we were taught how to handle blood... this one is a big bulking hazard right now.

His injuries must've been way more worse than he was letting on and he did first aid on himself? While I was snoring in the chair not even 5 metres from him...

My stomach tenses with nervous energy as soon as I hear him stir. Suddenly my head just heats up.

"You don't have to do," His voice is deep and scratchy.

"I'm not doing it, I'm just looking for my phone," I'm as annoyed as I sound.

I'm not clearing this, I'm just wearing gloves because you don't touch blood open handed simple as that.

"It's getting dark, I'll call you a car," He offers with a frown when he gets up.

I scoff derisively, "Is your car gonna get me all the way to Ivory?"

"Isn't that in the city?"

"No, Mr Sin, I don't stay in the city."

He gets up to his feet and starts clearing up his mess. He picks up a couple of long bloody bandages and under a surprisingly clean one is my phone.

But I still pick it up with gloves, drop it in my pocket. Then I dispose of the gloves and decide to wash my hands at the back.

"Have a nice night," I turn and leave without saying another look.

"Look, it's late. Don't be stupid," His voice follows me down the hall.

Stupid? Oh he can kiss my fat black ass.