Even before he opened his eyes, a wave of drowsiness already crashed inside his head. His body was anchored to the bed with fatigue. He was freezing but his heart burned with fury at Allen.

Nevertheless, his brain knew he needed something to eat. He pushed himself out of his bed and got up. He took a step forward and idle alcohol bottles stumbled to the ground like bowling pins. Clinking sounds echoed throughout his lonely apartment and only stopped when he opened his refrigerator.

Several take-out containers greeted him with big smiles. He greeted them back as the cool air touched his burning skin. He blindly took a container and placed it in the microwave. He looked back at his room and fell into a daze. The sunlight from the drawn curtains refracted in the fallen bottles and formed a beautiful sea of sparkles.

"Wow," he said in awe, dazzled by the spectacle before his eyes.

He licked his lips and swallowed a lump of thirst. Then, out of nowhere, just like magic, a delicious and mouth-watering aroma brushed his nose. His eyes blew out as they scanned the room for its source. And when he found it, he did not dare question it. A feast was laid out on his bed while a sexy Allen placed another dish on his bed. Allen caught him gazing at the meal and a teasing smile found its way on Allen's lips. Which Andrew found so attractive.

"I am passionate about cooking," he said. "I am motivated to make my dreams come true."

His words and the food spread out on the bed made Andrew's legs move on their own. He dashed towards the food and their chef. But the next thing he knew, his eyes had just opened and the bright fluorescence from his ceiling light blinded him. He glanced at his window and realized it was already dark. He also noticed that windows were drawn, and a cooling pad was stuck on his forehead.

He rolled to his side and immediately noticed the absence of the alcohol bottles that used to litter his apartment floor. There was also a bucket of water beside his bedside and a used wipe cloth hanging on it.

Panic was about to take over his mind but stopped short when another aromatic scent emanated from the kitchenette on his narrow hallway. Someone was boiling something delicious. Was it curry? No, congee? Cream of mushroom? This someone also cleaned his apartment. It was spotless. Too spotless like some freak obsessed with cleanliness and perfection. A man of similar values popped into Andrew's recovering mind. He chuckled from the absurdity of it all. Allen in his small apartment? Cleaning? What a bunch of shenanigans.

He sat up on his bed with a groan. "Oliver? How did you know I was sick?"

No response aside from the dropping of a spatula. Maybe it was Sonna. He was about to call out her name when Allen appeared from thin air. He wore an apron over his suit minus the coat, and his sleeves were rolled up.

"Oliver?" he asked, annoyed. "Does he frequent your apartment? If he does, why has he never cleaned your filthy room? He is useless—Why are you getting up? You should not exert yourself. I said stop moving!"

Andrew's feet were barely touching the floor and Allen was already marching towards him with a furious glare. Allen coerced Andrew into lying down again.

"Stay down. I am going to get your temperature." A pause and he asked, "Why are you raising your arm?"

"You said you were going to get my temperature."

"That's right. So, why the arm raise?" Allen took out a thermometer gun.

"Last time I checked you weren't a doctor. Why do you have one of those things and not the one where you stick the thing on your mouth or armpit?"

"I asked Sonna to purchase all the supplies I needed while I cleaned your apartment. I am confident she bought one for the whole team, but I do not mind."

Andrew watched his boss ponder over him. He replaced his cooling patch and re-arranged his bed, so Andrew was more comfortable. Allen scanned over Andrew until he felt satisfied with his work. He got up, checked the pot, and went back to cleaning.

"What happened? Why are you here?" Andrew asked, baffled.

Usually, it would be Sonna or Oliver, and not his overlord boss.

"When Sonna had informed the team that you were sick. I rushed as soon as I could." Allen flashed a teasing smile. "You're not the only one who can reschedule my meetings... Well, I was informed it involved a lot of begging and sweating for the team, but it was worth it. Because when I arrived. There was a burning carton of egg in the microwave, and my secretary was drooling all over his bed whilst burning with a fever."

That was the longest time Allen had ever spoken outside of a presentation. Mrs. Lopez was right. Allen was becoming more talkative and temperamental.

"Why did you clean?"

"I want you to recover quickly. You won't be able to in such an unsanitary environment."

Andrew glanced past Allen's shoulder. "What are you cooking?"

"I'm cooking your favorite soup since you're sick," said Allen with a proud smile. "Cream of mushroom. Do not even deny that it is not your favorite. You always order the same soup every time it is on the menu. I think it's ready. Let me fetch you some." Allen got up and headed for the kitchenette.

As Andrew watched Allen's retreating back. Luiz's words echoed inside Allen's mind. I think my brother likes you.

Andrew called him.

Allen turned around. His eyes darted from one side to another, but after a moment, he looked into Andrews's eyes.

"Do you see me as more than your secretary?"

A pause, a quiet moment that seemed to last forever.

"Of course." The corner of Allen's lips quirked. "We are friends, are we not? Now, stop chatting and I'll prepare your dinner."

"How 'bout as more than friends?"

A gentle breeze pushed the curtains into a flutter, it prevented Andrew from seeing Allen's expression before he turned his back to Andrew. The whistle of the pot, the moan of the wind, and the flapping of the curtain were all that answered Andrew's hanging question.

Andrew was irked that Allen chose to ignore him. He was about to throw his cup at Allen when Mr. and Mrs. Lopez came in through the door. Three pairs of eyes darted from Allen to Andrew's expression, to the cup he was about to throw like a baseball towards their eldest son.

"Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?"

Mrs. Lopez ignored Allen and elbowed him out of the narrow hallway. She made a beeline for Andrew. Her worried eyes scanned his whole body accompanied by her invasive hands. This family has a problem with personal space.

She brought an expensive-looking plastic bag filled with an assortment of medicine. There were vitamins, supplements, and other unnecessary stuff for a cold. Andrew's eyes glanced at a similar plastic bag brought by his son.

"Mrs. Lopez? Andrew held Mrs. Lopez's hands in his grasps to stop it from venturing down south of his body. "Why are we being blessed by your presence?"

"How can I not come when my son is down with ailments," she wailed in despair. "Do not worry, son. I have called the best doctor money could buy. I know what I am doing. Let's cool down your body first." She then fished out boxes of cooling pads from her bag.

Mr. Lopez interjected her panicked meddling. "I don't think that's necessary dear. Please forgive her, Alfonso. She panicked when we heard that Allen was going ballistic in the office because you were ill. You should have witnessed how he snapped at anyone who prevented him from leaving. He was basically a wild caveman without you."

Mrs. Lopez shot Allen a frustrated glare. "Why are there no doctors here? Have you no shame? Your beloved is down trotted with ailment and there are no doctors here."

"I already called for one," Allen mumbled. "The doctor already left an hour ago with his stamp of approval. Besides, I am about to serve dinner. Please leave so we can eat in peace."

Mrs. Lopez waved him off. When Allen was out of sight, she took out a thick, wrapped burger from her bag and slid it under Andrew's bedsheet. She winked and said under her breath, "The internet has told me that sick children should be spoiled with meals they usually are not allowed to have."

She bent closer to Andrew. "I caught a glimpse of dish Allen was preparing. I assume you will not have a full stomach with Allen's cooking. Please do not get me wrong, I love my son, but it looked too pale and bland and healthy, right dear?"

Mr. Lopez crouched alongside his wife and nodded. "Eat that burger now and chew silently. I'll distract him, but how?" He twisted his head and scanned the room. His eyes landed on Andrew's in-wall closet by the opposite end of the room. Mr. Lopez slid open Andrew's closet and an assortment of business suits greeted him. Mr. Lopez took them by his arms, unhung them, and threw them on the floor with a loud crash.

"Oh dear, what have I done?" Mr. Lopez called Allen and pulled him to the floor. They started sorting the mess Mr. Lopez had made. He glanced behind him and shot Andrew a wink. With Allen busy, Mrs. Lopez unwrapped the burger and fed it to Andrew.

"Here, son."

Andrew froze. Funny how memories work. They get buried deep in time and they never resurface again. You go through life without getting a glimpse, yet one simple word can undo years of work.

"Can you please stop calling me son?"

"You don't like it?"

"It's what my dad would call me before he used me as a punching bag, so please don't use it."

She nodded. Her eyes were empathetic. "I apologize. I won't, Alfonso."

Andrew did not respond. Though he unhinged his jaw to take a bite. He looked from Mr. Lopez to her, wanting to speak but couldn't articulate his thoughts. A brief silence settled between them. Though it was not a stilted pause. They were just both examining each other's boundaries.

"Are we being a bother?" she asked as she held the burger again.

"Not at all," Andrew looked down. He took a bite and pondered on his words. "It's just... It's been a long time since I've had a parent is all. I'm not used to having someone dot over me or being someone's child for that matter. Weird thing to say I know."

"I'm also not accustomed to being a parent just yet, so please bear with me as I take my baby steps into parenthood. I have always regretted my absence in the lives of Allen and Luiz, but I am trying now. Why don't we learn together? With us."

There was a hopeful gleam in her eyes that bore into Andrew's chest. He wished he could be cruel. He wished he didn't recognize the void in their family she was desperately trying to fill. He knew them both before their change of heart. This forced jolliness she was imposing on herself was admirable yet painful to watch for Andrew.

"Sure," Andrew replied. It was only one word and yet it brought out such a beautiful smile in Mrs. Lopez's aged face. The relief she exuded as her shoulders sagged was palpable.

"Thank you," she said as brushed Andrew's hair with delicate fingers. She combed through them with ease and comfort. "For being here—being with my son. I know he is not the easiest person to love or to be with, but here you are right beside him. And I have never seen him so happy and devoted. But enough of that. I need to ask you a favor before I forget."

"You need my help?"

"Yes. You have mentioned that our family photo was...not the best. And you are right. That photo was a time I would like to replace. So, I would like to ask you to be with us when taking a new one."

Andrew nodded as he took another bite of the burger. "No problem. Do you need someone to choose a location or some logistics I can help with?

Mrs. Lopez was taken aback. She chuckled. "You misinterpreted me, son. I am not inviting you not to assist us, but to be with us."

"Like a chaperone?"

"No, son. You will be joining us for the photo."

There was a brief pause before Andrew's feverish brain comprehended her words. And once it did, the piece of burger he took a bite off got stuck in his windpipe.

"Alfonso!"