Jesus Christ, someone goddamn shot him!
Someone'd better hold me back, otherwise I might just hurt someone. Probably myself, but not necessarily.
I've set him up as best as I can in the spare room - he wouldn't let me give him my bed. Probably for the best, as it's not the tidiest room known to man.
God only knows how I'm gonna explain the gunshots to the neighbours tomorrow.
Hang on a minute - since when have I cared what the goddamn neighbours think? And I'm not about to start now, believe me.
But thank God he came. For a moment, I didn't think he would. I mean, it's not as if he likes me, or anything. No one really likes me. I know that. I shout too much, I swear too much, I'm too... I'm not feminine enough. I...
I used to try pretty hard to be liked. Try to fit in with the popular crowd. And, needless to say, it didn't work. Now my bro - he's got the knack. He's, well, not exactly popular, but... I dunno. He's liked, respected, and all that.
All my attempts at marshaling respect just make people dislike me more.
And until now, I didn't really care.
But now, listening to him breathing in the other room, and having to physically hold myself down so I don't go to him, I realise I do care. Goddammit, I care a lot.
I hope he's okay. Yeah, sure, Charlie, he's fine. He's just been shot. I'm sure he's just dandy.
Jesus, sometimes I think I'm an idiot.
But thank God he did come. Otherwise I'd've been full of more holes than a slice of Emmental cheese. I wonder if anyone would've liked me any more if I had been shot. Everyone likes a dead person. They always suddenly come up with a million things that were good about that person.
Suddenly it hits me. X-Rej. It must've been them.
And that man who called me? He said something about... About keeping quiet.
And the only two people who knew anything were me and...
Me and him.
'Tea, or coffee?'
I'm trying to act normal, like having a guy as amazing as David in my house is an everyday occurance.
He's sitting up in bed, hair a bit messy from such a hectic night, green eyes less sparkly than usual. I expect that's the pain. Jesus, I feel so guilty.
'Why won't you let me call a goddamn ambulance?' I mutter, averting my eyes from him quickly and turning to leave. I don't want him to think I'm staring. God, this is embarrassing.
'No, Charlie, wait.'
It sounds so good to hear him say my name. Oh, get a grip, Charlie!
'It's not safe for you here.'
'Oh, really?' I say sarcastically. Dammit, I didn't mean to say that out loud.
I catch his eye out of the corner of my own, and I see laughter there.
And suddenly, the whole situation seems so ridiculous. And we burst out laughing.
Later, we'll go to the hospital, get David sorted out, and everything will be back to normal. He'll be Mendrick again, I'll just be me again, unpopular me, and nothing will have changed.
Except how I feel. Inside me, everything's changed.
Jesus, I wish it'd changed for him, too.
But maybe he likes me enough to be a... a sort-of... friend. Not that I've got many of those. I'm sure Harrison thinks I'm a bit... unladylike. And Hart... Well, I don't really know what he thinks of me, but I don't think he really likes anyone, let alone me.
But maybe Da- I mean, Mendrick. Maybe Mendrick likes me enough to just... I don't know. I'm all lost when it comes to him.
So I just stand here and laugh. And enjoy the moment.
Because I know it'll end all too soon.