[PAST]
A smirk lingers on his pink lips, and sharp eyes look at his victim with vicious joy in them. He snickers, spitting blood and wiping his lips.
"Wanna try again?" He asked the man lying on the floor of a club, more precisely somewhere illegal things are must. The man on the floor groans and clutches his torso, and Dean kicks him again, assuming the pain should be greater because he is watching the prey's cries.
"Look, man," Dean says, pointing his finger. "Mind your own business." He snaps his pointer and grits his teeth. "Don't mess with me." He smirks as he approaches the prey's face. "I'll deallocate your face," Dean warns, giving one last punch to the man.
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Dean opens his eyes, heaving loudly as he sits on his white bed. He placed his palm on his chest, feeling the fast pace of its beating. He stepped out of the bed and walked to his bathroom, throwing water on his face and taking a deep breath while holding the sink.
He looks at his reflection, the water gliding down his face and dropping onto the sink. His eyes flicker as he shuts them tightly.
>>Don't think much. Everything is fine now.
He convinced himself and unbuttoned his shirt, and the shirt split into halves, giving a little space to see a scar, more like a thick straight line right at the center of his chest, like a constant reminder of his past life. The line might be straight. His decision, however, was not a straight line. His gaze would be directed at one person, while his words would be directed at another.
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"Yah! Enough drinking." Ethan pushed a glass of vodka away from Dean.
They're in the club, and the loud music didn't stop the older brother from warning his younger brother.
Dean smirks, looking at Ethan with a dizzy mind. "Leave me," Dean mumbles, taking a bottle of whiskey.
"Don't you think you are drinking too much?" Ethan asked, crossing his arms and being very close to losing his calm. Dean ignored his brother and drained the bottle all at once.
"Dee! Are you fucking ignoring me?" Ethan asked, taking a glass and throwing it on the floor. Dean smirks while watching his brother shake his head and walk out with half-opened red eyes.
"Just show off," Dean mumbles, watching the bartender make cocktails.
"Party!" Dean stood up, holding the counter tightly. He hands out a few currency notes, one of which is worth three dollars. He laughs, gives an amount, and rocks towards the dance floor. He trips on his steps and somehow holds himself from falling, stepping on the dance floor with a bright smile.
He begins to jump along with the crowd to the beat. The adrenaline warmed his body. He continues to sing the song. His body sweats as his hair stick to his face. The leather jacket was thrown somewhere as he danced to the rhythm.
Suddenly, he felt his lungs burning. He rubs his chest, looking around with a dizzy mind. He tries to push through the crowd to get fresh air, but he can't push through them. His chest tightened up, and everything turned black and white for him. He felt all the energy leaving his body and was very cold. He slumps on the floor.
"Dee!" Dean glanced at his brother, who was holding his face. "Dee! Dee! Dee---"
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Dean inhales sharply, buttoning his new shirt and combing his hair neatly. He put on his watch and got his sling bag from the bed.
He quickly steps out of his room, smiling at his brother, who is also stepping out of his room at the same time. "Good morning," Dean says to Ethan as they walk alongside each other. Ethan smiled and patted his back. "Morning."
They sat at the dining table, where their father was waiting for them. "Good morning, dad." They exchanged greetings and smiles. Mr. Rayden smiled and gestured for them to sit down.
Dean and Ethan sat next to each other as Dean kept a toast on Ethan's and Mr. Rayden's plates. He flips a plate in front of him, as the seat belongs to his mom, and fills glasses with water, giving it to them.
"I'll fill this jug and be right back," Dean said as he stood up and walked towards the kitchen, greeting his mother along the way.
Mr. Rayden looked keenly at his son and couldn't help but smile. He looks back at his elder son, spreading jam on the toast. "Son," Mr. Rayden calls as Ethan looks up. "I think..." Mr. Rayden returned his gaze to the kitchen."I think Dean,"
"--has changed." Mr. Rayden nods as Ethan finishes his sentence.
"All right, we got our very tasty breakfast," Dean said, holding a container and carefully walking.
"Yes, and your breakfast is this." Mrs. Rayden spoke, showing the plate she was holding. She had only veggies with less spice. Dean sighs, taking his plate and showing his tongue.
"Childish." They all laughed together as Dean punched the spinach with a fork.
Dean walks towards the school, turning down his brother's offer to drive him there. He still remembers the day he joined as clearly as the sun.
[PAST]
Dean sat in front of the principal and department head. He gave his qualifications file to them.
"You don't have a degree in B.Ed." The principal closed his file. "I have clearly mentioned that we need a good teacher with the correct qualifications." The head pushed Dean's file with a smile.
Dean's shoulder slumps as he looks at his degree in architecture. "Sir, I know that you need that degree to be a teacher. However, I do remember reading somewhere that qualifications don't define the ability of a cadet." Dean rises from his seat and takes the file. "Furthermore, I don't believe in marks as they only say; how much someone is good at memorizing things. Few people are great at practical work rather than writing things on paper." Dean keeps the chair back in its place.
"If we believed in marks then, I don't think those millionaire entrepreneurs would exist, as some of them might not have MBAs or other degrees. However, it took great talent and courage to open a company and stand where they are now." Dean finished his words and turned around to exit.
"Wa-wait!" The principal spoke, stopping his movements. The principal shared a glance with the head and slightly nodded his head.
"I'll give you just one chance."
That was enough for Dean to smile brightly and walk back to his place to continue his interview.
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Dean smiled at his colleagues. He bowed to them while keeping his belongings in his cabinet and picking up the notebook and textbooks. He gulps, feeling his chest burn as he rubs the region with his left hand while walking down the corridor.
"I did take my medicine." He murmurs to himself in confusion. He inhales deeply, trying to ease the burning sensation.
[PAST]
"Mr. Rayden," the doctor says, looking at them while inspecting an X-ray of Dean's heart.
when Dean passed out at the club. He was taken right away to the city hospital. While Dean rests, Mr. Rayden and Ethan are seated inside the cabin.
"He has pulmonary hypertension." A doctor explained keeping the x-ray on the screen.
Doc pointed to the right side of the heart and said, "Pulmonary hypertension affects arteries in the lungs and the right side of the heart."
"Now, this has become serious. Because he's in stage 3," As they looked through Dean's report, the doctor said, "I'm concerned the patient neglected their health," said the doctor. The physician closed the paperwork while taking a glance at Elder Rayden and his first son.
The two anticipated what they would see, hoping in their hearts that it would not be too horrible. Dean is only temporarily ill and will soon recover. Probably more than enough medication is required.
The doctor explains as he makes notes on paper: "For now, I may tell the patient not to stress, perform more physical activities, or be tense. A diet high in iron, found in red meat and dark, leafy greens, and vitamin C, found in bell peppers, oranges, tomatoes, and broccoli, can help manage the symptoms of the disease. You should also avoid stimulants like coffee or alcohol, which can cause blood pressure fluctuations."
The doctor handed them the paper without saying anything else for the time being because the senior doctor needed to see positive improvements in the patient or he wouldn't have any other options. "These are a few medicines that he has to take daily without fail," the doctor said.
The Raydens exited the cabin with thanks, as they were deep in thought. Holding the prescription, Ethan walked to his father, who clenched his fist and controlled his rage.
Mr. Rayden snaps, gritting his teeth, "That brat!" Ethan tried to pacify his father by putting his hand on his right shoulder.
"I'll talk to him and explain everything. I'm sure he'll-"
Mr. Rayden glances at his son and asks, "When did he ever listen to us? He remains with us as if he is a paid guest, he offers us nothing in return." Mr. Rayden groaned and shook his head, "Always! always doing as he likes as if we were nothing to him. You know yourself."
Ethan was unable to utter a word. He is still in disbelief over this, and his father is also getting angry. He must gather himself and act responsibly in this circumstance.
"Nevermind, just get those medicines, I'll be with your mom." Mr. Rayden walked away without waiting for a reply. Dean's big brother sighed to himself.
While typing about the news he discovered today in the search engine, Ethan marched toward the chemist. He needs more information about this to help his brother get healthier faster. He will always be his little Dee, no matter how terrible his little brother becomes.
Dean gently opens his eyes while still resting on the hospital bed. He briefly blinks as his throat begins to feel dry. He turns his head to the side and scans the empty area, trying to determine where he is. As he struggles to sit up, his fists on the sheets draw the attention of his mother, who is sitting by the side in deep thought.
Mrs. Rayden says, "Dee," holding Dean's hand and assisting him to sit straight. Dean observed as his mother's eyes became wet as she stared at him.
"Wh-" Dean coughs, feeling as though his lungs are bouncing with each action as his chest grows heavier with each cough. Mrs. Rayden quickly poured a glass of water and placed it on his lips.
"Drink carefully," she says in a low voice, occasionally tipping the glass up. Mr. Rayden was silently watching them from a sofa seat as his arms were crossed. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue while grinning.
With a nod indicating completion, Dean pushes the glass. His mother was watching him anxiously, and his father was furiously glaring at him.
"How did I get here?" Confused, he inquired as to his condition. He was at the club enjoying and jamming to a song, and now he is here?
"You have a disease, kid, nothing more." Mr. Rayden abruptly exits the room and slams the door behind him.
"Disease?" Dean asked his mom to completely comprehend. His mother simply opens and closes her mouth as her eyes are filled with sorrow.
"Mom, you're starting to scare me." Dean gripped her hand as he fixed his gaze on her. As she observes her son lying in a hospital bed, she inhales and chews her lip. She never imagined she would see her son fight for his life right in front of her. He's too young to experience this, isn't he? She made an effort to contain her emotions, but as she ran out of the room, she began to tear up.
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As Dean steps inside the class. He was greeted by the bright smiles of his students. With their enthusiasm, he forgot about his discomfort.
"Submit your homework," Dean said as he watched the kids gather their friends' homework and hand it to Dean.
"Teacher, he is not giving the homework." A boy spoke, pointing his finger at another boy.
Dean narrowed his eyes and walked toward the boy, who was looking at his books with guilty eyes.
Dean noticed the boy's wobbling lips. "Is anything troubling you?" Dean asked, looking at the boy. The little boy looked at Dean through his eyelashes and shook his head.
"Was this homework too much?" The boy again shook his head while biting his lips. Dean nods his head. The class watched the interaction with curious eyes.
"You didn't understand the homework?" Dean asked as the boy finally looked up and whispered, "No." He tried to keep his tears at bay.
Dean quickly dove down and wiped the boy's tears. "What's troubling you?" Dean cups the boy's cheek as the boy bursts into tears.
"Hush," Dean says as he rubs the boy's back, trying to calm him down. The students surrounded their friends and hugged him from all sides. It looked like a group hug while enclosing the boy.
"Mum is not well," the boy said between his hiccups as his fists rubbed his tears. Dean's eyes softened as he nodded his head.
"Is your mom in the hospital?"
"Hos-hospital?"
"Uh, the place where you go when you are not well."
"Yes, dada took mom there."
"Ok, did your dad bring you here?" Dean inquired, his brows itching with concern.
"Yes, dada went back to mom." Dean nodded his head. He got a rough sketch of the situation.
They are most likely a nuclear family. His mother became ill, and his father is caring for both his wife and his child. It must be difficult for a working man.