Jo noticed he was in a place he hadn't seen for a while. He could tell since it was the home he grew up in and his family was polite and loving. The domestic abuse that plagued his familial life seemed impossible to fathom with how genuine and caring his parents acted around each other.

Hot damn. Take it slow, Faith...

Why should I take it slow when you feel so good, Dave?

He snatched her fingers to give it a mild squeeze in the dark. It's just that you're so tight down there even after all these years...

Well, that's the kind of things I'm willing to do for you. And maybe I should slow down for your sake. Looks like you struggle to handle me being on top still.

That's probably why I love you. Dave took a moment to stare at the place they became one. Even more so where it matters most.

Jo's mom had to chortle at this. They were normally quiet during sex, but Jo could often hear them. Their moans, grunts and conversations were far from inaudible as he tried to sleep in his shared bed, and the same could be said for some of his siblings.

Regardless, the tone of it felt so different to what he heard when both were alive. They came off as passionate and gentle, indicating they were in love with each other. To him, a couple that despised one another would never do what his parents were doing.

Whenever he would walk through the trailer during the day, it unnerved him on how clean it looked. Small things like being conscious of where they threw their trash, to bigger things like the frequent wiping of all hard surfaces with a cloth and some spray cleaner had made it unlike the place he had known since birth. Even his father shaved his unibrow, giving him regular eyebrows like everyone else.

This was far from the grotesque scenes of his mother and father being coated in the thickest and vilest of blood while continuing their promiscuity, to his regular and abnormal siblings standing in a circle around their parents before killing each other with knives, stools, snapped table legs and whatever else they could get their hands on.

And worst of all, his best friend would appear into this disgusting scene with her voice.

Every insult and curse word she spoke echoed throughout, breaking him down until tears came. While in this deep sorrow, his family either did not care or couldn't hear Celia's despicable words. None of this would enable a pause to their feral acts, reiterating the stereotype of them as freaks and sub-humans.

The environment transformed again into the trailer he and Celia now lived in. They stood opposite of each other as she became infuriated to tell him they could not be friends anymore. The shock of this was so big, his eyes raced open for a ceiling of florescent lights to stare at him and to see a clean bed with soft sheets that had the smell of fabric softener.

Taking a whiff of it, he realised it was similar to the fresh apple pie his mom used to make. There was a window to his left, a chest of drawers with a vase full of flowers and water on top, the same tick tock wall clock that watched him go to sleep, and a table to his immediate right where a cup of water was placed. Drywall and tiles were as consistent here as they were in every part of the health centre. However, something was off about his pillow. He touched it, finding out it brought moisture to his fingertips.

His hair was also wet from this unknown moisture. With no towels nearby to dry them, he stretched towards the table to press the red button on the pager to activate its two-way communication.

After listening to every word that came out the speaker, a nurse with raggedy, purple hair and tattoos from the neck down worthy of a rebellious rock n' roll artist came in to hand Jo a towel.

"Here. You seem to appear better than before."

"Thanks." Jo took it from her while coming to terms on how it felt. He decided that whatever it was made from was high quality.

"I see you have manners. That's rather respectable."

The lovecraftian oddities that decorated her skin didn't match her friendliness, meaning she wasn't as rude like some in her occupation. This got Jo to ask her to pull the short curtains. Her doing so would allow some sunlight.

As she did this, he noticed the nurse turned to lock eyes with him. Jo wondered if something was on his face only for her to indicate something near his cheeks. He became uneasy and perplexed as she took the towel and continued her longing look. To douse his budding confusion, she said this with the most gentle of tones:

Because the morning light makes you so innocent.

The whispers of the nurse warmed his heart even as the guards that came in with her watched them. She grabbed a mirror from a drawer beneath the clock to show the soft hues caressing his face and his tears shimmer like diamonds. The view of himself was so beautiful, he cried in her arms for more than five minutes. It took many pleas to change his mood so she could wipe his eyes and cheeks.

When the nurse was done, she called for a guard to open the door for her. After exiting, Jo heard a knock. The guard moved swift to open it for the same nurse to poke her head through. "I forgot to tell you something, young man. Your friend told me to inform you she's here."

This brought him glee. He got up so quick, he thought something became aggravated. She rushed to his side to hold him, where he pointed to his ribs. While working on him, the nurse suggested to call her inside. He agreed to this with some reluctance. Jo would have much preferred to meet her at the front desk, but sadly, his injuries still needed time to heal.

Using the pager attached to her waist, she contacted them to bring her in. Footsteps then sped down the hallway and burst through the door for Celia to hug Jo, and by accident, the purple-haired nurse.

She separated from them to let them have their moment. The nurse was successful in halting the guards who chased Celia to keep them apart. All guards had to follow the commands of those in positions like nurses and supervisors, so they conceded.

"I was so worried about you, Jo." Her nose almost touched his, but this did not bother them.

"Don't worry too much about me. According to the doctors, I should be better in two to three weeks." Jo flexed his biceps, suppressing the soreness with a smile.

They unknowingly blushed as they talked, causing the nurse to state that despite being animals, they were too cute not to watch.

A guard looked up at the clock and noticed it was minutes to eight. They would have been separated at that moment if not for the nurse. When it did reach the top of the hour, they pulled her away to send her to work.

Celia did her best to visit him every day until he was cleared to leave the health clinic. They were then immediately sent to work in their respective areas. Even so, their bond had strengthened over these two and a half weeks to where it felt a bit more than a friendship.

Such a feeling was odd for either of them, as being friends was how they saw each other before these two and a half weeks. But maybe they could be more if one of them had the courage to speak on this. For now, this was relegated to the sidelines as they were happy to return to what they've always been.

Both would work with a type of exultance that had their jobs completed before time, which hadn't happened in months. They were encouraged to keep it up since their supervisors liked not having to wait for them after their twelve hours. What assisted them was reaching at least thirty to forty minutes early to finish their tasks.

And on a day where Jo believed it was the earliest he had ever been on his forklift, Martin approached him with a container and a fork. The guards from last time were to his left and right as he handed him a red velvet cake covered with icing and a dollop of whipped cream topped with red cherries. There were two slices and Martin asked him to grab one. He then gave him the cover to use as a plate and a fork to eat it.

After Martin himself took out a plastic fork from his pocket, they ate together, with Jo being first to demolish the tasty treat. He hadn't had something like this in a long time. Jo was quite thankful, but saw it shocking that people of his kind would be so generous as this could never be a reward for his work.

Martin's response was that he already gave everyone under him a slice of cake from his grandmother's birthday party, and due to Jo being stuck in the clinic, he decided to wait to give him his slice.

Jo inquired if he ate the cake like this with everyone else.

"Uhhhhhhh... I would say yes." Martin had outed himself. He didn't need to do this but felt sympathetic enough to eat next to him despite what he had done prior.

"You don't have to lie about your reasons." Jo looked at him while having the fork on the cover where the icing was licked clean. His hands then held it up for him to take it. "All I can say is thanks and sorry for choking you. I honestly don't deserve this because of that very thing."

He chuckled. "Well, you already ate and enjoyed it, so it's no big deal."

For Jo, there was relief in hearing this. Before going back to work, he wanted Martin to tell him about the birthday party. He was more than eager to speak about the tons of dancing, singing, games, decorations, music, and of most important of all, the food and drinks. Because of the amount they ordered, there were extra slices of cake he placed in the freezer for those in work to try.

While cake wasn't a healthy alternative to coffee for a teenager, it pushed him through the morning period. The sweetness of the cake was more uplifting than any coffee he had drank. It was so good, he had to tell Celia about it within the square metal poles shaped to support the strong glass panes from all sides of the packed bus stop in front of the factory.

As he recounted this unforgettable experience to his friend, there were guards parallel to them on top of humvees with water cannons and many more on foot.

At the same time, an elderly man had passed them adorned in a brown coat that reached his ankles, a V-neck wool shirt below it, and a long pants with slippers. He was talking to himself while carrying a big bottle of alcohol before looking towards their general direction and walking off.

The chatter of the crowd in and out of the bus stop discouraged Jo from talking about his nightmares. To him, it was not an excuse to not bring it up in conversation, but an honest reason why he couldn't do it. Such a topic was for another time and place, unlike the pleasantries of delicious cake.