Mallory opened his eyes. 

Everything was white. 

"Am I dead?" Mallory asked himself. 

His mind flashed a brief memory of free- falling from the high balcony. He remembered the short, excruciating pain and his vision turning red as the last thing he saw. He winced at the sight and surveyed the room to shake off what happened. He then saw Don on the bench, reading a booklet.

"You're awake,” Don coldly said as he turned his head from his seat with a wooden cane for support.

Mallory just stared at him coldly. He straightened up his spine and became alert.

Don stood up and faced the window. Without turning, he asked Mallory with a mild irritation in his voice, "Why did you jump?" 

"Y-you… you're a demon!" Mallory shouted with disbelief, ignoring what Don asked.

Don pretended to be offended and responded jokingly. "Hey, you don't want to shout that. You might end up in a asylum if they hear you."

"I don't trust you," Mallory blared. "You got too much secrets on those velvet sleeves of yours."

"I understand why you feel this way," Don shrugged as he casually came closer and sat at the edge of the hospital bed.

He mocked embarrassment, covering his eyes shortly before he spoke. "5 years of Psychotherapy. I lost a bet from an archangel."

He chortled for a bit and quickly changed the topic, "You know, Mal. I have kept my secret for two centuries. I never expected someone to have known..."

"What happened to Ryan?" 

"That policeman? Don't worry about it.”

Mallory shrunk in his bed. 

"Don't worry, I trust you,” Don added. 

Shivers crawled up to Mallory's spine, but something confused him. "Wait, why am I still alive?" 

"I caught you,” Don simply said.

"Why are you here?”

Don smirked darkly, "I thought that if you passed away here, I'd get your soul before the others could take it." 

Mallory frowned in disbelief. 

"Just kidding! I wanted to stand guard," Don responded apologetically.

"Will you kill me?" 

"No," Don quickly replied.

"Why?"

"Look. I just had a gut feeling I will never meet anyone like you ever again. I liked you already even though you're quiet... feisty. As long as you promise me you will not tell anyone what you've learned from me."

"What about those rules?" 

Don answered, "I don't follow them sometimes." He simpered and held the patient's hands for comfort. His hands were cold and firm. Mallory couldn't figure out just yet if the said therapy had worked from this strange creature.

"I have questions..." Mallory cautiously said.

Don looked at him with anticipation. 

Mallory looked up and asked with an  arched eyebrow, "How many wives did you actually have?" 

Don flinched and darted his eyes at the floor, "Uh... I had twelve wives."

"WHAT!" 

"Kidding! It was seven. Honestly, I had twelve lovers, as long as I can remember." 

"You lied to me,” Mallory glared with a bit of disbelief. "I hate liars, Don."

"I didn't marry after my last one for 50 years! Also, I never cheated. I only married when I outlived them," Don reasoned.

"That doesn’t change the fact." 

Don sighed deeply, "...Sorry about that. I didn't expect I would actually have to admit this at all." 

A moment of silence fell into the room. A word popped at Mallory's mind and eyed Don with utter suspicion. 

"Psychotherapy? Isn't that for psychopaths?"

"No, no!" Don laughed nervously from Mallory's unwavering glare, "Don't be silly. I'm not completely unhinged."

"Then why… Why did you go to psychotherapy?"

"My doctor informed me I am a..." Don paused and visibly forced himself to spit out the truth, "...I'm a Sociopath."

"Why the hell would I trust you then?" Mallory snapped.

Don withdrew from his seat and raised his brows.

"Wow, that's cold," he commented under his breath. "I have outgrown my ways, Mallory. Violence and lust have bored me, and I want to settle down. Trust me," Don said.

"Sure," Mallory muttered, prompting a soft sigh from Don.

The door was slammed open by a group of people rushing in. It's Mallory's bandmates; they wore a more respectable casual attire that Don could endure looking at. 

"Mal! You okay?" Rez blurted, looking like he's about to pull all out his hair from worry. 

Roxanne and Learone kneeled beside Mallory, who were worried but less overreacting than Rez. 

"Look at this bandages! Damn it, Mal. Why would you try to kill yourself!" Roxanne frustratingly scolded. "Is there something bothering you again?"

Mallory just sighed heavily, "Roxy, I am too tired to answer your questions."

"I... Agh," Don stood up, painfully enduring his broken leg, "I can explain what happened.”

The bandmates turned and looked in unison at the blonde man. They stared at him with full suspicion.

"It's the suit guy," Rez whispered. 

Don's fingers curled up, itching to strangle, but he managed just to tell off Rez, "Don't call me that." 

Rose rushed into the room with a bouquet of flowers, her eyes red from crying. She embraced her best friend as gently as she could, "Oh Mallory! What happened?"

Don answered, "He told me there was some creep with a gun in his place. He was scared so he panicked." 

All of them looked at Mallory for legitimacy. He paused, then nodded. He shouldn't tell what happened because it wouldn't even be believable or too complicated either way. "Yeah... That's what happened." 

Mallory glimpsed at the bouquet laying on his bedsheets. He looked up at his best friend and said, "Thanks for the lovely flowers, Rose." 

"Oh no, dear. That is not mine. I just brought it here. He talked to the police, so he gave it to me for safekeeping," Rose clarified. Mallory became curious, then he remembered.

Mallory became dead silent as the door opened. It was Mallory's brother, Mortimer.

"I saw the news. What the hell were you thinking?"