Please say no, please say no, please say no! I had a moment of silent bliss before Blaine broke into tears again. Thankfully, we were close to a supermarket. I don't want to be inside the car when Blaine crashes it. Moreover, I don't plan on going back to the hospital for a very long time.

I keep my mouth shut until he decides to speak. I've been told that I do the world a favour by doing so. He faces me after he parks the car.

'I don't know. D-do you think we should?' He asks.

'Uh, yes.'

'Oh, t-thank god. Y-yes, yes we're done.'

'One more question. Why didn't you just call the police.'

He makes a funny face – one of a few thousand he is capable of. I was no expert in facial expressions – even my smile looked faker than fake Nikes bearing the Adidas logo, but he didn't have to tell me. I think I know.

For the record, he was always terrified of me, despite also being head over heels in "love". It's been a month we've been together, and he was nice enough to offer a place for me to stay when pests decided to kick me out of my own humble abode. I could have stayed elsewhere, instead of with a man-baby, but I badly wanted him to have a reason to man-up and put an end to this thing we called a relationship.

Sadly, he was an optimist, topping his list of worst qualities, and hoped to get me to actually accept him. I'm sure it wasn't because he tolerated me being a rapscallion to him.

'Understandable. Now stop crying. Get something delivered here, I'm hungry. I'll be back with crisps and bleach.'

'Wait, you're not going to talk about it?'

'I'm still thinking it over. You don't happen to know anyone at a zoo with underfed predators, do you?'

'No, I – I meant our relationship.'

'Ah. What about it? I thought we were done, no?'

'We are, but what are we now? Just strangers? Friends?'

Of course. The most awaited scene in all dramatic rom-coms: What are we now?. Why wouldn't there be one when I break up? I'm as romantic as a rotting dead blobfish.

'Well, one – we didn't have a proper relationship to begin with. Two - you've caught yourself the best darned guardian angel in the universe – me. I guess that makes us friends. Don't make me talk about this again.'

I step out of the car and I carefully make my way to the supermarket entrance.

Once I enter, I am stopped by an employee. 'Are you okay? What happened? Shall we call an ambulance?' I should have known that walking around with a blood-soaked shirt which was now missing the entire left sleeve for the convenience of surgery would raise questions. I look at my reflection on the glass door. The left side of my t-shirt is held up by only two stitches that makes up the border of the neck-hole.

Its no news that I dress like a homeless person with over-sized men's t-shirts I find while waiting for my brother to finish shopping in the men's isle. The thing is that I look like a homeless person who got into a squabble with another homeless person while fighting for the same garbage can to scavenge from. I'll leave what my hair looked like to your imagination.

'Oh, it was just a little accident, no biggie. I was just on my way from the hospital,' I say. I usually tend to ignore people who ask questions they have no business knowing the answers to. But this man deserves an explanation. My reflection deserves one too.

Blaine joins me, void of stray tears falling on his cheeks. I thought I told the fool to stay in the car.

'I'm sorry to hear about that. Would you like to have one of these?' he asks, pointing to an electric cart.

'My arm is in a sling and my legs are perfectly functional, so no, thank you.' I take a big step forward to prove my point with the biggest grin I've ever thrown and realize how wrong I was. I hope no one heard the strangled grunts that followed. 'On second thought, I'd love to have one.' I smiled at him - my eyes filled to the brim with tears of pain.

I get going, with Blaine beside me, hoping that everything else today has to offer will be in my favour.

Until I saw her. Oh no. This bad. Very, very bad. So bad me grammar getting wrong.

I lock eyes with Sloane – my best friend. My best friend who I have dinner plans with tonight that I forgot about. What's worse is the fact that she is coming closer. Cue annoying screech.

'ISLA! Ohmygod, what happened to you? Are you alright?' Great. Let it be known that today is the best fucking day in the history of history itself.

'It's just a scratch, don't worry about it,' I said, while moving forward in my inconveniently slow cart. It's the twenty first century – its not like they don't have the technology to make it run at a few hundred kilometres per hour.

'Just a scratch? You're drenched in blood! I never thought I'd say this but you're the definition of a fucking mess! Forget it, Blaine, what happened?' she went on. At least I lived long enough to hear her drop the f-bomb for the very first time – the once most challenging task on my bucket list was to get her to say it. Now I can die in peace.

'Okay, okay, I'll tell you, don't exhaust the poor thing, he's been through a lot of shit,' I jump in. I send him away to get the crisps. When I looked back at Sloane, I received a look that said, "go on". 'I stabbed myself while trying to swat a fly while I had a knife in my hand. Happy?'

'Really? You expect me to believe that?' she asks with a fitting glare.

'Not really, no. I killed someone and tried to stab Blaine afterwards and ended up stabbing myself.'

'I'm serious, dude! What happened?'

'I just told you.'

'But you're making it up!'

'Am I though?'

'So, it really was a fly, then?'

'Undoubtedly.'

'Care to elaborate?'

'That's as elaborate as it gets.'

I stop in front of the bleach. I'm not sure how much will be needed to clean things up.

'Could you get two of those for me?' I point at the biggest bottles of bleach there was.

'These? Why do you need two?'

'To drink so I can avoid this conversation.'

Blaine comes back with the crisps and I make my way to the checkout counter, followed by evil incarnate.

'I could hitch a ride to dinner with you, I guess.' She remembered. Shit.

'Wasn't that supposed to be next week? What about your car?' I had to talk her out of dinner somehow or buy me some time to et rid of the body, at least.

'No, I texted you yesterday too. I walked here, its not far from work. Anyways, don't stress, we can have pizza.'

'We're having pizza for lunch,' Blaine says. He got the hint. Well, he probably did.

'Chinese, then.'

'We had it yesterday. Tacos or nothing.' I add. We didn't even have Chinese the day before. I know how much Sloane hated having tacos because of the filling slipping out. I hoped she will back out from coming over.

'That's fine, I could get something else. Plus, I'll be staying over to help you with stuff.'

Dammit. This is worse than the opposite of what I planned to achieve.

'You will not be staying over or coming for dinner unless you have tacos. I'm the one who's hurt, so I demand you obey my potentially final wish.' I say theatrically, grabbing a lollipop from the counter while Blaine pays for the things we bought.

Sloane made a sound that only a Wookie can replicate. 'Alright, fine. But you owe me one.'

I suppose she knows me too well for my diabolical plans to not have any effect on her. Now that I have failed, I might as well get her pissed off.

'One what? Jellybean? Rabbit's foot?'

'A favour.'

'Oh... Sure, I'll pull the plug on you.' I say as we leave the store.

The pizza was delivered to the car. As I dive into the box, Blaine asks me where we're headed to with a subtle nod at Sloane seated at the back seat.

'Do you mind taking a quick round trip to my place? I could grab a few things of mine to stay over.' Sloane says.

'Of course not, take all the time you need there. You can stay there too, I won't mind. B, step on it,' I say with my mouth full.

Sloane made her way to her house while Blaine and I stayed back in the car, deciding on what we were going to do with the body. After five minutes of fruitless pondering, I gave up.

'I'm lost for ideas. The best we can do it is to lock it up in your room for a while, just so she doesn't see,' I say.

If only I actually bothered to get to know people. If I did, I would have been able to figure out who knew who and what they did, like the nosy mothers of lost causes from school who knew way too much about me than I did myself.

Blaine clears his throat. 'I'm sorry for bringing this up, but maybe you can reach out to your family? They must have connections, right?'

'Why would they have "connections"?'

'I mean, the movies always show that drug dealers know all kinds of people, so I just assumed.'

'What? Why would I know – oh.'

I can't believe I forgot about it. A few weeks ago, when Blaine suggested that we get to know each other better by sharing details about our families, I told him that mine was involved with an illegal drug cartel and I ran away from home because I didn't support their actions. I didn't even pay attention to what he said about his family even though I heard that someone was a doctor. For the record, I am in perfectly good terms with my family, and they definitely don't do shady business. None that I know of at least.

My phone suddenly starts ringing – it was my secretary, Drew. She reminds me of the meeting I have at eight – which is in five hours. Today was a terrible day and I don't want to make another day just as bad by having to meet with the finance manager. He insists we go through records at least once in two weeks. Such a boring doofus.

'Secretaries,' Blaine says, once I was done with the call.

'What about it? You fancy her or something?' I ask, confused.

'No. I mean secretaries. They know people,' he clarifies.

For the first time ever, I heard something that wasn't dumb come out of Blaine's mouth. Sometimes you feel that you're better off not knowing people at all. However, all is good if you know the right people. But the right people in this situation are those that are generally considered the wrong people – people who do the dirty work. Is isn't everyday and every person that can go home and say "Mum, I'm friends with a hitman", although you might be better off if you replace hitman with hot man. I feel like I just created a paradox.

Thank the God I don't believe in that I have a secretary.

'You... you absolute... Genius!' I say to Blaine while ringing her again, waiting for her to pick up. Meanwhile, Sloane was coming back towards the car with her hands full of things for her stay at the house of horrors.

'Hello,' I heard from the other end.

'Drew, need help on this end. I need you to find ways to effectively get rid of a body as soon as possible. Call me once you find something, and feel free to ask people you know,' I say fast and hang up, just before Sloane gets inside the car. Thankfully Drew never questions me, especially where a corpse is involved. I often talk of what I would like to do to certain people that drive me bonkers with her, and she probably thinks that someone must have pissed me off again.

'Sorry for the wait, we can go now,' Sloane says as she closes the door behind her.

A little after we take off, my phone makes a pinging sound. Hopefully, we have a man for the job.

Except, it was a text from the woman behind my seat. Quite hypocritical, considering that she once threw a fit for sending her messages from another room under the same roof. Now she is inches away, and had we had roles reversed, I would for sure end up in nuclear Armageddon.

'Give him a chance.' it read. Hold up – I should have seen that coming. When did she get to know that Blaine and I broke up? I was here the entire time, right next to him. I'm no expert in the subject, but people who have nothing better to do than 'ship' other people need to get laid – really bad.

'When did you tell her that we broke up?' I ask Blaine.

I am answered by 'I didn't' and 'You did what now' simultaneously, and I'm certain I don't have to say who said what.

For a bit of context, Blaine was a friend of Sloane's, and I met him through her. She didn't take the fact that I'll most probably be alone when she died well and would always try to introduce me to new people – which I am against at any given cost. Blaine would occasionally join us when we hung out, but it came to a point it was so frequent that he became our honorary gay best friend. It turned out that he hung out most times just to spend time with me.

One fateful day, about a month ago, I introduced Blaine as my boyfriend to a random dude who was hitting on me. Blaine, being Blaine, started confessing his feelings to me, oblivious to the fact that I only did it to send the man away. He was devastated once I explained to him it was a ruse, and that what I said meant nothing at all – so devastated that Sloane talked me into giving him a chance.

I was bored anyway, and I love mocking Sloane – so give him a chance, I did. It didn't take long for her to figure out what I was doing by agreeing to her. She knew all too well I was with him just so he would get tired of me and break up with me, all so I can throw an good ol' reliable "I-told-you-so" at her. Unfortunately, it turned out that he would rather be in a toxic relationship than dare to break up with me. I wonder why.

I read the message again, and this time, I knew full well what it meant. She wanted me to stop pushing him away, seeing how well he treated me throughout. What she – a hopeless romantic, doesn't understand, is that the fear of having a knife on your throat can get things done much more efficiently with minimum effort. Maybe she will understand that if she ever decides to do something about her non-existent love life.

'It was a mutual agreement,' I say, popping the lollipop I bought in my mouth. It feels nice. Makes me feel like a unicorn slayer instead of a violent, gory people stabber.

This time, Blaine's phone starts to ring. He had saved the name as "Mr. Dunn, Neighbour". He must be nice, then. The numbers of my neighbours are saved by a description of their house if they're tolerable, or by the character of their annoying kids or pets if not . A quick look at him said that he was terrified that someone has found out about the m-word thing we did. I pick up before he can stop me from answering.

'Hellow,' My lollipop made me sound like I had a speech impediment.

'Um, is this Lowell's phone?' the man on the other end asked.

'Uh, naw, dif ish Bane's fon.' Shit. Lowell must be Blaine's surname. 'Oh, foot, yesh, ish hish fon.'

'I beg your pardon.'

I take the lollipop out of my mouth. 'Yes, this is his phone. Can I take a message? He's driving at the moment.'

'You must be a friend of his, I believe. I'm Mr. Dunn, his neighbour. Not to bother you, but someone from uh - our family has gone missing. It would be great if you could tell him to keep an eye out for her.'

'Oh yes, of course, we'd be glad to help you out. Do you maybe have a few details about her?' I never bother introducing myself. Introductions are a waste of time.

'It's – um, my – um, my stepmother' he says.

'Alright, that's great – I mean, I'm sorry you can't find her, but maybe you could text us more information, so we know who we're looking for, you know.'

'Yes, I understand, I'll send more details with her photograph. Thanks for your help.'

'No problemo,' I say and hang up.

From Blaine, who was shaking like he was threadbare in Siberia, I ask 'How old is your neighbour?'

'Fifties, I think. Mid to late.'

'Fascinating... His stepmother is missing, it seems. He wants us to be on the look out. Keeping an eye out for an eighty-year-old is exactly what I was missing today.'

'What do you mean it was a mutual agreement?' Sloane asks, continuing our conversation that got interrupted.

'Can we talk about this later over dinner? I'm really tired and I've told you we just don't work out. Try not to talk, it doesn't really help with falling asleep.'

I close my eyes and wait for sleep to takeover – a little nap shouldn't hurt after all I've gone through. I can't say it's what I want to do, but its definitely what the pain killers inside me demand. The mere thought of what might come next to screw me over makes me fight against the urge to take a nap. The worst that can happen to me today is get caught and end up in prison for the foreseeable future, otherwise called eternity. I don't intend to wake up there, not knowing where I am – like how I woke up in the hospital just this morning.

My mind and body declared war on each other and was fighting a silent battle as I found myself in a trance. The trees on the sides of the road were now a green blur. I found myself admiring the sky – cloudless and empty, just like the inside of my mind. I've never felt calmer.

Until Blaine's phone had made a ping, at least. It was then that my senses interfered and demanded a truce between the forces fighting inside me.

I check what the alert was for, and I couldn't help but take a double take and laugh like a maniac.