The glass man

- I'm worried about Rafael.

Sitting on Lucas' bed, I analyzed the ukulele he had brought from Hawaii. Lucas used to loathe the small instrument, but apparently he had overcome his aversion after visiting the island. He had the guitar in position, one foot resting on the chair and the other on the floor, tuning the strings.

He put his pick on the table and left the guitar on the bed, reaching for the white guitar beside it to start the process over.

- Why the worry?

- He said he would publish the video more than two hours ago, and so far, nothing.

- You'll see he was just late - Lucas shrugged, dismissing the question, but I couldn't convince myself. I glanced at the clock again: nine forty at night.

What the fuck.

After the day when things almost got out of hand at Rafael's house, we had avoided talking to each other - or, more precisely, I had avoided taking calls. I made up an excuse not to return to your home and sought refuge in Lucas, who had arrived from Hawaii the previous afternoon. I told him everything that had happened, setting aside the crow episode, and I received a wry smile.

- I said you guys would get along, didn't I?

- We weren't supposed to get along. And I blew it, anyway - I sighed. Lucas didn't look convinced, but he let it go.

Now he was playing "I can't help falling in love with you", and although he told me more than once that Elvis Presley was in his head because of the trip, I felt there was something more. Lucas didn't use to play so many love songs and his dark gaze was more lost than usual.

- No, I can't help falling in love with you… - His voice sounded slightly melancholy. I couldn't ignore his passionate way anymore. I planted my elbows on my knees and waited for him to finish the song.

- Okay, Luquitas. Spit it out. Who is the girl?

He looked up; a smile played on his lips.

- So obvious?

- Enough - I replied, crawling on the bed until I sat next to him - Do you want to tell me?

- Ah, Nina - he sighed, smiling like a fool, and ran a hand through his black hair - She studied with me in seventh grade. What are the chances of meeting someone you know in the middle of Hawaii?

He laughed again.

- It took me a while to recognize her. It has changed a lot since the last time we met.

- What is her name?

- Jessica. A name that suits her, to be honest. Jess has always been very beautiful, and time has only helped to make her stunning, wonderful, beautiful as fuck…

- Okay, okay, I get it. A fucking big man.

- Completely. And with such a strong genius! A personality simply ... - he raised a hand to his chest, solemnly, and raised his head as if swearing - passionate!

I made a face, laughing through my nose. Lucas was completely pathetic when he was in love - and I had followed all of his love affairs for the past four years, always serving as a counselor (even though I was an aromatic virgin amoeba). Unfortunately, all of his attempts failed before the relationship even engaged in anything more serious.

- Say, what's her at Instagram sign? - I prepared the phone to enter CSI mode: São Paulo on fire. When I turned on the screen, however, I couldn't help looking at the time: ten o'clock at night and no video. I bit my lip hard. My fingers were shaking.

Before I lost my nerve - or regained common sense, which was more likely - I called Rafael. I felt there was something wrong. Under Lucas's curious gaze, I nervously waited for him to answer. After ringing nine times, the other party answered.

- Rafa? - I asked cautiously. All that was heard was an indistinct and rhythmic noise, like chattering teeth, followed by small intervals of frightening silence. My heart accelerated, as if I wanted to get out of my chest. - Rafael! Are you listening to me?

- N-n-n-n-ni-n-n-na ...

I heard the sound of something hitting the mouthpiece, and then the line went dead, even though the call was still running. A bitter taste hit my mouth. Lucas looked at everything with a serious expression.

"I'm going over there," I announced, getting up quickly. I grabbed my sneakers from the corner of the room and put them on as quickly as I could. Lucas went to the closet, took a shirt, dressed over the tank top he was wearing and left the room without saying anything. When I came down the stairs, he opened the front door with the car keys in his hand. I sat in the passenger seat, fastened my seat belt and closed my eyes for a brief moment. My heart seemed to be trying to escape through my mouth.

- What did he say on the phone? - Lucas finally asked, when we were several blocks from his house. I pressed my temples with my fingers.

- Nothing - Lucas raised an eyebrow, without diverting his attention from the traffic - He was silent, then I heard some strange noises, as if someone was beating spoons on each other. Then I think the phone fell to the floor.

- That doesn't mean much. It could be Eredin playing with his cell phone, or Rafael was taking it out with your face.

And I hoped Lucas was right. With my gaze fixed on the window, I wished with all my might that I was wrong, that it was just a bad joke. But something deep inside told me that I was right to worry. Lucas drove as fast as security allowed, and it seemed to me that we were walking like slugs in an aquarium.

At ten forty at night, we arrived at Rafael's building. I had no idea how we were going to get in without being expected. I spoke to 607 nervously, stamping my feet against the floor in an attempt to calm myself.

Anything.

After trying again - with the same frustrating result - I pressed the button on the concierge desk, praying they would let us through with some broken excuse.

- Yes? A voice hissed over the intercom. Lucas took the lead.

- Hi, Mr. Pereira. This is Lucas, Rafael's friend from 607, remember me?

- Remember, I remember - the man replied a little suspiciously - but the boy from 607 didn't say you were coming. Why don't you call him?

- He asked us to come and get Eredin - I invented, meddling in the conversation. The doorman hesitated.

- What's your name, girl?

- Nin ... Ehr, Marebel - I replied, confused.

- Marebel da Silva?

- That.

- The boy warned you could end up passing by here. You can come in.

We went around block I, running along the asphalt where we would get to II faster. Luckily for us, today the elevator was stopped on the ground floor, so we went up at a glance to the sixth floor.

We stopped in front of apartment 607. Lucas knocked on the door a few times, calling for Rafael. Lobinho barked in despair inside; except for the puppy's noises, only silence greeted us. Fate smiled at us that night, as the door was unlocked.

I searched the first rooms of the house while Lucas looked inside the rooms. I was in the hall when he called me.

- Nina, here!

I ran to the middle room, and the scene I found paralyzed me for an instant. A tear welled up in my left eye, but it didn't flow.

Rafael was lying on a double bed, face up, eyes closed. The body convulsed so violently that the bed rattled under its weight; he arched his back and his arms, tensed, suffered involuntary pulsations as if he tried to punch someone. The jaw was clenched so tightly that its teeth chattered, explaining the noise I had heard earlier. Lucas had held Rafael's wrists, preventing him from moving so violently. Meanwhile, Rafael had started shaking his head, throwing it from side to side with such aggression that I feared I might end up breaking my neck. I climbed the bed and sat next to his head, holding it carefully and firmly. I placed it on my lap while pressing the sides of the taut jaw. Lucas still immobilized him.

- It's OK. Okay, "I whispered, applying constant pressure with my fingers. I made circular movements with my thumbs while maintaining a tone that I hoped would be reassuring in my voice - You can rest now. It's OK.

Rafael was still shaking. I contained an involuntary movement of his neck.

- Calm. It's all right. Relax your muscles, Rafa. It's all right.

A few minutes passed. After massaging his jaw well, I finally felt that he relaxed his mouth, albeit a little. The tension that made him struggle on the mattress slowly gave way to an uninterrupted tremor. His arms still had sudden thrusts. Rafael raised one eyelid and looked at a spot on the ceiling.

- What-what-are you… are you doing here? - He asked through teeth. I couldn't help sighing with relief at seeing him conscious, even in those conditions. He was breathing hard.

- Nina, we need to go to the hospital. - Lucas put an arm under Rafael. I helped lift him up and put his other arm around my shoulders. We walked slowly, supporting almost all the weight of Rafael, who was barely able to stand. We stumbled down to the ground floor, where Lucas left us on a couch and went back to the apartment to lock the door. Four minutes later, he was back.

- I got the gate alarm. I'm going to get in the car, okay? Then we put Rafael inside.

- Okay.

- Take care of him.

Lucas dashed out the door. Beside me, Rafael started to shake suddenly again; I held his arms and hummed again, even though I knew that a lullaby was almost useless in that situation.

- My father's gardener, don't cut my hair ...

He exhaled hard through his nose, quickly, his eyes closed so hard that I was startled. Lucas burst into the lobby and put Rafael on his feet. I helped him to take him to the car, where I sat with Rafael in the back seat. I tried to dress under his trembling weight.

When we were five blocks from the emergency room, Rafael unlocked his jaw and, through gritted teeth, he whispered:

- V-v-v-you-you c-c-sing badly, N-n-n-nin-n-na.

Despite my concern, I managed to smile.

- Coming from you, it's a compliment.

☽౦☾

Waiting rooms always got on my nerves.

Sitting by a window, I twisted the fabric of my shirt with my hands, trying my best to control the tears that were pinching my eyes. All that agitation had made me very nervous, and my body tried to vent nervousness through treacherous tears. I sniffed once and dried my eyes, finding the situation so ridiculous that a laugh escaped my throat.

Nurses passed down the corridor where Rafael and Lucas had disappeared. One of the girls who attended to us when we arrived told me that Rafael had probably had a severe anxiety attack and that I didn't need to worry, which did not prevent me from being attentive to every movement in that corridor.

After what I assumed was two hours, Lucas returned to the living room and sat down next to me. He put an arm around my shoulders, allowing me to lean back.

- It was anxiety - he said in a low voice - The asshole has been without taking the damn medicines for four days. All the side effects exploded at once, leaving the guy a little freaked out.

- How… how is he now?

- Taking serum. The psychotic break has passed, and in half an hour we can go home. He turned his black eyes on me and his expression softened. He ran a thumb over my face, wiping away the tear I hadn't noticed. A painful sob shook my body. I rubbed the sleeve hard over my eyes. - Calm down, crying. He hasn't died yet, save those tears for a few days.

I laughed, grateful to have him there. It had been easier not to panic with him around. After waiting for two hours in that room, however, I had calmed down enough to face the situation rationally. Lucas had said that Rafael had stopped taking his medication for four days, and I wondered why he had done this crazy thing.

From Lucas's somber expression, he wondered the same thing.

Lucas wanted to go down to the canteen to buy some cheese bread; he offered to buy one for me too, but I refused. I continued to look out the window, the thought stuck on the guy who at that very moment was taking IV in some room in the hospital. Lucas came back soon and we waited in silence. The doors to the corridor opened, revealing a worn-out, pale Rafael followed by a nurse. The three of us signed some papers that I didn't bother to check which ones.

- You can't go home alone. The doctor asked you to sleep at someone's house today. - Lucas was the only one to say something as we walked to the parking lot. - It's late, Nina, so I think you better sleep at home too.

I was too tired to argue, so I just agreed. Rafael sat in the front seat, letting me stretch in the back. In the silence of the car, I fell asleep. When I woke up, we were in Lucas's garage.

We entered the kitchen quietly, going up the stairs with the lights out. Lucas's room was small to accommodate three people.

- The scheme is as follows: Rafael, you sleep on the mattress, then if you start to shake you will not fall on the floor. Nina, sleep in the bed. I go to the living room.

"Don't even think about it," I protested. - The bed is yours. I sleep in the room.

- Nina, you're a visitor. Do not worry about it.

- Lucas…

"Nina," he said.

"Leave her, man," Rafael said for the first time since we left the hospital. - If she doesn't want to stay, leave.

I thought I heard something like hurt in your voice, although it was so fast I couldn't be sure. Lucas finally agreed to let me sleep on the couch. I rummaged through the closet for the sweatshirt I had once forgotten there. I couldn't change my jeans for something more comfortable, but at least I would change the shirt I had worn all day. I headed for the bathroom.

As soon as I looked in the mirror, all the stress of the past few hours showed its consequences. There were deep dark circles under my eyes, which were a muddy color different from the usual honey tone. The wrinkled brown curls looked like they had been blown by a hurricane. I ignored the image in the mirror, changing quickly.

I stopped by Lucas's room, finding the two boys sitting on the bed with varying expressions of annoyance. They had argued, and it was clear on their upset faces.

- Good night - they greeted me, both still very angry. I closed the door and went downstairs with a pillow and a blanket under my arm.

I rolled from side to side on the couch. Although I was exhausted, I was unable to shut down and sleep. My mind insisted on returning to the frightening scene of Rafael shaking in his bed, as if his insides had rebelled and were trying to tear him in half. Every detail of that sordid episode was etched deeply into my head; in a moment of morbidity, I thought about using this scene in my new book.

I got up suddenly. My heart was pounding against my chest, sending pulses all over my body. I felt around the coffee table for my cell phone, opened the notepad and started writing. I was disturbed and scared; I transferred all that feeling in the outline of a story. I only managed to fall asleep after saving the notes with a curious title: "the glass man".