Chapter 2 : The Drunkard

Francis was amused by the man''s straightforwardness. If he remembered correctly, they had just met, right? How could this guy be so shameless? "If you''re still sober, go home yourself." He turned to leave, still hoping to catch the last bus.

"Okay."

Francis paused and saw Ernest collapse onto the bar. He sighed, "I really owe you!"

Francis wanted to reach for the man''s phone to call a friend to pick him up but thought it might be intrusive. "Hand me your phone," he said softly.

"Okay, phone, here you go." Like a child obediently handing over his phone, Francis chuckled. This guy was kind of cute when drunk.

Francis unlocked the phone with his fingerprint and opened the contacts, dialing the most recent call.

"Is the sun rising in the west? How come you''re calling me?"

Francis frowned. The contact was labeled as the manager, but the tone was odd. "Hello, are you Ernest''s friend? He''s drunk at the bar. Could you come pick him up?"

Angela Smith paused, holding a contract. "I''m busy, find someone else." She was about to hang up.

"Wait, wait, can you at least tell me his address?" Francis glanced at the obediently lying Ernest. Fine, he would do a good deed for the day. Hopefully, the heavens would reward him for helping a stranger by letting him make some big money.

"Oh, he moved yesterday. I don''t know where he moved to, it''s not my responsibility," said in a nonchalant tone.

Francis angrily hung up the phone. Was this really an agent? He didn''t believe it and dialed another number, his sister''s number. "Hello, the number you have dialed is currently switched off, sorry,......"

Francis could only put his phone back in his pocket, his eyes gradually becoming sympathetic. "Looks like he''s a poor kid too." After thinking for a while, he lifted Ernest up, looked at the time after leaving the hotel, "Well, the last bus has already passed."

Ernest didn''t respond and tried to lean his head on Francis''s shoulder. Francis pushed his head away, "Where do you live? You can''t stay at my place, right?"

Ernest looked at Francis with a confused expression, as if he was considering whether Francis was trustworthy. After a few seconds, he spoke, "Pioneer Companydwood Community 1552."

Francis breathed a sigh of relief, "It''s good that you can still communicate normally." He was afraid that this person was a drunkard causing trouble, but it seemed he wasn''t, at least for now.

"Wait, isn''t that the place my uncle rented for him?" It seemed they were on the same route. Reluctantly, Francis opened the ride-hailing app and silently added a note to Ernest''s account.

It didn''t take long for them to reach their destination. After getting out of the car, Francis rubbed his shoulder. How could this person manage to lean on his shoulder the whole way without moving? "Don''t even think about leaning on me again." Despite his words, he still supported Ernest to prevent him from falling.

"1552? Isn''t that next door?" He had just moved in and was already his neighbor, what a coincidence. Francis opened his own door, threw Ernest onto his bed, and went to take a shower.

After he left, the person on the bed opened his eyes, but after a few seconds, he turned over and went back to sleep contentedly.

Francis came out drying his hair and saw this scene. The person on the bed had rolled to the middle of the bed, sleeping soundly, but his brows were slightly furrowed, as if he was dreaming of something unpleasant.

Francis didn''t have time to feel sorry for a second before he saw the shoes on his feet, stepping on his bed sheets!

"Get up, get up, it''s bad enough that you''re reeking of alcohol, but you didn''t even take off your shoes! Ah, I forgot that drunks are unreasonable." Francis really wanted to punch him a few times to vent his anger. These were white sheets!

Ernest seemed not to hear and moved a bit further in. Francis directly dragged him up, "Sit up!" Being a good person to the end, Francis silently hoped that God would let him make a lot of money.

Ernest was forced to sit up, his eyes half-closed and half-open, and he even smiled friendly.

"No matter how much you smile, it doesn''t change the fact that you''re a drunk. I thought you could hold your liquor well?"

Francis muttered while helping him take off his shoes. Fortunately, he had rich life experience, otherwise, he wouldn''t know how to take care of a drunk.

Francis helped him take off his shoes and coat, then threw him back on the bed. He scratched his head, "Damn, where am I going to sleep?"

Although he had been living in this room since graduation, he didn''t have any extra things besides necessities. Moreover, to save money, he didn''t even buy furniture like a sofa. Damn Ernest, he could only sleep on the floor. Francis picked up his little notebook and added another note to Ernest''s account.

Francis randomly found a mat to lay on and was relieved to see an extra blanket. Fortunately, he had the foresight to buy an extra one, otherwise, in this cold winter, his bones wouldn''t be able to take it.

Although Francis was very cold, the fatigue of the day quickly put him to sleep, so he spent the whole night in a half-dream, half-awake state, which made his head feel like it had been run over by a car the next morning.

Ernest turned over in bed, suddenly paused, got up, and rubbed his temples. He immediately saw the shivering person on the floor, "What''s going on?"

He vaguely remembered that this person seemed to be the bartender, but he couldn''t quite recall how he got here. So, was this the kid''s home? Ernest clicked his tongue in annoyance. He quickly got out of bed and helped Francis up, "Go sleep on the bed."

After Ernest moved the person to the bed, he went to wash his face. Was there really a time when he was so drunk that someone had to take him home? He was really quite out of it.

"I''m leaving?" Ernest thought it wasn''t right for him to stay here, so he left a note and planned to leave. But the more he looked at the person on the bed, the more something seemed off. Why was he shaking so much?

He walked closer and realized that the person''s face was unusually flushed. He glanced at the mat on the floor and helped Francis up. "How can there still be such kind people?" Normally, wouldn''t someone sleep on the bed themselves and throw the drunk person on the floor?

Ernest touched Francis''s forehead. "Wake up, you have a fever. I''m taking you to the hospital." He was a bit anxious and shook Francis vigorously.

"Hmm?" Francis opened his eyes groggily, looking at the person in front of him with a bit of confusion. "What?"

Ernest patted his face, trying to wake him up a bit more. "You have a fever."

"Oh, what''s the big deal? Just cover up and it''ll be fine." Saying that, he wrapped himself in the blanket and turned over to continue sleeping. He just had a headache, it wasn''t like he couldn''t understand what was being said. If he had a fever, he wouldn''t go out to collect bottles today. Anyway, he couldn''t wait for the person he wanted to see. He sighed inwardly and fell into a deep sleep.