Pills
Series: Coral Island
Characters: Scott, Charles
Rating: G
Scott was warned about what he was going to see before he opened his front door. A loud sneeze on the other side rocked the house. He sighed, deep, and pushed his way in.
Charles spent most of the season some level of miserable, but there were always a couple days that were the worst. He sat on the couch, TV playing a cheesy makeover show at high volume, with a waste paper basket directly next to him and two boxes of tissues in his lap. One was still unopened, on standby.
He looked back when Scott opened the door and greeted him miserably. Scott thought he was looking a little too alert for a guy who should be on some heavy allergy medicine.
“Hey, Charles!” Scott replied, a little too loud. He tossed his jacket and boots off and hustled over to the seat next to Charles on the couch. He gave him a nice big smile, pulling a bit tight at the edges. “I think we need to have a conversation, bro!”
“Uh. Can it wait?” Charles asked. His eyes, rimmed with red, flicked from the tv screen, to Scott, and back again.
Scott looked at the television. There were credits on the screen. “The show’s over, man.”
“Uh, it’s a two-parter!”
“You’ve seen it before! I’ve seen it before, and I don’t even watch these shows!”
“Okay, but I’m still in the middle of it, Scott.”
“Charles.” Scott turned fully towards him, even though it meant kneeling on the couch. He dropped his hands, heavy, on his shoulders. “Charles. Man. Enough is enough.”
“I guess we’re having this talk anyway.”
“We can have this talk with Margianne shouting about hats in the background, or you can turn it down and you can watch it with your full attention during the six reruns they play every week.”
“She comes around on the hats.” Charles muted the television, but his eyes still kept flicking back to t he screen.
“She has like a life-changing epiphany about hats, man. I remember! I saw it. I don’t want to talk about hats.”
“That’s a shame. I think they might suit your face shape.”
“You do? Like, what kind of -” he broke off. “-later! We’ll talk hats later. Charles. Man. I am asking this so kindly, right now. Did you take your antihistamines?”
Charles looked down at the tissues on his lap, and then glanced over at the garbage can next to him. “...yes?”
“C’mon!” Scott burst out.
“Okay, not quite yet,” he admitted. “I was just thinking about getting some. After this episode.”
“Were you? Really?”
“...no. Look, Scott.” He moved the boxes off his lap. “If I take it now, I’ll be wide awake in the middle of the night. I’ll have to take more, and then I’ll be completely out of it tomorrow.”
“So, like, tell Yuri and take off. You never take time off anyway.”
“I…don’t want to?”
“You should take off if you don’t take anything, too. Don’t you think it’s worse this year? Like, you gotta figure out something better to take if you can’t take what you have.”
“I think the flowers are out to get me,” Charles said, sounding completely sincere. “Every year the island gets healthier and they get more powerful.”
Scott laughed. “Okay, doctor, I’m sure that’s it.” Not like it was normal for some allergies to get worse with age, or anything. “But what are you going to do about it? Yuri was looking ready to rip someone’s throat out earlier, and I definitely heard her say something about histamines.”
“Oh.” Charles stared at the muted screen, expression blank. “Maybe I will take off tomorrow.”
“And?”
“...and, what?” He looked at Scott, and then started to blink rapidly. His eyes teared up and he grasped for a tissue just in time.
“What are you going to do about that?” Scott waved at him, in his entirety.
Charles wiped at his eyes and tossed the tissue. He didn’t answer.
Scott switched tactics. He gave Scott a totally sensitive and understanding pat on the shoulder. “Look, man, I get it. I get side effects.”
Charles looked at Scott’s hand like it was a tarantula.
“I had to go off something once ‘cause it was just awful. It actually helped a lot other than the side-effects, but I couldn’t deal with it. But, you haven’t tried everything yet, right? Yuri seems to think there’s something out there that will help without -”
Charles’ gaze had sharpened.
“—without, uh…”
“What were you taking?” Charles asked, clearly trying and failing to sound only casually interested.
“That’s not the point, man. I had zero appetite and lost way too much weight, so it wasn’t worth it.” He waved his hand, dismissive. “I bet Yuri already has—”
For some reason, Charles was looking back over at the front door, where Scott had left his coat, shoes, and a few other things. He was frowning. “Was it a stimulant?” he asked. He looked back at Scott and gave him another visual once-over.
“Uh, sure. I guess that’s the big one that messes up your appetite?”
“There are innumerable drugs that have that as a side effect, but it seemed the most likely. Considering.” He paused, looking uneasy for a second, before steeling himself. “Scott, have you been diagnosed with -”
“We weren’t talking about me!” Scott protested. “I’m over here staying on the one topic, and you’re the one changing things around.”
“There are non-stimulant medications for...that.” Charles was transforming back into a doctor in front of his eyes. He sat a little straighter and fixed the coat he’d been using as a shoulder blanket since Scott came in. “You shouldn’t have to be afraid to talk about it with me. I assume Yuri has brought up the other possible treatments with you.”
“Sure, but I lost like so much, man. All my gains, just, gone, even though I was being really consistent with my routine. I wasn’t feeling like playing around anymore when I’m mostly okay without anything.” He shrugged, uncomfortable. He stood up and brushed some imaginary dirt off his pants.
“I understand your reticence,” Charles said. “But it must have been a while since then.”
“Uh, yeah, this was all back home,” Scott said. Why had he brought up the side-effect thing? He’d just been trying to be relatable.
“Some of the – Scott, are you leaving? I thought we were having a conversation. You made me mute my show.”
“I’m sorry, Charles, I really don’t want to talk about this.” He held his hands up. “You win! No more medicine talk. You wanted to talk hats? I’ve done baseball caps but I don’t think they’re me, you know?”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Charles said. He patted the seat next to him on the couch again.
“Yeah, we can’t all be baseball cap guys, I guess.”
Charles glared at him and patted the seat again.
Scott sat down. He grabbed the remote and turned the sound on.
Charles continued to glare at him for a minute, until a flashy outfit caught the corner of his eye and he was pulled back in. A series of sneezes gave Scott a little time to think.
“Okay, maybe I’m being a little bit of a hypocrite about all this.” He pinched his fingers in front of his eye. “Little tiny bit. You too, though, Charles. Admit it.”
“I’m being a hypocrite about the allergy medicine,” Charles said. “I know, I know. I’ve had this conversation with Yuri. It’s not like I’ve avoided trying anything else.” He glanced at Scott, away from the screen, and then back. “With your face shape, you’re right about not wearing caps.”
“I meant more just the vibe, man, but that’s good to know. I was thinking I could rock a panama.”
“Absolutely not,” Charles said. He made a face, like he’d tasted something disgusting. “I mean, uh. I’m sure it’d be fine, Scott, if you really wanted to try it for a while. There’s no such thing as a wrong way to dress, really!” He didn’t look like he believed the words he was saying. He started to say something else, and interrupted himself with a sneeze.
“The flowers are trying to kill you, huh.”
“That’s what it feels like, anyway.”
“Hey. Here’s an idea.”
“Yeah?”
“Charles, look at me a second. I’ve got an amazing idea.”
Charles looked at him, worried.
“I don’t want to try my thing, because it’s going to be a pain in the ass, and you don’t want to try yours, either. How about this? I try something new for my problem, you try something new for yours. We’re both miserable and hate it, but Yuri gets off your back for a while about your allergies,at least for the rest of spring, and I don’t have to worry about you jumping me with suggestions from now on.”
“I wasn’t going to push the issue.”
He scoffed. “Sure you weren’t.”
“I would have emailed you some articles on newer medications, and that would be it. Patient consent has to be at the forefront.”
“I’m not your patient, but, sure. Tomorrow, we both go and talk to Yuri. I can hold your hand if you need it.”
Charles laughed at that, a little.
It took a little more cajoling to convince him, but Scott knew he’d won. And lost, sure, but sacrifices were sometimes necessary. Now that Scott’s “health” was on the line, Charles would feel obligated to try some of Yuri’s suggestions. His doctoring spirit wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise. Because Scott really, really didn’t want to relive his experience on stimulants again, so Charles wouldn’t be able to get out of it. The second he was all “I’ll try these later,” Scott would be tossing his new pills.
A woman on the screen fell to her knees and screamed something about felt. Scott had watched this episode three times before with Charles, but still was not clear on what she said. He wasn’t sure it mattered. He didn’t think she really knew, either.
“I read that they kept the contestants awake for three nights in a row for shoots before this scene,” Charles said.
“That explains a lot,” Scott said. “Want me to grab you something when I get dinner? Did you eat yet?”
“I mean, if you’re going to the taco stand...I wouldn’t turn something down,” Charles said.
“Your regular, got it.” He got up. “Be back in a minute.” He headed out of the stuffy house. He let the cool, pollen-filled air fill his lungs. In his haste, he forgot to put his jacket on, but a light jog kept him warm enough on the way to the taco truck.
