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The bed feels cold despite being occupied just several minutes ago. There are noises coming from behind a slightly closed door. Chan is very positive about the upcoming day. He gets up and confidently heads out of the bedroom.
Once in the kitchen, Chan sees a familiar, very familiar figure, busy with something at the stove. Until he can say anything, the other person turns around. He must have heard somebody approaching.
“Good morning!” Big greats, immediately crossing the room between them and giving Chan a light, greeting kiss on the cheek. Have his lips always been that soft?
“Big, are you planning on waking up?” Chan asked after finishing buttoning his shirt. Gladly, it was summer and office dress-code freed them from the burden of wearing jackets. A long sleeve shirt would make his organs boil by the end of the day anyway.
“Mmm, sure,” Big answered, rolling from his stomach on his back and massaging his eyes. “I’m not late tho, I’ll only have to assist Khun Kinn at some meeting. Finishing touches. The deal is closed already, so it’ll be some sort of concluding conference.”
“On that AI stuff?”
“Yeah, totally groundbreaking. But it is still a prototype, will take years if not decades to develop, but with Arm in charge it’ll be done in 6 months probably.”
They both snorted.
“And when it starts?”
“At twelve.”
Chan took a brief look at the bedroom clock.
“It is ten already.”
“Oh fuck,” Big said, unblocking his phone and looking at the time. “I’ll ask Ken to pick me up.”
“Are you sure? Do I need to remind you that we have a car?”
“Yeah,” Big now sat on the bed, blanket still covering some of his body. “But aren’t you taking it, because you don’t want to be late to your precious precious Khun Korn?” Big teased.
“Try not ignoring your alarm and one day you may also be on time.” Chan teased back.
“But the bed is always so warm after you, it’s just impossible to get up.” Big said theatrically, making exaggerated arms’ movements.
Chan didn’t say anything to it, but he couldn’t stop smiling stupidly. He came up to Big and gave him a quick good morning kiss and then took his chin in his hand, brushing his thumb along the other’s lower lip.
“What is this?” He said, touching a place with some dried blood near the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know, I probably just bit it?! Bad habit.”
Chan just nodded with not as radiant but still bright smile.
“There breakfast leftovers, help yourself.” He said, ready to leave their bedroom.
Big saluted and then took his phone, tapping his fingers against the screen fast.
“Hey, man, morning,” were the last words Chan heard before closing the door.
*
“Good morning, Khun Kinn!” Chan bows, standing at the door. “May I come in?”
The request is approved by a hand beckoning him closer. Chan watches his boss listen to someone talking on the other side of the phone line, frowning, focused. The call finishes soon.
“So, how’s our” he paused, “Big. How’s Big?” he asks, smiling thinly with his eyebrows slightly raised.
Chan blinks and gives the same face in return.
“He seems to have fully accustomed. Maybe a couple of more days and he will be able to leave home.”
“Perfect then. Keep me updated. On his general condition of course. You know I’m worried about him too.”
“Sure you are, sir. I’ll go back to work now.”
“Of course.” Kinn smiles again.
Chan bows and leaves the office. The air seems stiff all around today.
“Good day.” Chan bows at Khun Kinn who is passing by and definitely hurrying somewhere. Must be the meeting Big has told him about. Khun Kinn smiles lightly and then stops.
“Chan.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Could you please enlighten me on where Big is?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell his exact location right now, but he was on his way to work. Together with Ken.”
“Funny how they decided to get lost somewhere on such an important day.” Khun Kinn’s smile almost always remains the same – lips thin and insincere – but it is easy, especially for Chan, to notice the exact moments when it turns dangerous.
Their unfinished conversation is interrupted by loud echo. Somebody is running.
“Have you seen the news?” Arms asks, panting. His eyes are almost as round as his glasses.
*
After coming back home, Chan’s eyes become permanently glued to Big. He watches him cook, wash the dishes and put them in the cupboard. He looks at how he is walking, sitting and laying. He pays attention to the corner of his mouth, his hairline, his nails. He looks and looks and looks. And finally notices.
There is not a single hair out of place, not a single pimple on his forehead, not a single dry spot on his skin. Everything is smooth and perfect, almost too perfect. It doesn’t mean that Big has never looked after himself, the way he looks and dresses. Frankly, it has always been quite the opposite. It has also, however, never meant that his ponytail can’t become messy by the end of the day or wouldn’t bite his nails while stressed.
The strangest thing Chan notices a little bit later, when Big undresses in front of him. His skin. It has no scars now, not even white, almost fainted remainders of some unpleasant events. Chan thinks that it may be good, not letting both of them, but mostly Chan himself, to relive those horrific moments.
Chan would remain lost in these thoughts, if it wasn’t for a low, familiar voice, whispering directly into his year:
“I missed you so much.”
“What is your relationship status to the patient?”
“I’m his partner.”
“May I ask you for a prof?”
“If you’re asking for a photo of as smooching or a video of us fucking ask again.”
A receptionist frowns at such a tone, but Chan couldn’t be bothered to feel any guilt. He would try to keep his anger and annoyance inside, boiling in an always hot pot, but he doesn’t want to. The man at the reception is clearly too used to behavior like this to mind.
“What about the other?”
“Um, just a colleague. He is my partner’s best friend, so we do spend a lot of time together.”
“He is already awake, condition stable, you can see him for 5 minutes.”
“Thank you.” Chan bows briefly. Some guilt starts slowly settle at the bottom of his stomach. It will digest later.
Upon entering the room, his eyes are immediately fixated on Ken: both or his arms are in the cast and his face is a cake of bruises and cuts with only one eye fully opened. Chan can’t see his legs as both of them are covered with the blanket, but they are definitely injured as well.
Chan crosses the room in two steps and stops near Ken’s bed, bending over to his ear as close as humanly possible.
“Cha…” Ken begins, clearly relived to see a someone he recognizes.
“What.The Fuck.Happened?” Chan hisses, every word spat with a generous amount of poison. “You were supposed to be a perfect driver, how the fuck…”
“I was a perfect driver. The perfectest.” Ken interrupted, returning the same tone. “There was a motherfucker on an old car who decided that traffic rules don’t apply to him. He appeared out of nowhere at the crossroads and just stopped, the breaks must’ve given out. Have you seen this film, about time travelling in a flying car?” Ken waited until Chan nodded and continued, “There was a scene with a car crash in the end. That’s exactly what happened. We just collided because he was stuck in the middle of the road.”
They both swallow.
“How is he?” Ken asks hesitantly.
“I don’t know, not good. But the doctors are working.”
“Let’s hope for the miracle given by their skilled hands and brain and by the power of God.”
Neither of them helped.
*
Weeks pass, then months, and Chan still couldn’t help feeling weird every time he looked at Big. At first glance, everything is the same: the way he looks, moves, talks; how his skin still feels hot to the touch, although for not as long as it used to be; how his teasing and insult can still cut, but not deep, leaving only a surface level wound. How there are millions of other changes now and Chan is still thinking that he just hasn’t noticed those things before.
He just used to be inattentive, right?
Wasn't he?
There was nothing to say about the funeral. It just happened. Without Ken, who still couldn’t get up, and cinematic rain. Chan went to work the next day.
As per his request, Khun Kinn gave him some additional work to do. Without hesitation, Chan was relocated some easy tasks from Big’s previous project, while the company was looking for a new employee.
After the first week of working on new task, Chan became completely emerged in it more than he had anticipated. The ability not even to transfer, but to duplicate a human’s mind and then create something that was named “a doll” to serve as a body. The reports also stated, obviously, there is no possibility to create a “mind” from scratch and put into the doll for it to develop by itself, as a regular human being. But to “copy” someone’s memories and mannerism and then transfer it into the doll via some kind of a USB? As easy as that, why are you even asking.
Chan didn’t know what amused him more: the amount of unnecessary quotation marks or the fact that Khun Korn and his son decided to play God. Despite how absurd it all looked on paper, a crazy thought crossed his mind.
with Arm in charge it’ll be done in 6 months probably
He realised it was a joke, but there was a lot of truth to it either. Arm was a technical genius with a capital G, so if there was a person on this planet who could bring these biblical fantasies to life, it was him.
Chan left his office and headed to the Arm’s, with how a completely logical question.
“Of course we can,” Arm answered. He tried his best to keep his expression neutral, but sparkly eyes gave him off completely.
*
The changes start to become visible slowly, gradually. Frankly, they may have been there since day one, but Chan just decided to ignore them. Or maybe he was just blinded by happiness finally finding its way back to him, to his house.
“My man!” Ken almost screams after entering the apartment and seeing Big, preoccupied with drinking something in the kitchen. He runs towards his best friend and hugs him as tight as possible. After what feels like 5 minutes, he lets Big go and takes his face into both of his hands just to look at him. He also hears Chan entering the kitchen and stopping behind Big’s back, watching Ken very carefully for some reason.
Ken moves his right hand from Big’s face and gently brushes trimmed hair on the side of his head.
“Oh,” he suddenly says.
“What is it, man?” Big asks, smiling gently. There is affection in his gaze, but Ken wishes they were as wet as his are right now.
“I thought you had a scar here,” a couple of his fingers circles the same spot, “You remember how I once tried to help you with a haircut? I wasn’t very careful.” Ken laughs awkwardly.
“Oh. No, I don’t remember, it probably happened a long time ago. And scars heal, right?” Ken nods and then Big turns to Chan.
“Right?” He repeats.
Chan also nods and briefly looks at Ken who is not very successful in hiding the pain in his eyes.
Apparently, not all.
“I’ll need photos and videos for reference and I’ll also send people to interview you and other people close to Big on topics “Memories” and “Impressions”.”
“Okay.”
“The conversations with you are going to be long, so be ready. I’ll prepare the list of questions but feel free to add anything you want or have to.”
“Understood.”
“Also, I feel like I should say it, but the questions of a sexual nature are also going to appear in this list. Just for you to know.”
Chan just nodded at that.
“How much time will it take?”
“How much do you give me?” A teasing smile appeared around a pencil in Arm’s mouth.
“6 months.”
The smile turned triumphant.
“We have to inform Khun Korn and Khun Kinn, obviously. Since you are basically volunteering to help us with the first prototype, I think all the cost will be covered.”
“He is not a prototype.” Chan said with his usual an unreadable expression.
“Of course he is not,” Arm quickly corrected himself. “He is Big, our Big.”
“Do we have a deal?” Chan asked.
“Oh, absolutely.” A handshake followed.
*
“I have told them that.”
“I’ve heard Big and Ken discus it.”
“That was definitely Porsche, they were working together at the time that happened.”
Whatever Big does or says now, all his gestures and words, steps and movements look familiar. But there is no warmth in this feeling, no closeness. The said familiarity is here because it was copied and pasted. All the “Memories” and “Impressions.” Recorded chapter by chapter and sorted with precaution.
Selectively, however. Chan remembers distinctly how he’s talked about all the fights they ever had, both pity and important ones. And so did Ken, according to his own words. But this Big never gets angry as he used to and never goes outside to throw rocks into the nearest lake to avoid taking it on Chan; never gets a little shy and never hides his face during sex, vice versa, he’s become so confident that now it is Chan’s turn to shiver under the velvety touch of the words whispered in his ear; never even messes up his fucking hair.
Chan tries to get angry, tries to provoke, to get a response, a fire, a flame. Big has the same cheerful eyes and bright smile. Chan dreads that sometimes he calls this expression “robotic.”
The thing is, Big wasn’t perfect. Had never been. And Chan loved him for that. All his insufferable traits, annoying habits and insecurities. No matter how prominent they seemed to others, they were always invisible to Chan. Now, everything has its shape, and taste, and color.
*
“Chan, you are needed in Khun Kinn’s office right now.” Arm’s bows and leaves before receiving the answer. Chan puts off whatever report he is reading. He doesn’t even need to guess what they are going to talk about.
“Good morning, Chan,” Khun Kinn wears the same thin smile as usual.
“Good morning, sir,” Chan shuts the door and waits for the invitation to take a seat. He receives it shortly.
“How are you doing?”
“All good, sir, thank you for your concerns.”
“How are things at home?”
“Also good, sir.”
“How is Big?”
“As good as I am, adapted.”
Khun Kinn takes a deep breath, choosing his words.
“I will try to say it as lightly as possible, but I’m going to be honest – we will have to put surveillance cameras in your house.”
“I don’t understand, sir,” Chan blinks.
“You do,” a pair of narrowing eyes started drilling holes into Chan’s skull, “you understand everything perfectly. We need to observe the subject’s behavior in the area it’s most familiar with.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Even though,” Khun Kinn continues, ignoring his subordinate’s words, “I receive perfect reports from you on time, however, as it is the first time someone ever conducted such an experiment, I believe visual data would be more valuable.”
“Sir, I …”
“It is necessary to study the tiniest detail to understand whether it was really a success and, if possible, avoid problems in production of future models.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Chan speaks up, causing Khun Kinn to look at sideways, with open astonishment. “Stop saying that.”
“Stop saying what?”
“Object, experiment, model.” Prototype, echoes Arm’s voice.
Khun Kinn looks down, tensing visibly.
“What is he then?”
“He is ... Big. Just Big,” Chan’s voice sounds very quite and unconvincing. A hollow cough comes from in front of him.
A human, lingers unspokenly somewhere between them. Khun Kinn smiles pitifully, unconvinced.
“I am certain that you, Chan, yourself realise what he is and what he is not anymore better than everyone else.”
Chan swallows. Not it is his turn to avoid his interlocutor’s gaze.
“Let me know when the crew can come to install the cameras. And don’t tell Big. For more accurate data.”
Chan sighs.
“How long will the cameras have to be in our house?”
“I can’t tell you now. They will be removed as soon as we’ve collected enough information.”
Chan nods and stands up.
“I’ll do as you wish, sir. My apologies for that short loss of temper.”
“No need to apologies. I understand how hard it is for you. I’m truly sorry.”
You are truly not.
“Thank you, sir.”
He closes the door to Khun Kinn’s office from the outside and stares into a somewhat busy hallway, with the sounds of calls coming out from the semi-closed doors. Chan feels his eyes getting wet. He wonders if there ever will be a room in his own house where he could express any real emotions. Or will it remain like this forever. Robotic.