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With a skip in each step, Eiden walks down to the pharmacy right by his apartment. He goes past the aisles before finally reaching his destination. Eiden beams when the line seems to be short, this would be about a seven hour long wait. Not bad!
He’s delighted to see ashen-gray hair behind the counter and when he looks over, he sees… him ♡, typing away on his computer. The pharmacist had a face mask on, quietly speaking to an elderly woman. Though it took some effort, Eiden managed to hear him quietly informing her the side effects of her prescription.
As Eiden progressed deeper into the line, he kept offering his spot to the person behind him, trying to time it right so he could have that pharmacist in particular to take care of him. The wait ended up being an additional thirty minutes but eventually, Eiden’s efforts were not in vain.
When the pharmacist looks up to call for the next customer, he sees Eiden first in line. Sighing, he calls out, “Next.”
“Hi there, Rei.” Eiden grins. “I’m here to pick up my prescription.”
“This is the third time this week,” Rei deadpans. “And I would like you to stop that, we aren’t on a first-name basis.”
“What should I call you then? Pharm cutie?”
Rei ignores him and pulls up his information on his monitor. He brings up a hand to adjust his face mask. “There always seems to be something going on with you, sir.”
“Good thing I have such a smart, dependable man to make sure I get what I need to feel better, hmm?”
“To be clear, you are here to pick up your…” Rei pulls his face mask down. “VIAGRA for your ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION, correct?”
Eiden bites the inside of his cheek and endures. For some unknown reason, Rei would make sure to announce his personal business as loudly as possible so the entire building could hear. Whatever happened to patient confidentiality? It does not matter, Eiden bears with it because every time Rei does this he’s fully showing his beautiful face. It’s worth it.
“Uh. Yes.”
“Your doctor has put you at the MAXIMUM DOSE for VIAGRA due to your SEVERE ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION it seems,” Rei pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. “Are you sure your SEVERE case of ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION isn’t a side effect by the disulfiram you were prescribed with because of your CHRONIC ALCOHOL USE?”
Eiden nervously laughs. “Haha, no, my doctor and I made sure of it.”
“Okay then. I will be right back.”
As Rei leaves, he puts his face mask back on. Eiden could feel a bunch of eyes on him. He smiles through the whispers behind him.
“This guy’s dick doesn’t work… you never know what’s going on with people behind the scenes,” one sighed.
“And he’s an alcoholic! Never judge a book by its cover, I guess,” said another.
When Rei returns, he hands him the bag before pulling his face mask down again. Eiden braces himself for whatever Rei was about to say.
“Make sure you do not take it with alcohol since it reduces the effectiveness of your VIAGRA, which I know may be DIFFICULT due to your ALCOHOL ADDICTION so do try your best.” Rei turns to his monitor. “It will be $4.73. Will you be paying in cash or card today?”
“…card.”
“Oh actually, it says here that your insurance was CANCELLED due to INSUFFICIENT FUNDS ON YOUR ACCOUNT. Your new total will be $2930.86. We have GoodRX coupons if you would like to use one today.”
“And he’s broke,” whispered one person, loud enough for the entire line to hear.
Eiden could feel a tear drop down his face. “Yes please.”
“Alright. You’re set.” Rei puts his face mask up. “Next.”
Eiden does the usual walk of shame back to his car, trying his best to ignore the not-so-quiet whispers that followed his trail. When he gets home, Eiden empties out the bag and tosses the prescription into the cluttered bin of the hundred unopened prescription bottles he owned.
“Next — it’s you again.”
“Good evening, my favorite little apothecary!” Eiden cheers. “I’m here to pick up my meds!”
“You don’t have to tell me that, why else would you be here?”
“To see you, of course.”
Rei sighs tiredly. “I’m just trying to get through my shift here.”
“Right, sorry,” Eiden laughs.
Getting his information up on the monitor, Rei reads out. “So you’re here to pick up the lubiprostone for your IRRITABLE BOWEL SYNDROME, is that correct?”
“Yup,” Eiden says, his voice cracking.
“We had just finished up the order. Let me get that to you.” Rei reaches over for the bag. “Follow the directions labeled on the bottle. If you have SEVERE DIARRHEA, please make sure to contact your healthcare provider. You can also take DIETARY SUPPLEMENTS for any CONSTIPATION you experience.”
“You know, I was wondering if you could keep the volume a tad bit down?” Eiden pinches his fingers. “Like thiiiiis much.”
“You can find the DIETARY SUPPLEMENTS in the aisle behind you.” Rei turns to his monitor and pulls his face mask up. “Next.”
Eiden sighs in defeat as he picks up his bag. Today’s attempt did not go so well.
Determined, Eiden marches into the pharmacy with renewed focus. He had spent the entire morning in front of the mirror, hyping himself up with affirmations:
Today I will charm Rei.
Today I will get his number.
Today I will not cry in public.
When he reaches the counter, Rei looks up at him like he’s trying his best not to close down the aisle right there.
“Hi, Rei!” Eiden chirps with the brightest smile he’s ever made since the day he was born.
“Oh god he’s back,” someone from the line whispered out.
Rei stared at him. “…Here to pick up your prescription?”
“Yes sir!” Eiden nods confidently. “It should be under—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rei interrupted flatly, already typing away at the speed of light. “…oh.”
“Oh?” Eiden echoes as he tilts his head curiously.
Rei squints at the screen, then slowly pushes his glasses up. “…You’re here to pick up your new prescription.”
“My new prescription?” Eiden repeats. “Ah, yes!! Of course. That one!”
Rei gives him a knowing glare that says: You don’t even know what it is, do you?
His jaw tightens as he begins, “…You were prescribed permethrin.”
Eiden gives Rei the biggest fake grin he’s ever made in his entire life. “Right! That!”
Rei stares. “LICE treatment.”
The line behind Eiden goes very still.
“Oh,” Eiden says weakly. Then he lies behind his teeth. “Y-Yeah… terrible outbreak! Terrible stuff.”
Rei doesn’t seem convinced.
“You do realize,” Rei says slowly. “That the physician’s notes say that you insisted you felt ‘something crawling’ on your scalp, right?”
Eiden gives him a nervous thumbs up, his finger shaking. “I-I am an imaginative person!”
Rei taps the monitor again. “It also says you demanded an urgent appointment because you believed you contracted lice from ‘a suspicious-looking pigeon.’”
A guy behind them chokes on his drink.
Eiden covers his mouth. “Birds carry… things!”
“Not lice,” Rei says flatly. “Not these lice, at least.”
“Ah,” Eiden says softly. “…Right.”
Rei sighs, pulls his mask down, and pins him with his most exhausted stare yet.
“So to summarize,” Rei says loudly enough for the entire counter to hear, “you are here to pick up two tubes of LICE CREAM for the LICE you allegedly contracted from a PIGEON you chased for THREE BLOCKS.”
“I didn’t chase it—”
Eiden catches himself. “Okay I chased it a little.”
Rei ignores the correction.
He bags the permethrin with slow, judgment-heavy movements.
“This is for EXTERNAL use only,” he says, sliding the bag over. “Do not ingest the lice cream. Do not bathe in the lice cream. Do not attempt to use the lice cream as a hair mask.”
“Rei, please,” Eiden whispers, mortified. “I’m begging you—”
Rei keeps going.
“And please refrain from returning to the clinic with another ‘pigeon-related emergency.’ Your doctor has now flagged you as a frequent flyer.”
Someone in line snorts.
Eiden wishes for death.
Rei pulls his mask back up. “Your total is $18.82. Will you be paying with lice or legal tender?”
“…card.”
Rei hands him the bag. “Next.”
Eiden walks away stiffly, clutching the prescription like a wounded soldier. He hears a mother whisper to her child, “Honey, keep your hood up around that man.”
Eiden goes home sobbing into his pillow.
Eiden walks in like this is routine now. Because it is.
Rei doesn’t look up. “Next.”
Eiden steps forward. “Hi.”
Rei types in his name automatically.
Pause.
“…You submitted a new prescription request.”
Eiden nods once. “Yes.”
Rei scrolls.
Longer pause.
“…For adderall.” Rei looks up slowly. “You do not have ADHD.”
“I lose focus sometimes.”
“You scheduled a five-minute telehealth appointment.”
“Efficient.”
“You told the provider you are ‘unable to concentrate in pharmacies.’”
Eiden folds his hands politely. “It’s a high-stimulation environment.”
Rei stares.
“It says here,” Rei continues evenly, “that your primary symptom is ‘hyperfixation on one specific healthcare professional.’”
Someone in line coughs.
Eiden keeps his expression neutral. “That was taken out of context.”
“It is in quotation marks.”
Rei removes his mask halfway — not dramatic, just deliberate.
“You cannot manipulate the diagnostic criteria to flirt.”
“I wasn’t flirting.”
“You submitted annotated DSM excerpts.”
“…I did research.”
Rei scrolls again. “…The provider declined.”
Eiden blinks. “Declined?”
“‘Symptoms situational and suspiciously specific,’” Rei reads flatly.
The silence behind him grows heavier.
Rei turns the screen back. “You have nothing to pick up.”
Eiden doesn’t move.
“Okay.”
He stays there.
Rei waits.
“…Are you done?” Rei asks.
“Yes.”
“You’re still standing here.”
“Yes.”
Rei exhales slowly.
“Do not attempt to acquire controlled substances for attention.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You absolutely were.”
Eiden leans slightly closer, lowering his voice for once. “Then what would you suggest instead?”
Rei meets his eyes.
“Try speaking normally.”
“That’s vague.”
“It is intentional.”
Silence.
Then Rei looks back at the screen.
“…However.”
Eiden perks up involuntarily.
“You do have something else ready.”
“For real?”
“Yes.” Rei scrolls once more.
“…You requested a refill of your melatonin.”
Eiden nods once. “That one’s legitimate.”
“Mm.”
Rei retrieves the small bag. No announcements. No volume theatrics.
He sets it on the counter.
“Take as directed.”
Eiden studies him.
“…You didn’t broadcast it.”
“You did not attempt felony-level nonsense today.”
“That’s the bar?”
“That is the bar.”
Eiden taps his card.
The receipt prints.
Rei hands it over.
Their fingers almost brush.
Neither of them comment on it.
“…See you,” Eiden says, quieter than usual.
Rei pulls his mask fully back up.
“…Unfortunately.”
But his tone lacks bite this time. Eiden leaves without causing a scene. The line moves forward.
Rei stares at the screen for a moment longer than necessary before calling: “Next.”
Eiden comes in on a Tuesday.
“Next.”
He steps forward. “Hi.”
Rei types automatically. “…You have something ready.”
Eiden blinks. “I do?”
“Yes.”
Rei turns the screen slightly toward himself, reading. “…It’s the antifungal cream again.”
Eiden exhales through his nose. “Right.”
“You never finished the first tube.”
“That feels accusatory.”
“It is observational.”
Rei steps away to retrieve it. Mask on. Expression neutral.
When he comes back, he sets the small paper bag on the counter.
“It will be $64.28.”
Eiden pulls out his wallet.
Opens it.
Pauses.
He checks again, like money might materialize out of embarrassment.
“…Right.”
He laughs lightly. “Give me a second.”
He opens his banking app. The smile falters. Rei watches without looking like he’s watching. The line shifts behind Eiden.
“…Actually,” Eiden says carefully, “Can you put it back? I’ll come back later.”
Rei doesn’t move. “Your insurance lapsed again.”
“Yeah. I noticed.”
Silence stretches.
Rei looks at the screen.
Then at the card terminal.
Then back at the screen.
“…Run it.”
Eiden blinks. “What?”
Rei presses something on his keyboard.
The register beeps.
“Paid.”
Eiden frowns. “You didn’t — I didn’t tap.”
“It’s covered.”
“By what?”
Rei doesn’t answer immediately. He just folds the receipt once before placing it on the counter.
“Take it.”
Eiden doesn’t reach for it.
“…Rei.”
“It is a low-cost medication.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Rei adjusts his glasses.
“You said you would come back later.”
“Yeah.”
“You would not.”
Eiden goes quiet. The line behind him pretends not to listen.
Rei pushes the bag slightly closer. “If you have questions about dosing,” he says evenly, “or side effects…”
He taps the receipt once.
“…my number is on there.”
The air changes.
Eiden stares at the thin strip of paper like it might disappear.
“You wrote your number on a receipt,” he says slowly.
“Yes.”
“That’s extremely unprofessional.”
“I am aware.”
Silence.
“…Is this because I can’t afford it?” Eiden asks.
“No.”
Rei meets his eyes directly.
“It is because you keep coming back.”
Not sharp. Not mocking. Just factual. Eiden swallows.
“You didn’t announce it,” he says quietly.
“No.”
“You didn’t humiliate me.”
“No.”
“You paid for it.”
“Yes.”
Another beat.
“…If I text you a question,” Eiden says carefully, “will you answer as my pharmacist?”
Rei considers that.
“…Depends on the question.”
“And if it’s not about the medication?”
Rei pushes the bag fully into his hands.
“Then I will decide.”
The line shifts again. Rei pulls his mask back up. “Next.”
Eiden walks away slower than usual. He doesn’t open the bag immediately. He doesn’t look back either. Outside the pharmacy doors, he unfolds the receipt.
There it is.
A ten-digit number, written in small, precise handwriting at the bottom.
Under it:
For questions only.
Eiden smiles.
He opens his phone.
Question: how often can I refill this?
A pause.
Then:
Also, what time do you get off work?
Three dots appear almost immediately.