Neon Red – Chapter 54

(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It’s important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)


In the darkness before the dawn

In the darkness before the dawn

Leave a light, a light on

Leave a light, a light on

Coldplay | Midnight

He stretched with a balletic grace in the morning, sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but a towel, unaware that I was awake. That I’d stolen these moments to study him unobserved. Admiring the curves and freckles of his back. His abundant beauty marks like so many drips of scattered ink. His leftover tan lines from summer. His curls dancing along the tops of his shoulders, tempting me to rise and run my fingers through their feathery coils. It was super early. We’d set an alarm to wake us at sunrise, ensuring we’d be up before my parents could stumble on us together, and because we needed to get back on the road if we wanted to enjoy our first day at the rented house up north. 

After separate showers and many hugs and kisses goodbye, we headed northwest out of Bradford up into Keighley and beyond. It would only take a couple of hours to reach our destination, but because I’d barely slept the night before, I dozed off halfway there. To my shock, jaw-dropping splendor awaited me when I opened my eyes. Haz had tickled me awake so I wouldn’t miss the scenic parts of the final stretch in, and if it weren’t for the fact that mere hours had passed, I might’ve thought we were in a different world. At that moment I was assured: I would remember every detail of this place for the rest of my life.

Turning down Peter Gabriel's "Come Talk To Me" as if I could hear what I was seeing, I craned my head out of the window like an anxious dog

Turning down Peter Gabriel’s “Come Talk To Me” as if I could hear what I was seeing, I craned my head out of the window like an anxious dog. Lush mountains surrounded us. An ocean of green that whirled and swelled without end. Our borrowed Land Rover was but a tiny flitting speck lost among rolling hills that stretched on as far as the eye could see, beneath an endless blue sky. Sheep and cows and horses were scattered everywhere, nosing about, but there wasn’t a single person in sight. They all seemed free to roam at their leisure, untouched by human interference.

 They all seemed free to roam at their leisure, untouched by human interference

This place was positively spellbinding. Shadows cast from the trees swayed hypnotically over the road, coaxing us farther into their clutches. Crumbling stone walls appeared every now and again, marking old farmhouses settled someplace deep in the sun-soaked distance, and it was to one of these we were headed. A place known for its strict terms of confidentiality and security, and accustomed to hosting high-profile figures in search of an unpolluted hideaway.

Eventually we turned off the main road and started down a private drive into the hills. There was an old sign that warned the road had no outlet and my stomach knotted with excitement. At the end of the long stretch, surrounded by trees and private lake, there was a large two-story stone cottage that Haz pulled to a halt front of. I half expected a groundskeeper or hostess to run out and greet us, but no one ever did. We were entirely alone and would be for the next seven days. Holy shit.  

He shut the car engine off and turned to look at me

He shut the car engine off and turned to look at me. My mouth was still gaping. “So…what do you thi—”

Before he could finish, I grabbed his dumb face and planted several kissed to his lips. He laughed as we broke, encouraging me to get out and look around. I did so, wandering in awe up the large set of stone steps to the black double doors. This place had all the otherworldly intrigue of an abandoned castle. Total isolation. A childlike enthusiasm overwhelmed me, and on wobbly knees I stepped inside and took note of the bright, clean smells and cathedral ceilings. All the quaint, old-timey furniture, housed by dark wooden floors and art-blanketed walls. I knew we’d probably destroy this place by the time we were done here. 

Haz ran inside with an exaggerated growl, pretending to be the Incredible Hulk, dropping our bags on the living room floor. He then brushed past me, slapping my ass so hard it stung. I followed him down a long dark hall in search of a light switch which never surfaced, into the spacious kitchen which featured stainless-steel appliances and a state-of-the-art cooking range. The most modern room in the house. I lingered at he massive island, grinning as he played with the pocket doors that led into the dining room like an overgrown two-year-old. Then he said something to the effect of: ‘last one upstairs is a rotten egg” and I rolled my eyes. 

“Babe, you’re soh incredibly lam—let’s fuckin’ goh!” 

I dashed back down the long hall towards the staircase, and he came around the opposite way from the living room. We hip-bumped and sabotaged each other up the entire way. When I finally broke free and crawled up the steps on my hands and knees, he grabbed me back down by the ankle. Our hoarse, exerted laughter echoed throughout the silence of the entire house—of the entire village. Using his size to his advantage, he advanced ahead of me. “Fuckin’ cheater!” I resolved for making things difficult for him since he no longer allowed me to pass. I jumped onto his back and forced him to carry my weight up the remainder of the steps, and he pretended to struggle like we were climbing Mount Everest.

On the second floor there was another long dim hall, narrower than the one downstairs; with gleaming wood floors and a door that led onto a balcony at the opposite end. For some reason, I was drawn to that small, bright opening, because it was like a beckon at the end of an eerie tunnel. While he noisily searched through every room along the way until he found the master suite, I stepped onto the balcony and marvel at the breath-snatching view ahead, still convinced we had fallen off the face of the earth. It was spine-chillingly cold here, and I imagined it would be more ideal in summer. As I stared speechless out at the noon sun, he exited a door to the right of me that led from the master suite. I barely registered he was there until he walked over and held me from behind, kissing my hair.

“You like it, Z? It’s so unbelievable, baby…” he squeezed me until I held his arms in return.

“I can’t believe youh did all this for me..” I blinked back my tears before he could notice them.

“I just needed to get you away from everything, from everyone…to take care of you. Ok?” He brushed his lips back and forth behind my ear, whispering, “Please just let me take care of you…”


After doing the titanic pose, both taking turns being Jack, we headed back in for a shower and a bite to eat, since we had opted not to eat at my parent’s before taking off again. I got undressed first, then sat nude on the edge of the bed because he insisted on doing an impromptu strip tease. Even in this wholesome, puritan setting with its gentle rustic furniture and floral duvet.

“You’re an animal,” I uttered disapprovingly, rubbing my hands together. He looked back at me with a goofy face. 

“Takes one to know one. Now shut it.” He slapped on a generic strip club mix, then ran out of the room to make a proper entrance. I snickered behind my hand, overwhelmed with the awkwardness.

Shut upppp! I can hear you! I need to get into character!”

Alright, alright. My bad, babe. I’ll be quiet, yeah?” Silence answered me. I gazed at the open doorway, falling into the vibe of the music, impatient for him to emerge.

“C’mon babe….”

When I least expected it,  he reappeared, his long hair pulled down over his eyes in a way that made him difficult to recognize. Woah. Wait, why the fuck was this actually working? I could feel my dick twitching when he stared at me unblinkingly through the wavy strands. His little lip bite sent me farther over the edge. I was invested now. 

As he approached, I gazed up at him with a pleading expression, unsure of what I wanted or what I expected next. I held onto his hips, wishing his jeans were nonexistent. Sick of the heavy hoodie hiding his body from me. He simply ran his fingertips down my face, allowing them to unhurriedly drag my lips apart before he retreated. 

I cleared my throat, stomach fluttering, watching as he slowly unzipped his hoodie. He wasn’t even dancing at this point, but every goddamn move he made was subtle and wildly sexy. Fuck yes. Heart-pounding, I lay back onto my elbows, unsure of what to do with myself. When he slowly pulled the hoodie down his second arm, it got stuck and he had to fling it away. It landed on a nearby lampshade, to our amusement. Somehow even his fuckups were erotic. Then went the t-shirt, and I could feel my blood quickening once his drop-dead gorgeous, inked-up torso was revealed. He tossed it onto my head and I inhaled his scents before folding it away to wear later. Now came the jeans, and he danced seductively for a bit, hips swaying to the music, before starting in on the zipper. After he slid them down his hips, he kicked them aside with his socks.

Now came the briefs. The dark Calvin Kleins I’d slid off of him a million times to my recollection. Sometimes grey, sometimes white, sometimes red; mostly just a sultry black that hugged his curves to a fault. Highlighting his massive bulge to no end. Forever teasing me with what lie beneath. Hot, floppy meat, waiting for me to bring to life. My eyes glossed over with lust just thinking about it. Licking my lips, I pulled at my own engorging cock until it was ramrod straight; ready for action. He shook his gorgeous ass directly in front of me, occasionally pulling down his waistband to set his mouthwatering crack on display. When the waiting became too much, I stood in a flash and snatched him over to me, biting down onto his shoulder and grabbing a handful of his cock from behind. His defeated laugh turned me on even more, and I urged him into the shower to repay him for torturing me.

The fridge and pantry came stocked with the essentials one would need to survive in the wilderness for a few weeks, more than we could ever put away in the days we’d be there, plus loads of popular snacks and local confectionaries. Haz pigged out standing up beside the open fridge, and only thought to sit down once I took a seat at the dining table to check my email. The chairs were oversized and cushioned, so I curled up in my seat, pulling his hoodie over my bare legs and zoned out. He came trudging in from the kitchen in a jumper and briefs and mismatched socks, hair still damp, munching on a bag of crisps he’d found. He offered me some but I refused, saying I’d ate too much the night before and was still full. He looked disinclined to believe me, but didn’t want to pursue the matter.

I listened to him loudly chew as we both caught up with friends and family and informed them we were alive. He gave his mom our exact location in case of emergency, and I let my mum know the general village we could be found in, sparing the other details. I didn’t bother telling Pez, since she had a habit of surprising me and might get brave after I was gone for a couple of days. For the novelty of it, Haz lit a fire in the living room and we sat on the floor in front of it with a few pillows, reading each other pretentious poetry in affected accents. Eventually I got around to sharing a few of my favorite poems by Kahlil Gibran, and he returned with a few of his by Bukowski.

We settled for a midday nap to recuperate the sleep lost in our late-night antics, and as I changed into something warmer, he sat in the center of the bed with his guitar, damp hair falling down into his face. He was unspeakably gorgeous, no matter which iteration of him I got, so I couldn’t resist filming, as per usual. I grabbed my phone and recorded a few seconds, then he looked up at me and grinned, dimples peeking from between his hair.

“You’re my world…” 


“Nothing,” I grinned, ending the video.

Our midday nap turned into us sleeping for the rest of the day, then waking up only to fuck and get high in bed. He grew frustrated when even the munchies and drainage from sex couldn’t convince me to eat. We slept again and in the dead of night he kicked me awake. I asked him what was wrong, and he said he wanted a grilled cheese sandwich. 

“Youh sure?” I rasped, unable to deny him because he’d been waiting on me hand and foot and it was only right that I repaid the favor. I was just bone-tired and straight up petrified to venture downstairs by myself. “Youh sure, babe?”

“Mm-hm,” he grinned sleepily with his eyes shut. “Very sure.”


I got up and crept downstairs into the utter darkness in nothing but my birthday suit. Terrifying shadows awaited me in all corners. I ran as fast as I could down the darkened hall, still unsure of where the light switch was, and breathed a sigh of relief when I was able to flick the kitchen light on. It illuminated the entire area, but I still flicked on the dining room light for good measure.

There, I hurriedly tossed together a couple of slices of bread and cheddar cheese, and melted a bit of butter in a pan. One side down, I checked my surroundings, making sure the rear door was still properly locked and secured, before grabbing the hot melting sandwich out of the pan with a spatula, and flopping it onto a plate. After making sure the stove was off, I didn’t bother cleaning up, and ran full-tilt back down the dark hall and back upstairs to my safe place. Unfortunately, he was fast asleep, and the entire trip had been a wasted effort. Unwilling to consider he had outsmarted me and planned all this, I tore into the grilled cheese like a starving man, well…because I was. I was so pleased to eat without him being around to observe, and licked my fingers clean when it was all said and done.


Night three into our trip, with me not having eaten anything apart from the grilled cheese, tensions were beginning to rise. At least on my part anyway. I suppose I was sick of being pampered and coddled like a broken bird. I was a grown ass man, for crying out loud, but he kept treating me like a kid or a patient. Had that been his plan all along? To bring me here for some sort of weird, unsanctioned experimental treatment? He had to be out of his mind if he thought he could pull something over on me.

I eyed myself in the bathroom mirror and I looked like shit. The circles beneath my eyes had only worsened, and it didn’t help that I’d caught a cold while here. My body was struggling to fight off anything at the moment, and I had awoke that morning with a sore throat and a jarring cough. Haz insisted that I should rest all day, and that he’d run into town and get me medicine. Only when a splitting headache overcame me did I take him up on the offer and make my way back to bed in the early evening. He returned later with a few bags and I was propped up at the head of the bed, barely able to speak because my throat was constricting with pain.

“Hey baby,” he drawled, sitting beside my legs on the edge of the bed, then checking me for a fever. “No fever yet…but you’re so ugly. Maybe we should head home? You don’t look so well.”

“M’alright babe,” I laughed weakly. “It’s just a little cold. And I wanna stay for the full week, pleassseee.”

“Yeah…but, Z, I wanna make it clear…you know you don’t have to stay just to make me feel better, right?”

“Trust me, I wanna stay for purely selfish reasons. Youh can goh out and enjoy yourself, maan. Hire a couple of hookers in town or whatevs. I’m enjoyin’ meself…”

“But you can barely breathe, and you haven’t eaten properly in days…”

“I will eat, I promise. I just don’t feel like it right now.” At that, he squinted and looked away in annoyance. 

“Fuck’s sake, mate. You’re actually becoming deluded, I think. You’re not gonna eat later either. It’s getting worse and worse and you don’t even realize it. It’s like you’re addicted to it now or something. It’s all the same things you said yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that—”

“Quit bein’ such a woman, alright?”

“Only when you stop being such a man, dickhead!” He twisted my nipple until I yelled out in pain.

“Ouch, broh,” I winced through a laugh. “I’m sick. Be tender with me, fam.” 

“I’ll give you one more day to see if you get any better, alright?”


“And if you don’t, then I’m hauling your ass home, even if I have to toss you in the trunk—”

“Alright, Ted Bundy, chill.”

“When’s the last time you ate, anyway? Hm? At your parents’?”

“Uh…I dunno,” I gave him a punch-drunk grin, eyes half-lidded. 

“That’s insane, Z, you realize that right? That you’re, like, destroying your body?! That it might never recover? You’re literally taking your health for granted…even with the smoking!” His green eyes flashed with barely contain fury. “Your body needs nourishment to fight off germs and to heal itself and recover. It’s basic science. What are you, like twelve? Do you not understand how any of this works? You’re, like, sabotaging your own system by depriving it of what it needs most. Mate, that’s fucked up.” He grabbed my chin and made me look at him. “It’s not okay, Z, and it’s not funny. Consider this a fucking intervention, alright??”

Shuddup already, Haz!” I slapped his hand away. “Shut up, shut up, shut upppp. I ate the stupid fuckin’ grilled cheese, alright? Happy now, mate?”

“Wait…you did?!” he was genuinely thrilled to hear that, softening a bit.

“Yes, maan.”

Ohhh my god, thank fuck. Mate…” he kissed me and I shoved him away, worried he would get sick.

“Chill, broh. If youh get sick, then we’d both be noh use to each other, and we couldn’t even make the drive home. I know I’m the sexiest I’ve ever been right now,” I coughed into my sleeve. “But youh gotta hold off—”

“Mate, shut up. And you still need broth, anyway.”

“Noh…I don’t.”

“Yeah, Z, you really do. How long do you expect that grilled cheese to last? This isn’t up for debate anymore, I’m getting it!”

“Back off, bitch!” I snapped, glaring him square in the eye.

“Fuck you, alright?! I’m getting the broth! Just shut the fuck up about it, for fucks sake!”

My brows shot to the top of my head in bemusement, and I couldn’t withhold a small smile of gratitude that someone loved me enough to not take no for an answer when I was literally self-destructing. Everyone else practically acquiesced my every whim and agreed with my slightest word, sort of like my abject refusal to eat, but not this guy.

“Okay…” I said quietly.

After I finished a few sips of broth, watching him tidy up the room, I was irrationally turned on. I knew he was still upset with me, but thought I’d try my hand at getting him to come to bed early anyway.


“What?” he replied, grumpily. 



“Youh still mad at me, huh?”

“Grow up.”



“Look, babe, I’m soh gorgeous.” I stuck a finger up my nose. “Youh wanna make love to me?”



“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re sick and because you pissed me off. And because you don’t even trust me to talk about what’s going on. That’s what hurts the most. I feel useless.” He grabbed the tray with my mostly still full bowl and took it downstairs, and even on the second floor I could hear him shattering it in the sink with a livid curse.

He came to bed that evening with a determination not to speak with me, and I lay quietly on my side of the bed, watching him shut out all the lights. He then pulled out his laptop. I turned the TV down so that it wouldn’t disturb him, and watched him work. He scrolled for a while before I grew tired of being ignored. The highlight of my day had been showering and chain-smoking on the balcony alone while he went out jogging and enjoying the scenery. I knew I was being a killjoy, but for some reason couldn’t get the stick out of my ass and salvage the remainder of the trip. For some reason I was incredibly irritable and was beginning to withdraw from weed. I hadn’t brought enough, forgetting it’d be used twice as fast with him around. But enough was enough. I shut his laptop with no words exchanged, then forced him to spoon me. Despite being pissed, he wrapped his arms around me from behind and breathed into my hair, tickling the back of my neck.

My dreams were of him. We were back in the car, headed someplace else unknown. He was singing a Fleetwood Mac tune. “Go Your Own Way” We drove through the night to some pitch-black field, then parked at the precipice. It started pouring rain. We sat in silence, the windshield wipers rocking the car. The he told me to get out. I begged him not to leave me, but he shoved me out of the car and drove away. 

I awoke to his fingers in my ass. He was working me open, lubing me up. All I heard was his shuddering breath and the sounds of my slippery hole. Now the fap of his cock as he jerked himself, quivering behind me. Then I felt the persistent pressure of his flesh slipping between my cheeks and probing my warmth. Seeking entry. It was just what I’d asked for, and despite being pissed, he was acquiescing. He broke inside and I whimpered to let him know I was ready. He groaned and grunted at my slightest movement, pausing to relish me clenching around him. I clenched again and he grabbed me back into him with a guttural moan, barely able to thrust. He seemed more upset than turned on.

Let me in…” he whispered groggily into the back of my head. His sleepy thrusts becoming more pitiful as emotion overwhelmed him. “Please…let me in…”


Day five into our trip, and the magic was completely gone. My cold hadn’t budged, and neither had my appetite improved. I grew weaker by the hour, and Haz was beginning to come down with something too, as we couldn’t stop making love no matter how sick I was.

“You ok?” he asked that afternoon, quite literally helping me get dressed as I sat on the edge of the bed. We’d decided to take a drive into town so I could see some different scenery. He was starting to fear I was becoming depressed, and that was the total opposite of what the trip was supposed to be for me. Essentially we were just living the same day over and over again, and both wanted out. Although I knew I had ruined his grand plans for the trip once I got sick, I still wanted to blame him. Truth be told, he was the only person around for miles that I could beat up on.

“You ok, Z? Hold up, let me lace them—”

“Tell me sumthin’, Harry. Do I strike youh as a person who needs to be checked up on every second of the day? Huh, broh? What am I? A toddler? An old man? Some addlebrained junkie?”

“Mate, I was just asking—”

“Hey, how about back the fuck off already?” I snatched my boot away and tied the laces myself. “I don’t need help puttin’ on me fuckin’ boots, broh. Get outta here.”

“Fine,” he spat, rising and backing away. I could feel him fuming as I laced up my other boot. All of a sudden, he picked up my pack of cigarettes from the bed and crushed them in his fist before dropping them to the floor.

“Fuck youh!” I hollered after him as he stormed from the room. I tried to salvage as many Marlboros as I could with shaky fingers, but they were all bent and falling apart. Strangely, I whimpered with a rush of emotion. 

“Stupid fuckin’ twat!” I screamed down after him, running to the top of the staircase. “I hate youh, youh bastard!” Then I sat back down on the bed and fumed, becoming more enraged by the moment. Wanting to confront him. Wanting to slap him. I ran my hands roughly up and down my face. He needed to go out and buy me another pack asap or I wouldn’t last the next two days. I stood up, perhaps too quickly, and the room began to spin. The lights flickered, but the effect was only inside my skull.

“I’m not a fuckin’ patient right!” I screamed to no one. “I didn’t come here to be smothered! I’m not some fuckin’ invalid! I don’t need youh to save me!” Somehow I heard him speaking to me through the walls, although he was nowhere in sight. The voice didn’t even sound like him, to be honest.

“I’m sorry, Z. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I know you’re not weak. I know you can take care of yourself…but I just wanted to take care of you for a little bit. I know no one else will make you feel loved…not the way I can—especially not Perrie—” The voice trailed off and then vanished. I blinked through blurry vision at the empty doorway.

Gross, I could smell him everywhere. I was so sick of looking at his shit lying around. Taunting me. In a rage, I snatched his shirt off my back, and in the vanity mirror that sat outside the bathroom, all I could see were my bones. Sharply protruding. Announcing their presence and reminding me that I was but a walking corpse. I hurriedly took all my clothes off to see the rest of them. Jutting everywhere. My ribs, my hip bones, my wrists, my elbows, my knees. No fucking wonder he was freaking out. I was nearly emaciated.

What the fuck was I thinking, doing this to myself? Again and again. I’d done it a few times growing up, worried if I gained the slightest bit of weight that it made me look hideous. My dad had been so into fitness, some of his comments about my weight had stuck with me forever, and they were my sole source of motivation whenever I felt I’d gotten too fat. But this…? This was different. I hadn’t done this to myself because I felt fat. I hadn’t felt fat for years. I’d done this because I needed to rebel. Needed to take back control in my life, somehow, someway, and I fell to old tricks I knew would provide the necessary shock value.

It was supposed to be a ‘fuck you’ to the label for rejecting my identity, and an even bigger ‘fuck you’ to the world who I’d been conditioned to please. Not allowed to dye my hair. Not allowed to grow a beard. Not allowed to sing the songs I wanted to sing in the way I wanted to sing them. They had all forced me to lean into my white roots, subconsciously conditioning me to forget all else. That I was brown. That I was a Muslim. That I spoke with a grating Bradford accent. That I loved soulful music. That I had tattoos. That I smoked. That I walked with an unsightly swag.

Starving myself had been an unspoken hunger strike, but so far it had only backfired and driven Haz up a wall. I knew sooner or later it’d get bad enough that others would take notice and begin wondering why that boy was starving himself, and by then maybe it’d be too late to save me. That had been the plan, right? Isn’t that what I wanted? To be too far gone to be saved? Holy fuck…this was actually suicidal. And now, eyeing myself in the mirror, seeing the grim work I’d done, it all felt like the biggest L of my life. 

Fuck this room. I was sick of it staring at me. In my head, this was a clinic and I needed to break free. With such self-disgust that I gagged, I drug my clothes back into place, hiding my gaunt figure from my own eyes first and foremost. Then in nothing but a t-shirt  and jeans, unlaced boots with no socks, I walked out the door into the glaring sunlight. I had no idea where I was going, I only knew that I needed to get away. I let the door shut quietly so the warden wouldn’t hear me. I’d be long gone before he even realized I was missing. Problem was, I’d failed to take my phone, so I had no clue in which direction to head. This was the endless English countryside. Everything looked exactly the same. I only remembered the general direction of the nearest town where we had stopped for petrol, so headed that way, hoping I’d make it before night set in.


Zero cars had passed. After walking a few miles, I dipped off the side of the road to take a leak. I was fucking starving now. My insides gnawing away at each other. What little broth I’d eaten the night before had been worn off in the first mile. After rezipping my pants and heading back towards the side of the road, my knees gave. I fell face forward, only barely catching myself with my hands. Then my arms started to give out, juddering beneath my slight weight. I wished I could channel the Incredible Hulk just now. Bruce Banner my way the fuck out of this situation. Sprout muscles that ripped right through my puny clothes. Put all this rage inside me to good use. But I was super parched and disoriented.

Since when was I in a desert? Since when were deserts freezing cold? Since when did my heart only beat 30 times a minute…barely? I could hear it thumping away. Each pump a struggle. Futility thrusting blood to organs that had already closed up shop. Limbs that had already betrayed me and would no longer budge.

At last my arms gave and I fell flat, face against the chill dirt. Cool autumn air blanketing me and rattled me to the bone. I shivered all over uncontrollably; teeth knocking together. Migraine splitting my skull. As a final gift to myself, I found the strength to slightly turn over and lay on my back so that the ground wouldn’t smother me. There I lay alone and wheezed, gazing through a darkening sky at my grandad’s smiling face. He was beckoning me onto new horizons. Heavenly paths we could stroll side by side, safe from the obscenities of this world.

(Thanks for reading!❤️)

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