“We have?” I frown. Fuck, not him, too.
“Yeah, but it’s okay. it wasn’t that memorable. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” I throw my hands up into the air and look around, trying to make sense of what just occurred.
“The nurse will be here in a minute to check you out,” the giant reassured me.
“I’m fine! I need to go see Jez.” I make for the door.
He takes a step to the side, blocking. It’s the first move he’s made that intimidates me.
“Er, ma’am. You can’t, he’s… he’s getting checked out as well.”
“‘Ma’am?’ The name’s Noemie. What the fuck was that? Were they paparazzi?”
He squirms, and I know the answer.
“But why would they be taking pictures of Jez?”
Again, he doesn’t say anything, like he’s been trained not to. I have no idea what’s going on and it’s making me anxious.
“Mike, I really need to see him.”
“Ma’am, he’ll come and see you when he can. Now, I’ll be right outside, if you need something. Those people shouldn’t bother you again.”
I throw my hands up in the air again, an action of complete helplessness. I have my own body guard now? Seriously, what the hell just happened?
Mike leaves the room and closes the door behind him. As promised, he sits on a chair right outside, and I can’t help wondering if I’m the prisoner or the guarded.
Either way, I don’t think Jez is who I think he is. Then I realize, I don’t really know anything about him at all.
JEZ
“Dennis!” I shout. When I get into my room, he’s there with the rest of the band. “What the fuck was that?”
My manager looks about as angry as I feel, and he throws his hands up in the air as he paces in front of me, his face turning a crimson red. “Sorry, we’re not sure how, but the media got wind of where you were. Luckily, Emily’s editor called her to give her a head’s up that he’d heard murmurings. So we got here as fast as we could, we came off one of the other elevators just as they were crowding around you. We’ve got people posted downstairs now. If they look anything like a pap they won’t be allowed up.”
“Fuck me!” I say, sinking down onto my bed. It’s been three months since I’ve had to deal with that kind of ambush. I thought I was used to it, but the quiet of the hospital must have really decreased my tolerance.
“Noem-…” I start.
“Your friend is fine,” Dennis cuts in. “Mike is with her now.”
I don’t even ask how he knows who I’m talking about. I know he just knows.
“Well, make sure he doesn’t scare her. He’s the size of a fucking moose.”
“She’ll be fine.” And I know she’s in good hands. But it’s not her physical welfare I’m worried about right at this moment. I’m more concerned how all this must look to her. Why in the world would the paparazzi being looking for me?
“I’ve gotta go see her,” I jump back onto my feet.
Dennis holds his hands out, stopping me. “No, Jez. You can’t. Just, wait a minute. We’ve gotta talk.”
“What about?”
“About you being ready to leave.”
I’m not quite sure I hear him right. “What?”
Dennis sighs and pats my shoulder. “Look, the doc is coming up to talk to you right now, and I think he’s going to tell you, you’re ready to leave.”
“What? What are you talking about?” I’m praying so hard right now that I’m not hallucinating.
“Marius overheard the nurses talking about your room being free soon because you’re leaving. You can probably go home in a few days, Jez. Well, not home, but leave the hospital. We can talk about where you want to get settled while you finish your recovery.”
Holy fuck. “I can leave?” I wonder how many times I’ll repeat it before I believe it.
“Yeah, man. It seems like it.” Sebastian comes up and gives me a wink.
“Oh my god.” I can barely process the thought. “I can leave?” I repeat. “Holy shit, I can fucking leave!” I yell, raising my arms in the arm, and getting rewarded with a searing pull somewhere in my shoulder.
“Take it easy, man. You can go home, but you’re not fully healed. But the important squishy stuff, your lungs and your internals all look good.”
I can’t help but scoff. Important stuff? I look down at my hands, they have a long way to go yet. It seems ungrateful to tell them that to me my hands, they’re the ‘important stuff.’ But it’s still good news all the same.
“Shit.” I exhale.
“You ready to go?”
“I’ve been ready since the first day I woke up and saw your ugly mugs looking back at me with those teary puppy dog eyes. I think I even heard Brad praying at one point. So, when do you think I’ll be able to go?”
“I’m not sure. Last time we talked to the doc, he said he’d give you a few days’ notice, remember? So, I’d say, get your shit ready, it’ll probably be a couple more days yet, but definitely by the end of the week.”
“How do you feel about that?” Sebastian asks. “I mean, I know you’ve been here a while. Did that welcome from the poops, I mean, paps, make you happy to return to our world?”
And as soon as he asks the question, I realize, the truth is, I don’t know.
I don’t know how I feel, because I don’t know if I will be returning. With the way my hands are, I sure can’t be performing in the near future.
As if he’s hearing my thoughts, Seb reaches out and pats my on the hand.
“No rush, bud. No rush. We’re not going anywhere.”
And I know he’s trying to comfort me, but not for the first time, an overwhelming sense of guilt takes over.
“But that’s it, you have to! You can’t just wait for me. You know… this isn’t going to last forever, it took us months and years, all this time to build that wave. You guys, you’re supposed to be riding it. Not be sitting in a hospital room watching soap operas with me while all our hard work goes down the drain. I mean, I heard them, the fucking paps, people want their money back cos we’re cancelling tickets! That shouldn’t be happening.”
“Whoa, dude, all that shit is being taken care of,” Brad reassures me.
“I…I don’t even know why we needed to cancel.”
Marius frowns, looking at Brad and then back at me. “You mean, you think we should go on tour without you?”
“Well. Fuck, yes! Argh!”