Drama
Chapter 26: Tragic News
Leila’s P.O.V.
This can’t be happening. No, no they have to be okay. They have to be alright. They’re strong; they can make it through this. They’re my best friends. I know they can.
They’re also Niall’s best friends.
Niall.
I run down the hallway and burst into the dressing room, grabbing my phone from my bag. I click on speed dial and call Niall’s number as I walk back out to where everyone else is standing. No answer. I try again and I get the same thing.
Come on, Niall, pick up your phone.
Nothing. I try 3 more times before I decide to leave him a voicemail.
“Hey, call me back as soon as you can, please,” I beg, my voice a little shaky. I hang up and focus back on what’s happening.
Mr. Conners rushes out and quiets us all down, obvious he’s seen the news.
“May I have your attention please?” he asks, and the crowd shushes. “It’s tragic that the two teenagers happen to be crucial characters in our show. There are many things we can do right now, so please listen up. After this announcement, you may leave, because we can’t film the last half of this episode without them. Now, depending on how critical their conditions are, they might be able to come back in a few weeks. We can either continue on with the show, writing them out of the next few episodes or simply finding replacements for them, but that is harder than it looks. Or we can take a break for a couple of weeks while they heal up and continue on from where we left off after that. I won’t know that answer until I visit them in the hospital, which I will do this weekend. As for the rest of you, show up Monday morning ready to work and I will have that answer which I will tell you on Monday. You are dismissed.”
Our group disperses and heads in different directions. I have to change back into my street clothes, so I enter back in the dressing room and switch outfits. Spencer doesn’t say a word the entire time and I’m so thankful for that. She’s actually minding her own business for once.
Finishing up, I grab my stuff, say goodbye to Bella, Sam, and Brittany, and exit the dressing room. Then I remember I have to go through security. I approach the same woman from yesterday and she knows who I am and what she has to do, so the wipe down goes pretty quickly and I’m free.
I don’t feel comfortable walking, so I wait for the bus to come. As soon as I duck inside the plastic little room, Niall calls. Perfect timing.
“Hey babe, what’s up?” he asks. Just hearing his voice causes a lump to appear in my throat, and my feelings of missing him, the whole Spencer issue, and now Alexa and Max jumble together.
“Have you heard the news?” I question.
“What news?” Niall replies, confused.
“About Alexa and Max,” I inform.
“Uh, no! What happened?” he demands.
“T-they got hit by a d-drunk driver,” I stutter, tears forming in my eyes.
“Are they—”
“No, but they’re in c-critical condition,” I finish for him.
“Oh, my God,” he breathes.
“It was during lunch,” I continue. “They went out to eat and then as they were coming back…it happened.”
“Oh, my God,” Niall repeats. He swallows. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just still in shock,” I answer.
“That’s good,” he responds.
“Hey, the bus just got here. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?” I tell him.
“Okay. Love you,” he says.
“Love you, too,” I reply, and end the call.
The bus stops right in front of me and I hop on, paying the driver. I spot two seats that are open and take one of them, thankful no one else sits by me. The ride is quiet and surprisingly calm, and 15 minutes later I’m at my apartment. I dart in without saying a word and take the elevator to my room, crashing on the couch immediately.
So many emotions are going through me right now. So much has happened in so little time and my brain can’t function with all of this. I’m just glad Alexa and Max aren’t dead, but I want to know how critical this “critical condition” is. That means going to visit them in the hospital.
Since I have nothing better to do tonight, I’m hoping Madison will be able to drive me there. I just have to wait two more hours until she’s home. Hopefully.
Niall’s P.O.V.
The rehearsal dinner went very smoothly and I’m glad when it’s over. I head inside and take off my tux and fancy clothes and slip on my pajamas. My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I reach to pick it up.
5 missed calls from Leila. 1 new voicemail from Leila.
Oh boy. I slide it open and listen to the voicemail.
“Hey, call me back as soon as you can, please.”
I exit out of voicemail and bring up her contact, pressing the “call” button. She answers on the 2nd ring.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?” I casually greet.
“Have you heard the news?” she asks me over the phone. She doesn’t sound too happy.
“What news?” I question back at her.
“About Alexa and Max,” she replies.
“Um, no! What happened?” I insist, concerned.
“T-they got hit by a d-drunk driver,” Leila stammers. I almost drop my phone and instantly start thinking of the worst.
“Are they—”
“No, but they’re in c-critical condition,” she answers.
“Oh, my God,” I breathe.
“It was during lunch,” Leila continues. “They went out to eat and then as they were coming back…it happened.”
“Oh, my God,” I replay, remembering the question I needed to know the answer to. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just still in shock,” she replies. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“That’s good,” I respond to her.
“Hey, the bus just got here. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?” she tells me.
“Okay. Love you,” I say.
“Love you, too,” she ends, and hangs up.
I sit down on my bed and set my phone on the nightstand. How the hell did this happen? The fact that Leila must be torn right now is ripping me up, too. And now my best friends are in the hospital. So much can happen in so little time, and the worst part is I’m not over there to help.
Burying my head in my hands, hot tears form in the corner of my eyes. I can’t take this anymore. Stress is building up inside of me and I don’t know how much longer I can last. Just two more days and I’ll be on my way back to LA.
Knock. Knock.
“Hey, bro, it’s Greg,” he calls. “I kind of overheard your conversation. Are you alright in there?”
When I don’t answer, he opens up the door and walks in.
“Niall?” he says, concerned when he sees my face all red and puffy. “Wh-what’s wrong now?”
“Y-you remember Max, too, right?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Greg answers.
“Well, he’s also on Leila’s show, along with another girl, Alexa, who I’ve gotten to know, a-and, those t-two went out for lunch a-and on t-their way b-back they got h-hit by a d-drunk driver,” I sputter out, the tears coming back.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, sitting next to me on the bed.
“T-they’re not d-dead, but they’re in c-critical condition,” I explain.
“That’s good, kind of,” he says.
“I just don’t know what to do anymore!” I cry. “They need me back there!”
Greg sighs and I become silent.
“Pack your bags,” he insists.
“What?” I question.
“Pack your bags,” he repeats. “I’ll book you a flight tonight that will leave late tomorrow night so you don’t miss the wedding, but you’ll get back to LA in time.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m all grown up. I can do what I want. And I want to help you in the best possible way,” Greg explains.
“I love you, bro,” I say, hugging him.
“Love you, too. Pack your bags because in 24 hours, you’ll be on your way,” he replies, and stands up.
“Thank you,” I respond.
“Get a good night’s sleep, tomorrow’s a big day,” Greg suggests.
“You’re the one who’s got a big day,” I tell him.
“You’re a big part of it, best man,” he says, smiling, and then walks out of my room.
With our brotherly chat causing me to feel better, I do as he tells me and begin packing. I’m over halfway done by the time my eyes start closing and I realize I need sleep, so I get ready for bed and crawl under the warm blankets on my bed. I can finish packing in the morning (hopefully, if my mum doesn’t drag me to do anything else for the wedding), and I’m instantly asleep within the first five minutes.
This can’t be happening. No, no they have to be okay. They have to be alright. They’re strong; they can make it through this. They’re my best friends. I know they can.
They’re also Niall’s best friends.
Niall.
I run down the hallway and burst into the dressing room, grabbing my phone from my bag. I click on speed dial and call Niall’s number as I walk back out to where everyone else is standing. No answer. I try again and I get the same thing.
Come on, Niall, pick up your phone.
Nothing. I try 3 more times before I decide to leave him a voicemail.
“Hey, call me back as soon as you can, please,” I beg, my voice a little shaky. I hang up and focus back on what’s happening.
Mr. Conners rushes out and quiets us all down, obvious he’s seen the news.
“May I have your attention please?” he asks, and the crowd shushes. “It’s tragic that the two teenagers happen to be crucial characters in our show. There are many things we can do right now, so please listen up. After this announcement, you may leave, because we can’t film the last half of this episode without them. Now, depending on how critical their conditions are, they might be able to come back in a few weeks. We can either continue on with the show, writing them out of the next few episodes or simply finding replacements for them, but that is harder than it looks. Or we can take a break for a couple of weeks while they heal up and continue on from where we left off after that. I won’t know that answer until I visit them in the hospital, which I will do this weekend. As for the rest of you, show up Monday morning ready to work and I will have that answer which I will tell you on Monday. You are dismissed.”
Our group disperses and heads in different directions. I have to change back into my street clothes, so I enter back in the dressing room and switch outfits. Spencer doesn’t say a word the entire time and I’m so thankful for that. She’s actually minding her own business for once.
Finishing up, I grab my stuff, say goodbye to Bella, Sam, and Brittany, and exit the dressing room. Then I remember I have to go through security. I approach the same woman from yesterday and she knows who I am and what she has to do, so the wipe down goes pretty quickly and I’m free.
I don’t feel comfortable walking, so I wait for the bus to come. As soon as I duck inside the plastic little room, Niall calls. Perfect timing.
“Hey babe, what’s up?” he asks. Just hearing his voice causes a lump to appear in my throat, and my feelings of missing him, the whole Spencer issue, and now Alexa and Max jumble together.
“Have you heard the news?” I question.
“What news?” Niall replies, confused.
“About Alexa and Max,” I inform.
“Uh, no! What happened?” he demands.
“T-they got hit by a d-drunk driver,” I stutter, tears forming in my eyes.
“Are they—”
“No, but they’re in c-critical condition,” I finish for him.
“Oh, my God,” he breathes.
“It was during lunch,” I continue. “They went out to eat and then as they were coming back…it happened.”
“Oh, my God,” Niall repeats. He swallows. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just still in shock,” I answer.
“That’s good,” he responds.
“Hey, the bus just got here. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?” I tell him.
“Okay. Love you,” he says.
“Love you, too,” I reply, and end the call.
The bus stops right in front of me and I hop on, paying the driver. I spot two seats that are open and take one of them, thankful no one else sits by me. The ride is quiet and surprisingly calm, and 15 minutes later I’m at my apartment. I dart in without saying a word and take the elevator to my room, crashing on the couch immediately.
So many emotions are going through me right now. So much has happened in so little time and my brain can’t function with all of this. I’m just glad Alexa and Max aren’t dead, but I want to know how critical this “critical condition” is. That means going to visit them in the hospital.
Since I have nothing better to do tonight, I’m hoping Madison will be able to drive me there. I just have to wait two more hours until she’s home. Hopefully.
Niall’s P.O.V.
The rehearsal dinner went very smoothly and I’m glad when it’s over. I head inside and take off my tux and fancy clothes and slip on my pajamas. My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I reach to pick it up.
5 missed calls from Leila. 1 new voicemail from Leila.
Oh boy. I slide it open and listen to the voicemail.
“Hey, call me back as soon as you can, please.”
I exit out of voicemail and bring up her contact, pressing the “call” button. She answers on the 2nd ring.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?” I casually greet.
“Have you heard the news?” she asks me over the phone. She doesn’t sound too happy.
“What news?” I question back at her.
“About Alexa and Max,” she replies.
“Um, no! What happened?” I insist, concerned.
“T-they got hit by a d-drunk driver,” Leila stammers. I almost drop my phone and instantly start thinking of the worst.
“Are they—”
“No, but they’re in c-critical condition,” she answers.
“Oh, my God,” I breathe.
“It was during lunch,” Leila continues. “They went out to eat and then as they were coming back…it happened.”
“Oh, my God,” I replay, remembering the question I needed to know the answer to. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just still in shock,” she replies. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“That’s good,” I respond to her.
“Hey, the bus just got here. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?” she tells me.
“Okay. Love you,” I say.
“Love you, too,” she ends, and hangs up.
I sit down on my bed and set my phone on the nightstand. How the hell did this happen? The fact that Leila must be torn right now is ripping me up, too. And now my best friends are in the hospital. So much can happen in so little time, and the worst part is I’m not over there to help.
Burying my head in my hands, hot tears form in the corner of my eyes. I can’t take this anymore. Stress is building up inside of me and I don’t know how much longer I can last. Just two more days and I’ll be on my way back to LA.
Knock. Knock.
“Hey, bro, it’s Greg,” he calls. “I kind of overheard your conversation. Are you alright in there?”
When I don’t answer, he opens up the door and walks in.
“Niall?” he says, concerned when he sees my face all red and puffy. “Wh-what’s wrong now?”
“Y-you remember Max, too, right?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Greg answers.
“Well, he’s also on Leila’s show, along with another girl, Alexa, who I’ve gotten to know, a-and, those t-two went out for lunch a-and on t-their way b-back they got h-hit by a d-drunk driver,” I sputter out, the tears coming back.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, sitting next to me on the bed.
“T-they’re not d-dead, but they’re in c-critical condition,” I explain.
“That’s good, kind of,” he says.
“I just don’t know what to do anymore!” I cry. “They need me back there!”
Greg sighs and I become silent.
“Pack your bags,” he insists.
“What?” I question.
“Pack your bags,” he repeats. “I’ll book you a flight tonight that will leave late tomorrow night so you don’t miss the wedding, but you’ll get back to LA in time.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m all grown up. I can do what I want. And I want to help you in the best possible way,” Greg explains.
“I love you, bro,” I say, hugging him.
“Love you, too. Pack your bags because in 24 hours, you’ll be on your way,” he replies, and stands up.
“Thank you,” I respond.
“Get a good night’s sleep, tomorrow’s a big day,” Greg suggests.
“You’re the one who’s got a big day,” I tell him.
“You’re a big part of it, best man,” he says, smiling, and then walks out of my room.
With our brotherly chat causing me to feel better, I do as he tells me and begin packing. I’m over halfway done by the time my eyes start closing and I realize I need sleep, so I get ready for bed and crawl under the warm blankets on my bed. I can finish packing in the morning (hopefully, if my mum doesn’t drag me to do anything else for the wedding), and I’m instantly asleep within the first five minutes.
Notes
Sorry, filler chapter.How do you guys like this story so far? Please comment/vote!
Rachel :)
Make a Sequel please.
9/13/14