Fake My Smile

Lyndsey’s P.O.V

“There’s something not right,” I told Brian as we walked up to Rosie’s apartment. “She hasn’t been answering her phone and I saw Hayley earlier and she looked like she was either going to kill someone or cry and she wasn’t wearing her ring. Something has happened and if it’s got something to do with Zacky then I’m...well I’m gonna kick his fucking ass is what I’m going to do but I need to make sure Rosie is okay.”

Brian nodded and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, dropping a kiss to the top of my head.

“I know baby. You don’t need to convince me okay? But I’m sure everything is okay.”

I bit my lip wanting to have the same hope that Brian did but there was something in my gut telling me that there was something wrong and I couldn’t shake it. I knocked on Rosie’s door but got no answer so I decided just to use my own key. I opened the door and stuck my head in.

“Rosie?”

I didn’t get an answer and that worried me because I saw that her apartment keys were hanging up on the wall so she was definitely in. I looked back at Brian and he shrugged. There was definitely something not right.

I walked in and pocketed my keys as I looked around the room, walking a bit further in before looking down as I heard something crunch under foot. My brow furrowed and I crouched down, realising that I’d walked on one of Rosie’s vases. Or at least the shattered remains of one of her vases.

“Okay, something is definitely not right,” I voiced.

“No shit,” Brian muttered and I looked at him to see him looking at something else.

I got up and walked over to him, peering over the couch to see what he was looking at. My eyes widened as I saw the coffee stain against the wall and the broken mug that was lying against the carpet.

“Rosie?” I called out, trying to hide the panic in my voice.

“Rosie?” Brian called out.

I bit my lip and walked through the apartment, poking my head in various rooms but not finding her.

“Where the hell are you?” I asked myself as I walked into Rosie’s kitchen.

I froze, my mouth dropping in a silent scream as I finally found my best friend. I could feel my heart thundering in my chest as I looked on at Rosie collapsed on the ground.
"Brian!" I finally screamed, skidding over to Rosie and dropping to my knees beside her, already hearing loud footsteps coming from the other rooms.

I reached out to her, pressing two shaking fingers into the side of her neck, silently begging to feel the beat of her pulse against my fingertips. I didn't feel anything at first and frantically reached for her arm, my fingers pushing into the spot at the very base of her wrist while my eyes stayed glued to her chest, waiting, praying to see the rise and fall of her breathing.

“Come on, come on, come on…" I begged in a whisper, mind whirling into overdrive. I really didn't want to have to do CPR on my best friend.

"Lyndsey, what…" I heard stumbled steps behind me before Brian shot out, "What the fuck happened?"

Suddenly there was a jump against my fingers, both against her neck and wrist, followed by the very unsteady, very faint thumps of her pulse and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"What happened?" Brian was asking again, kneeling on the ground beside me.

“I don't know," I sniffed, tears filling my eyes, reaching out to adjust her head, tilting her jaw up slightly to make sure her airway was clear.

“Is she okay?"

"I don't fucking know, Brian," I said, harsher than I meant to, and I was about to raise my eyes to his when something caught my eye.

Bottles; half a dozen booze bottles lined the kitchen counter, some turned over, all of them empty. Lying beside her on the floor, right next to her lifeless hand, was a half empty bottle of whiskey, some of the clear liquid in a puddle on the floor.

“Brian, we need to get her to the hospital," I said vehemently, keeping my fingers to her pulse, hoping, praying, and needing it to keep beating. "She probably has alcohol poisoning, she needs to get to the-"

"I think she has more than alcohol poisoning," Brian said slowly, and I turned to see what he was holding.

In his hand was a small orange bottle of prescription pain killers that Rosie had been given a few years ago after breaking her arm; it was empty.

"Where-"

"Here," Brian said, pointing to the floor by Rosie’s shoulder, where two lone white pills lay.

Fuck.

"We need to get her to the hospital five minutes ago," I growled, pushing myself to my feet to pull my phone out of my pocket, but stopping when I saw Brian lifting her into his arms.

"Brian, what are you doing?" I asked, sounding almost frantic and feeling it, too, heart thundering in my chest. "We have to get her-"

“We're getting her to the hospital," Brian assured me.

"No, we need an ambulance," I insisted almost shrilly, getting down beside him with my hands on his shoulders in a stupid effort to pull him away. "We need to-"

"Baby, she's going to get to the hospital," He assured me, looking into my eyes with such confidence that I was almost instantly calmed. "We're taking her, and we can get her there faster than any fucking ambulance. You just need to get the door for me, and sit in the back with her, okay?"

Nodding, knowing he was right, I pushed myself to my feet and ran to get the door while he lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

Eyes on my best friend, heart in my throat, I pushed back tears and followed them out the door, silently praying to whatever God there was that I wouldn't lose my best friend.
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I chewed at my lip as I waited for the doctor that had rushed off with Rosie to reappear. My fingers were tapping at my knees and my knees were bopping up and down.

“Baby, stressing isn’t going to help.”

I moved my vacant stare from the floor and looked at Brian as he sat patiently beside me, though I could see the fear in his eyes. I sighed and nodded as Brian pulled me towards him, taking one of my hands in his and tangling our fingers together.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you before...”

“Don’t worry about it,” he cut me off and kissed the side of my head.

I shook my head. “You didn’t...”

“Lyndsey,” he stressed with a small smile. “It’s okay, honestly. You’d just found your...look it doesn’t matter okay?”

I took in a deep breath and nodded before looking up as the doctor came back and said my name. Pushing myself to my feet, knees almost knocking together, I took a few unnecessary steps towards the doctor that I worked with every day. Brian was right beside me, hand tight around my own, and he squeezed my fingers.
"Doctor Neilson," I breathed, looking into the blue eyes of the man that I had grown to trust over the years. "How is she?"

"Stable," He said immediately, smiling slightly at the way I sagged against my husband's side, relieved.

"Thank God," Brian whispered, lips pressed to the side of my head as his arms wrapped loosely around me.

"For the moment, she's stable," Neilson clarified, watching me closely before he took another step forward and lowered his voice. "It was touch and go for a while, and we had to resuscitate her once, which is a given with all of the alcohol and narcotics in her system. We had to pump her stomach, and she has an IV for fluids to wash everything out of her body and keep her hydrated," He was explaining, though not for my sake; I'd taken care of many patients who had come in from overdosing, and had had to work fast to get their bodies clean from the toxins they had so willingly used.

"She's okay, though?" Brian asked, pleading in his voice, not only for himself but for me. "Rosie's going to be okay?"

There was a pause; a pause that I knew well and I closed my eyes, tears sliding from my aching eyes and running in rivets down my hot cheeks.

“It's too soon to say for sure," Neilson finally explained slowly. "We are closely monitoring her, and there's no way of knowing just yet what kind of damage there can be. But she is stable right now, and if she continues to stay that way through the night-"

"She has a chance," I finished for him and a whisper, and opened my eyes before managing to ask, "Where is she?"

Smiling sympathetically at me, Neilson told me the room number and I took Brian's hand, pulling him in a rush through the waiting room and down the hall to the third room on the right, just across from the nurses' station where our friend could be easily seen and reached.