In This Starless City

I couldn’t feel much other than the searing pain that was focused in the palm of my hand. The agony was radiating and my entire right hand felt like the blood coursing beneath my skin was boiling.

The cloth-covered surface on which my face was leaning shifted slightly, causing me to straighten to keep myself from falling forward into my own lap. Cologne floated into my nostrils and I knew immediately whose shoulder it was that I was leaning on.

“Jack,” I groaned, bringing my left hand over my legs to massage the slice that ripped through my skin. My eyelids slid open and I looked around, noticing that I was in the back seat of a small car. The yellow dashes in the middle of the road dashed under the hood of the car at a very fast pace. Oliver was driving, Brandon was in the seat in front of me, and Nathan was on my left, and Jack on my right, his arm linked through mine.

“Charlotte, are you okay?” I tried to sit up and I felt Jack’s arm pull closer to his body, keeping me close, as he craned his neck forward to look at me. His eyes were full of concern. “Charlotte?” I realized I hadn’t answered him.

I groaned again, bringing my left hand up to my forehead, relishing in the iciness of my fingers against my feverish skin. “I think so,” I trailed off, my eyelids fluttering until they were wide open and I could look around. “What happened?”

“You passed out, you dipshit,” Oliver snarls from the driver’s seat. I looked at him and I could tell from the profile of his face that he was pretty angry.

”We’re going to the hospital,” Jack says cautiously and I knew he was expecting me to make an outcry.

“I don’t want to,” I made a very weak attempt at an argument, but the pain in my hand made the decision to go very convincing.

“Too damn bad,” Everyone in the vehicle snapped at me and I flinched, cowering deeper in the seat and Jack’s shoulder.

I felt like a pain in the whole world’s ass…

“Wait, what about the show?” I sat up suddenly, looking at Jack so quick that my neck popped and my head swam. He put a hand on my chest and pressed me back against the seat again and I took a deep breath and tried to steady my fast beating heart that was making my headache pound harder.

“We finished out the show while we looked for a hospital near by,” Jack explained. My worries of fucking up a show and angering a venue of fans faded away and I couldn’t help but smile in relief. But the smile was wiped off my face as I looked around and saw the distressed looks upon everyone’s faces.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured so that only Jack could hear me. He leaned his head down so that his lips were pressed to my temple.

“Don’t be,” he said just as quietly and I felt his mouth move against my skin. I was getting dizzy again. “I just want you to be okay.”

I looked down at my hand s the towel around it began to soak through with blood. My stomach rolled and I got more lightheaded. “How far from the hospital are we?”

“A few miles,” Oliver answers in a more hospitable tone and I felt myself relax a little more as I decided that maybe everyone in the vehicle didn’t necessarily hate me and instead were just a little put off by my shit.

Oliver’s riving was worrying enough, but we finally arrived at the hospital in one piece and he was the first out of the car. Though it would’ve had to b a photo finish because as soon as Oliver’s door had slammed shut, Jack was out of the car and was helping me out, gingerly avoiding my wounded right hand.

All of us walked toward the sliding glass doors of the hospital. The night seemed darker than usual and though I knew I had nothing to be afraid of inside those doors, I was subconsciously digging my heels into the concrete of the parking lot regardless.

Jack slid his fingers between those of my left hand, bringing me close to him as we walked through the doors. The smell of latex gloves, medical equipment and clean linen sheets shot up my nostrils and I had to physically keep myself from holding my breath like a child. My entire body had become rigid, stiff, but I continued walking forward until we got to the front desk.

The nurse behind the counter looked exhausted and just looking at her I knew that her shift that night had only just begun. Of course, it had to be quite busy in this part of the largest city in the nation.

“Hey, I was wondering if you could have someone look at my friend’s hand,” Nathan gestured to me and I waved my injured hand at her without thinking.

She nodded and began typing furiously on a computer. Then, she looked up at us. “Walk this way,” she led us down a hallway and I giggled as I noticed my company taking her command literally as they mocked her odd waddling walking style. She led us through a lavender-colored door. “Dr. Watson will be with you shortly.”

I did a double take before making a nervous face to myself, wondering if I heard her right, but then shrugged it off and sat down on the examination table that was in front of me.

I hadn’t realized how tiny those examination rooms were in hospitals until we tried to fit eight musicians in one at once. As I sat on the table, my legs swinging at the knees as I waited not so patiently to get the hell out of there, my friends squirmed uncomfortably around the tiny space that was available. The entire was that was dedicated to a counter top was quite the inconvenience and after knocking over a jar of cotton balls, my company converged to the opposite side of the room for safety.

Jack stayed by my side though, his hand in mine squeezing it frequently and laying his cheek on my head.

Finally, the door opened and tall man with short, brown hair and a mustache walked in. I had to keep myself from laughing aloud.

“I haven’t seen you in these parts for a while,” he says with a white smile. “How are you Charlotte?” All eyes were on me wide in shock.

“Could be better,” I presented my bleeding appendage, my nervousness melting instantly at the familiarity of the man. “How are you?”

He wheeled the stool over and sat before me, taking my hand in both of his to unwrap it. “Always hoping for a stupid girl to slice her hand open with a mirror,” I winced as a piece of glass dropped out of the cloth and clinked on the linoleum floor. “I won’t ask for any details.”

He pressed on the skin on either side of the laceration, causing it to split open again. I bit down on my bottom lip. The pain was excruciating and tears began brimming in my eyes.

“Looks like you’ve still got some glass in there,” his eyes were just inches away from my palm and he was examining it very closely. He released it momentarily so that he could scoot across the room to the counter on the wall. He opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of tweezers. Then, he returned but not before eyeing the line of boys on the wall next to me. “Bring all of your boyfriends, huh?” he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

I laughed, looking at each of them. “Some of them wish,” I saw Alex wink and make kissy faces at me that I ignored. My eyes flashed upward and landed on Jack as he stood beside me, but when our gazes met, he looked down at his feet. My stomach flipped again and at that point, I didn’t know which way was up.

Dr. Watson began pulling the slivers of glass from my hand one by one, each being more painful than that which came before it. I flinched each time I heard a shard drop into the metal pan that he kept on tray beside him. Finally, he pulled my hand close to his eyes again and then placed the tweezers beside the meal pan. “That looks like all of it,” he squinted and then looked at me. “I take it you won’t be wanting stitches in your hand, of all places.”

I swallowed and shook my head. “Not especially.”

He exhaled and looked at my hand again, dabbing the blood that was continuing to ooze out of the slice. “Well, we can try wrapping it though that doesn’t seem to be working very well,”

I nodded. “I can’t play my bass with stitches in my hand,” I say sadly, realizing then that there was no way around it.

But Dr. Watson’s face lit up. “So you did it?” he questioned. “You found a band?” I nodded, smiling despite the lead weight in my stomach. He looked at the boys. “Are you all members of one band?”

“Two,” a select few of us answered together.

“We’re on tour with All Time Low,” I leaned my head toward the boys against the wall and he eyed al of them before looking at me, quirking an eyebrow. I chuckled and looked away from him. “Doubtful. Like I could be so lucky.”

“Don’t be absurd,” he cut me off, though he smiled still. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

I nodded, allowing his words to soak into my tired brain. “True enough,”

Dr. Watson decided that stitches would be the way to go and that they would cover them with glue to ensure they wouldn’t tear. Then, they’d have to stay bandaged for a week or so. He walked out of the room and before the door had clicked shut, the boys were surrounding me and firing question after question.

“How is it that you know this guy?” Oliver asks, jerking his head toward the closed door.

I looked at him with a dumb expression. “We used to live here, guys,” I didn’t try to explain in great detail. “This isn’t the first stupid mistake I’ve made in this city.”

Alex had a thoughtful expression on his face. “But you couldn’t possibly be accident prone enough to actually have a doctor remember you at first sight,” he seemed quite disbelieving.

“Well, I’m certainly accident prone enough, but I suppose he remembers me as well as he does because of how often I was here working and trying to get used to life in this city.”

Dr. Watson reentered the room and the boys turned to look at him before quickly dispersing and allowing him to get close to me again.

“Did I miss out on the gossip session?” he asks as he took a seat on his stool once again, a rather large need, a roll of black thread, and a squeegee of glue in his grasp. I swallowed as the light glistened on the needle, seemingly friendly but all so menacing at the same time.

“We can relay it all to you, if you’d like,” I tried to make my voice sound light, easy, but the hammering of my heart made my voice waver.

Watson took my hand once more, swiping it with an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball and clearing the dried blood from the wound. I winced as the disinfectant seeped into the cut, but gulped down a whimper and looked away as he injected Novocain into the area surrounding the laceration.

And then, just like that, the pain was gone and I watched as he pushed the needle through my skin and pulled it out again on the other side, repeating the process around the slice, closing it slowly. It was a rather harrowing experience, watching him suture my hand closed. It was only about ten minutes before the wound was completely sealed. Watson painted a layer of glue over the stitches and, after waiting for it to dry for just a few minutes, he wrapped it with white gauze, taping it on the top just behind my knuckles.

Then, he rubbed his palms together after laying my hand in my lap gently. “If you hit another mirror and tear those open, I’m going to do this again without Novocain. Understand?” The words were said somberly, but his eyes were shining and I could hardly tell if he was serious or not. I examined my bandaged hand, extending my fingers fully outward. The stitches tugged on the skin on either side of the injury. It was pain fee and it felt bizarre, to say the least.

Watson folded my fingers into my hand. I was comforted by the fatherly persona toward me that he had picked up over the years. I needed that in my life with my parents living across the Atlantic.

“What about when the Novocain wears off?” I ask, upset striking my heart when I thought about the pain returning I have a rather low tolerance and won’t want to be onstage t all if it means fighting through radiating pain in such an inconvenient place as my hand.

Watson thought for a moment before pulling out his script pad and scribbling on it quickly. “Take this to the clinic and get some pain meds,” he handed the small white sheet of paper to me. “Take two a day: one in the morning and one before you go to bed. Ibuprofen will help dull the pain in between, but don’t overdo it. I would rather not have you in here for kidney failure.”

I nodded, swallowing heavily and making a point in my head not to come back to a hospital to be put on a dialysis machine anytime in the near future…or at all.

Watson stood from his stool and opened the door to the room. “That should be it then,” he gestured out of the door. “May I show you to the door?”

I murmured a yes before hopping off of the table. Jack glanced at me warily before walking out the door behind the rest of the guys, leaving me to be escorted out beside Dr. Watson. I looked up at him.

“Have you been back to London lately?” I inquired.

He shook his head. “No, and I haven’t heard from your parents in a while either. I bet they’re peeved because I let you leave the city to travel the country with a band of hormone-driven boys.”

I chuckled. “I’m sure they are a little put off with you,” I muse, looking at my shoes as I walked. There was dried blood on the toes of them and my stomach rolled at the sight, and suddenly, I felt exhausted. I wondered what time it was as we passed the same nurse at the front desk that had been there when we arrived. She looked just as tired as she had an hour earlier. I felt like I was looking into a mirror.

We got to the sliding glass doors at the front of the hospital and as the guys kept walking toward the car, I stopped and looked beside me.

“It was nice seeing you again,” I smile at him and he smiled back at me. I looked down at my hand. “Should I call you directly if anything happens to these?”

He glanced at the guys as they waited beside their individual vehicles. “I think I’ll know the reason behind it,” I fixed him with a glare. “But you’ll know where and how to reach me.” I turned to leave but he cleared his throat, causing me to look at him again. “Are you going to tell me what exactly caused this?”

I stared down at my hand, squeezing my palm with my left hand and pressing my thumb into the gauze. “Just…problems overseas,” I reply, I little shaky as the thoughts came rushing back to me. “I’m helpless over here.”

“Should I be worried?” he already seemed like he was.

I pursed my lips and then shook my head slowly, unsure at first and then gathering some confidence behind the gesture.

I walked back to him, stood on my tippy-toes and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, keeping my right hand elevated and off my arm while giving him a hug. He hugged me back just as tightly and then let me go. I turned and walked to the cars, sliding into the backseat and waving to Watson one last time before Jack slid in behind me and slammed the door behind him.

The car ride through the New York City streets aroused some nostalgia inside of me and with the tossing and turning of the surprisingly thick late night traffic, I found myself growing more tired more quickly.

We turned right sharply, causing me to lean hard into Jack. My head landed on his shoulder and then progressively slid onto his chest. He was crammed into the corner of the car, sitting awkwardly until he lifted his arm and placed it around my shoulders. We were at a straight shot toward All Time Low’s hotel now, but I found that I couldn’t have lifted my head from his chest even if I wanted to.

My eyelids were unbelievably heavy all of a sudden.

The car lurched to a stop in the parking garage and I heard the doors open and slam as people got out.

“Charlotte, we’re at the hotel,” Jack mumbles in front of my face. I didn’t respond. I was too tired. “Charlotte?”

I groaned into his chest, pressing against him harder. He inhaled and then laughed shakily. I wondered if I was making him uncomfortable.

However, I was proven differently. Jack opened his car door and slid toward the edge of the seat, hooking his hand under my knees and pulling me long as he went. He suavely moved out from under me, but kept me sitting upright with one arm while the other wound around my back, pulling me out of the car and to my feet. He pulled me against him to keep me from swaying where I stood. Then, he lifted my arms and pirouetted under them so that they were on either side of his neck. He bent forward and pulled me onto his back, bucking upward and hitching his hands under my thighs and locking them on the back of my knees.

I bent my arms so that they were hooked around his neck and squeezed my legs around his hips so as to have a better grip as he carried me. He buckled again and pulled me further up on his back. I placed my chin on his shoulder next to his head, turning my face toward his neck, exhaling.

His grasp tightened around my legs and he blinked several times as he continued to walk toward the door of the hotel.

I wondered, as we walked into the building and I looked around, why I wasn’t just saving some money and staying the night at my apartment that night. I knew I missed sleeping in my own bed and yet, there I was, checking into a hotel anyway.

“Why are we staying here if Oliver, Brandon, Nathan, and I live here?” I ponder into Jack’s neck. He laughed as took the keycard from the man at the counter and walked toward the elevator.

“Because this is closer to the airport and our flight is early enough as it is without having to calculate traffic holdups,” We stepped onto the elevator and he pressed the button for the sixth floor.

I wondered why he hadn’t insisted on setting me back on my feet by now, but simultaneously, I didn’t mind that he was still holding me the way he was. I felt stupid thinking about how sweet it was of him to do this for me as opposed to forcing me to walk.

I didn’t even have to ask him to be there for me…

“So, are you going to tell me what that mirror did to deserve such a beating?” Jack asks as he stepped out of the elevator and walked toward the designated room.

I picked at the collar of his shirt subconsciously. “Problems at home,” I say simply, not really wanting to go into further detail. “They just got the best of me, I suppose.”

Jack opened the door to the room and stepped inside, allowing the door to slam closed behind me. “I suppose so,” he walked straight for the bed and, to my surprise, fell backwards onto it, causing me to land on my back and him to land on top of me. I laughed as I pushed him away from me, but all he did was roll to his side and then look at me again. “Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so,” I answer. He looked at me hard and I smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Smirking, he walked to his suitcase that had been brought up to his room for him and unzipped it, pulling out a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt. “Excuse me, miss, but I’d like to change now and you’re going to join me…” he trailed off but I was already off the bed and out of the room, dragging my suitcase with me.

I dug out my sweats and a t-shirt and quickly changed into them. My phone had died on the car ride to the hospital and as I plugged it into its charger beside the bed, Jack dove onto the bed beside me.

“I guess you and I are sharing a room tonight,” he says, the excitement clear in his voice and face.

“Huh?” I looked at him.

“Literally everyone else is asleep in their rooms and won’t open the doors. So, we’ve got this room all to ourselves. Too bad you’re not twenty-one yet or I’d insist on having hot, drunk sex with you.”

I was too tired to be appalled by what he had just said to me. “Too bad,” I agreed sarcastically, turning my attention back to my phone that was finally turned on. But what was already an awful night turned for the absolute worse when I saw that I had six new voicemails. I ignored Jack’s inquiries as I listened and with each one, the hopes of my next few days getting better lessened.

Finally, I hung up my phone, my face an expressionless mask and my mind completely blank.

“What happened?” Jack had been asking the same question for the last three voicemails.

I turned to look at him, my eyes watering. “My dad was in an accident.”