Paper Cranes

Elizabeth

Fay left for the day, promising that she would threaten Ryan, whoever that is, into bringing Brendon some clothes.

"Who is Ryan?" I asked Brendon, tucking the magazine (bag and all) beneath a stack of thick books that sat on my bedside table, read and forgotten.

"A friend." Brendon shifted awkwardly in his stool as the ties of his gowns were becoming looser and looser by the minute. "You've met him before."

"Obviously not formally."

"Oh," He said, reaching around himself to try and tighten the strings, "But you've seen him, at least. Maybe even talked a little. He was the guy with the paperboy hat from yesterday."

"I don't remember," I said, truthfully. I honestly didn't remember. Obviously I only met him for a couple of minutes, or he didn't say much to me if any at all, otherwise I would have remembered him.

Brendon gave me a sort of smile that practically said, "Oh, poor you." It made me cringe slightly. Another pitier, eh? To my surprise, I didn't chide him about it.

"It's okay," Brendon said, "You'll meet him again."

"And hopefully not forget."

"Yeah," he chuckled, still struggling with his strings.

I rolled my eyes, mentally slapping myself. Stop it!

"Come here." I patted the empty space beside me. He sat on the hospital bed as best he could with me taking up most of the space.

Too lazy to sit up by myself, I pressed the button and the upper half of the bed went forward.

The strings were in tight knots toward the end. I laughed lightly to myself as I used my nails to pick at them.

"Hey, stop trying to undress me!" Brendon said – jokingly, I hoped.

"Oh, hush," I replied lamely as Brendon chuckled. I made sure to tie each string extra, extra justfor the hell of it so it wouldn't come loose again.

"What's your family like?" Brendon asked out of the blue, laying back lazily into me.

"I don't know," I hesitatingly answered with a sigh, watching his hair fly from the sudden air, "A lot of them don't visit anymore."

Why do you care anyway? a harsh voice in my head ask. I understood that to be the voice that said things that I really, truly wanted to say.

"Any siblings?" he asked, his voice vibrating through his body, tickling my stomach slightly.

"Youngest of four, a brother and two sisters.," I answered, "What about you?"

"Youngest of five, two brothers and two sisters."

"Aw, you out sibling-ed me," I joked lamely. He laughed. Even without looking at him, I knew it was fake. I thumped him in the bag of the head.

"What was that for?"

"Pretending."

He didn't say anything after that, leaving me a little disappointed. We laid there, him leaning back into me and me playing with the little out-of-place hairs on his head.

Brendon

I had to admit, this was nice.

Elizabeth was so warm behind me, and so soft, like a little pillow.

Her fingers tugged gently at my hair, and I could feel my eye lids becoming heavier.

It was a little weird, sitting there like that. I had only known her for a day or two, and I already thought of her as one of my close friends.

I smiled, remembering how I practically dragged my aunt to this hospital room earlier because I was dying to see Elizabeth and her x-ray eyes. Hear what she had to say.

Every time she looks at me, I feel like she's cutting me open and turning me inside out, examining me like a dissected frog.

But every time I look at her I feel left out. Like I'm missing something. Something important.

She seemed to like me being around.

But...

What would she think if she knew the truth? If I outright told her that I was the lead singer of a famous band? I don't think she would believe me.

But then again, those eyes see through things. Emotions. People. Me.

Would she understand why I lied to her before?

Hell, I didn't even understand why I lied to her before. To be normal, I think it was.

I snorted outwardly, and Elizabeth's fingers paused, before continuing their tugging and stroking.

Honestly, though. What were my reasons? It couldn't be just to be normal, or being anything I wanted. Maybe I just wanted to be happy.

That was it. Happy.

I loved the rockstar lifestyle. The girls. The gifts. The fans. The attention. The money. The fact that I was doing what I loved. Sure, that was all fine and dandy, but it was boring. It wasn't enough anymore. I wasn't happy with it anymore.

I didn't lie to Elizabeth about being famous because I didn't want her to know. I lied because I didn't want to remember.

For now, I just wanted something.

Someone.

Someone different.

Smart.

Brave.

Sarcastic.

Down-to-Earth.

Opinionated.

Funny.

Understanding.Elizabeth.