Flash!

Greats
I got a phone call late one night. I groaned as the insufferable ringing filled my ears. Wondering why I’d ever put the phone by my bed, I reached out groggily and snatched the phone out of its holder.

“Hello?” I asked, my throat felt like I’d been gargling nails.

A female voice echoed through the receiver, “Is this Frank?”

I nodded, briefly, before realising the caller couldn’t see, “Yes, this is Frank,” I said, lying back in bed and closing my eyes as I held the phone to my ear, “Who may I ask is speaking?”

“Um, this is Lucy Lovett… I’m Audrey’s mother,” the woman said, “I’m c-calling t-to…”

She tailed off faintly and I frowned, “Um… Mrs Lovett? Are you alright?”

“I-I’m passing you over to my husband…” she whispered and before I could say anything I could hear the sound of- I assume- Audrey’s father.

“Hello?” he asked, he reminded me of my grandparents when they used the phone, confused as to how to use this interesting device called the telephone.

“Hello, this is Frank,” I repeated, increasingly annoyed at the fact that I had to be up early the next day for a flight to Paris with Audrey to see Jay about L’amour.

“I’m Audrey’s father, I’m calling from Bellevue hospital, Audrey was admitted here last night,” he said, voice evidently shaking.

Last night? Masking a groan, I rolled over and looked at the clock and learned it had gone three in the morning.

“Is she okay? Has she had an accident?” I asked, sitting up in bed, gathering my Spiderman sheets around me. I’m 19 and I still have Spiderman sheets, I know, but I barely ever bring girls home so why bother changing them? I like them.

“Just… I think you should be here, Frank,” he said, softly and I jumped out of bed, throwing some jeans on over my boxers in the process.

“Yes, of course,” I babbled stupidly as I hung up the phone and threw a shirt on.

I ran down the stairs of the apartment block; I was only on the 9th floor and the elevators were too slow for my liking. By the time I was at my car I was sweating and instantly regretted not taking the elevator.

I drove carefully; I’m a nervous driver by bad experiences. My mother crashed the car when I was nine and I’ve been anxious ever since.

When I arrived at the hospital, everything seemed so blurry, hospitals were another of my pet hates having been in them so often as a child and the familiar smell of anaesthetic and death hung around me.

There was a line at the desk but I ignored it and headed to the front of the queue, “Hello, Audrey Lovett? Is she here?” the woman at the front desk looked past me and I sighed loudly.

“You have to wait for your turn you know?”

I turned to see a man with hair as dark as a raven’s, sipping coffee as he leaned against a wall. His jacket was ripped and made of denim and there were dark stains under the armpits; his skin was pale and he wore dark sunglasses, even inside. His jeans didn’t fit him very well either as I noticed they were women’s cut. There was even a rip protruding out from the crotch area. Does he own anything that isn’t damaged?

“What would you know?” I hissed, venomously.

“I know where Miss Lovett is,” he said. I frowned. Surely someone as scruffy as him wouldn’t be allowed near Audrey.

“You better not be fucking with me, if you know where she is then you tell me now,” I growled. He looked up over his glasses and his eyes appeared to be the weirdest colour.

“I’m not fucking with you, Frank,” he said, pushing off from the wall and brushing past me.

“How do you… where are you going?” I asked, trotting behind him, as fast as my restricted legs could manage.

“I’ll take you to her,” he said, pressing a button on the elevator and turning to look at me, “Okay?”

I nodded, gratefully, “What’s wrong with her?”

He sighed, “I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you… but I suppose you were her best friend-”

“Were?”

“Sorry, poor choice of wording, I meant ‘are’,” I nodded.

“Audrey tried to commit suicide tonight.”

My breath hitched in my throat.

“S-suicide?” I whispered. Why would Audrey want to do that? She has a perfect life!

“Yes,” he nodded, “She took some pills after an argument with her girlfriend or something… I don’t know…”

“She’ll be okay, right?” I asked, quietly. It escaped me as to why I cared what this stranger said. It annoyed me that I was Audrey’s best friend and he knew more about this whole thing than I did.

He nodded vaguely as we filed into the elevator. It was freezing inside and I shook inside my thin clothing, wishing I’d thought to wear layers. I leaned against the wall of the elevator, closing my eyes as it groaned under our added weight. The raven-haired man
Pressed some buttons on the elevator and it screeched into action. I pressed my cool fingers against my temples, I had a pounding headache and the rocking of the elevator did nothing to help it.

“Are you alright?” he said, and I ignored him, the noise he was making seemed to magnify by a thousand in my head and I winced.

As the elevator stopped, I felt his hands guiding me away from the wall and out into the hallway.

“This way,” he says softly and I open my eyes, and the brightness of it all blinds me.

We come to a door with a square window in the centre of it and the man nods slightly at me. I press the door open and see three pairs of eyes looking back at me.

“Frankie!” Lesley James rushes at me, throwing her spindly arms around me. I can already feel her tears seeping through my shirt onto my numb skin.

“Shh… it’s okay,” I whisper, but I don’t know if that’s true because no-one’s told me a word of sense apart from the stranger I met in the lounge.

“It’s my entire fault!” Lesley whimpers into my neck and I rub my back, shooting apologetic glances at Audrey’s parents as Lesley detaches herself from me and looks away from the bed.

Audrey was sleeping, her breathing relatively calm. Her skin looked even more lucid than usual. Her eyes were unusually plain, the remnants of last night’s eyeliner slicked across them and nothing else.

“We’ll give you a moment alone,” her father mutters and ushers his wife and Lesley out the door.

I sit down in the chair nearest Audrey and clasp her hand gently, willing her to wake up. She’s not the same when she’s like this. She’s always so happy and beautiful and pristine and she fucking glows, but not now; not like this. This isn’t Audrey, this is barely even the shell of Audrey.

I stare down at our linked fingers and sigh.

“Hi…”

I look up and see her eyes flicker open, a vacant smile printed across her face.

“Hey, sweetie,” I whisper, squeezing her fingers.

She smiles but says nothing. I don’t know whether that’s because she can’t talk much or because there’s nothing to say but we stay silent.

“Lesley’s in a right state…”

“I know,” she struggles to choke the words out. Her voice comes out in a gargling sound, “I didn’t want to hurt her… I love her.”

They’ve been together for a long time now… about four years to be exact, I can’t imagine them fighting… and yet…

“I’m sorry… Frankie…” she whispers, clutching my hand before whispering five words I’ll never forget, “I don’t want to die.”

My eyes widened, “Y-you’re not going to die, Audrey!”

She smiled, “You haven’t been talking to the right people.”

I felt hot sticky tear dribble down my cheeks as she spoke.

“You need to do something for me,” she whispered, and I nodded urgently.

“Anything.”

“Look after… Lesley for me… I really love her, you know? Help her find love again…”

“You’re not dying on me!” I cry, the tears run freely down my cheeks but Audrey smiles on, “I’m getting a doctor!”

“No!” she cries, with as much determination she can muster, “Frankie, the pills I took fucked me up real bad. Don’t bring the doctor, there’s nothing they can do for me now, Frankie. Don’t let them see me like this…”

“Audrey, I-”

“And I want you to find love too, Frank.”

“What?”

“I’ve known you for years,” she giggled, “You haven’t had a girlfriend in like... ever! Free yourself. Let yourself fall in love. You deserve to be loved.”

I smile slightly at the sentiment and a comfortable silence falls over us again. I can’t find the right words to utter. I can barely look her in the eyes because the glimmer is gone. But Audrey is there somewhere.

I used to tell her she reminded me of Audrey Hepburn; she was her role model. We did a Breakfast at Tiffany’s shoot once, with the cigarettes and stuff. The photographer was about as fun as a circumcision but Audrey made it fun, especially when our agent, who was getting increasingly annoyed with the photographer (“He just doesn’t seem to be connecting with either of you…”), told him to have the rest of the day off and Audrey asked me to take some pictures. The feeling of deluded power I felt was irreplaceable.

“Smile, Audrey,” I called to Audrey’s distaste.

Click.

“I’m going for the moody look, can’t you tell?”

“Yeah… how ‘bout you go for the Audrey look?”

“Which Audrey? Me or Hepburn?”

I sighed, “You, idiot.”

Click.

“But what about Hepburn? I wanna look like that! And Sedgwick, and Monroe! All of the greats!” she gushed, fiddling with the cigarette we’d bought as props.

“Yep, and they all died pretty young,” I say, “Except Audrey… she lived a pretty long life.”

“It’s sad isn’t it? All our idols are dead,” she says, thoughtfully, placing the cigarette between her lips.

“That’s because there isn’t anyone alive to idolise, apart from you, obviously,” I grin playfully as I snap another picture.

She smiles, “Except I won’t die young.”

“No, you’ll do a Hepburn, we won’t be able to get rid of you.”

“I hope so…”

Click.

The sound of Audrey’s quiet voice penetrated my thoughts and I looked down at her as her lips moved slowly.

“Sorry, Frankie…” she whispers, “I’m not like Audrey. I didn’t live as long as I said I would.”

I sniffed, trying my hardest to smile at her, knowing she was speaking the truth. She was dying. I wanted her last memories of me to be happy, I want to smile down at her as she leaves this world, stepping into the Great Unknown, knowing she made her impact on at least one person.

She doesn’t want Lesley to see it, it’s evident.

“Looks like Paris is off,” she said and I giggled softly, nodding gently.

She closed her eyes gently and sighed contentedly, murmuring something I couldn’t understand. I rubbed her hands gently as the heart monitor slowed.

“Love you, Frankie.”

“Love you too, babe.”

A heartbeat.

A flicker.

A line.

The greats are all dead now.