Nineteen-year-old, Bea Somerton, knows exactly how she wants to live. Become a doctor, remain in remission from her childhood Leukaemia and have a happy, normal, life.
The last thing she expects is to meet rising star and troubled musician, Holden P...
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Pain. All I register is pain. It's searing through my body, tearing me open from the inside.
I blink slowly, the ringing in my ears so loud that it consumes my every thought. Bright lights are blinding me through the cracked and broken windscreen.
It hurts to breathe. It hurts as I turn my head to find Holden slumped at the wheel. Blood trickles down the side of his forehead, dripping down his chin.
"Holden?" I croak, my voice tender. I reach out for him, noting the blood coating my hands. "Holden!"
I search the ground for my phone, unclipping my seatbelt. I fall forward, gritting my teeth in pain. My stomach is burning.
My bag is tipped over on the floor, the contents spilling out around me. "Please," I pray. "Please be okay."
Cold relief fills my veins as I find the darkened screen. I bite back my scream, the pain filling my every fibre.
My cracked phone lights up as I call for help. My chest heaves as I look to Holden, unsure about how bad his condition could be.
I try to move towards him, but the pain keeps me still. I move my hand out, pushing the hair from his eyes.
Staring back at me, unblinking, is nothing but his cold, lifeless eyes.
I jerk awake. The room swarms as I let my eyes slowly adjust. The cold lighting of the room gives me an instant headache as I pull at the blanket covering me.
My eyes turn to Parker slumped in the chair beside me. He sleeps soundlessly as I find Charlie and Jett talking quietly beside the window. The needle pulls in my arm as I groan, gripping the chair to readjust myself. I imagine the treatment killing my cancerous cells and it brings me the slightest amount of relief, if not for a short time.
The sound causes Jett and Char to turn towards me, smiling softly. "Hey, sleepyhead," Jett whispers, striding towards the chair. "You've been out for a while."
My heart thuds loudly in my chest as the searing pain in my heart reopens. "Holden?" I croak.
Charlie crouches beside my chair, careful not to wake my sleeping brother as she bypasses him. "He's still–they've just taken him in for surgery."
"I just–" my voice breaks and I heave into my hands, my chest heavy. Jett moves forward, his arms around me as I begin to sob loudly. My hands fly to grip his back as I hold on for dear life. "He died. He died."
