Never Let Them Define You

LIVING IN THE UNEXPECTED

Her eyes shoot open and she grasps at the covers. "Where the hell am I?"

"The hospital," says Marco.

"What, why? No, I'm fine, really." She laughs as she reaches for her IV, but he gently puts his hand on her arm, and shakes his head slowly.

"Another half hour, love."

"A half an hour? That's ridiculous! I have work to do, urgently."

"I understand, but your foot isn't quite ready yet."

"What happened to my foot?" She looks down with wide eyes at her cast. "Be honest with me, Marco," she grabs him by the shirt and whispers, "Am I going to die?"

"What? No, you're being ridiculous, you just sprained your ankle, and you're gonna need to wear that cast for four weeks."

"Four weeks?! How am I supposed to dance with a cast on?"

"Well, you won't...in fact, you won't be able to do anything; you're gonna have to stay in bed."

She gasps, then pulls on her hair, "It's not possible! This isn't happening, no, no, no!"

"Relax, love, Jesus Christ, it's not that serious...you'll be back on your feet in no time and-"

"But the company! The company, they'll, they'll fire me, and haven't you heard? Josephine is producing my project!"

He holds her shoulders and looks her in the eyes. "They're not going to fire you," he lets go, then tilts his head and asks, "and what does Josephine have to do with your foot?"

"Nothing, I just hate her!" She crosses her arms and huffs, then sighs and throws up her arms weakly. "I'm doomed, Marco, doomed!"

"Okay, well, Josephine is harmless, I'm sure there's no major damage she can do to you, and she might not hate you back."

"Oh, no, she definitely hates me..." she looks back and forth cautiously, then whispers, "she demanded to work on my project."

"Why are you being so quiet? No one else is around."

"Because I'm scared, Marco, scared! I am very scared of that woman, and you don't know her like I do."

"How bad could she possibly be?"

She whispers again, "She has bad energy, Marco, trust me on this; I can't give a specific example, because she's never done anything specifically terrible." She breathes deeply and shudders a little. "But she's bad news."

"This all must be the drugs talking." He shakes his head and leans back in his chair. "I'm sure you'll be fine in the morning."

"What drugs? I didn't take any-" She looks at the IV in her arm again. "Are these narcotics? I'm disgusted, quite frankly." She looks around at the walls, which seem farther away than they should be, and she holds her hands in front of her face. "Woah, is it just me or do I have big hands? Wow..."

"Your hands are fine, love, don't worry."

"I'm not worried...it's cool." She smiles dopily and lets out a long sigh of relief. "Once you stop being paranoid, it feels pretty nice." She snorts and cackles, then covers her mouth, and looks at him with wide eyes. "Sorry...is it just me or am I talking kinda weird?"

"Definitely not just you."

"That's mean! Very hurtful of you to say, Marky." She snorts again and laughs heartily. "Marky! That's your name, love, it's Marky!"