The Beautiful Musician (Camila/you)

Chapter 17

The sounds of shuffling and chatter started to rouse her from the darkness, the colors beginning to swirl in her vision as she forced her eyelids open.

Her surroundings were blurry and she blinked a few times to try and focus as her mind tried to piece together her shredded memories. Reaching up with her left hand, the singer felt the textured outside of a small bandage on her forehead, flinching when she accidentally pushed on a tender spot.

Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye and she grimaced, noticing a line of black and purple splotches forming on her wrist and trailing up her forearm.

The artist's head whipped up when she heard the 'squeak' of metal sliding against metal as the curtain slid open and Jay appeared in front of her. Her manager leaned down over the bed to gently run a hand through the singer's hair.

"Hey dumbass, how are you feeling?" She whispered.

"I feel like I got run over by a truck. My arm is throbbing and my head feels like it's going to explode." The singer groaned out and closed her heavy eyelids once more, hoping to lessen the pain.

"Stay awake, Y/n. I'm going to get someone." Jay poked her head through the curtain and flagged down a physician that was walking past. She turned back around to face Y/n and gently hit the singer on the shoulder with one of her hands.

"I was so worried! You just dropped to the ground like a drunk sack of potatoes!"

"Awe, you were worried about me? That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Y/n chuckled, trying to joke but groaning out once more when she felt her head pound against her temples.

"Listen here you little shi-" Jay's snarky comment was cut short when a figure came through the curtain.

"Ms. Y/l/n, I'm the emergency room physician, Dr. Sheffield. Do you know why you're here?"

The artist paused for a moment to think. She remembered that they had arrived in San Francisco and that she'd gone sightseeing with Jay; ending the night with one too many tequila shots.

Y/n sat up straighter in bed when she realized that she must have passed out when she'd gone down to get her lost wallet from the Uber driver outside her hotel.

"I think I passed out?" She said unsure, and looked towards the physician for confirmation.

"That would be correct. You were rushed to the closest emergency room and you've been out of it for the past few hours. There's a gash on your forehead from when you hit the pavement and you have some pretty bad bruising on your left wrist and forearm, but nothing of immediate concern."

He set the chart back down at the foot of the bed and walked around to check her heart rate and blood pressure.

"I see no reason for you to be held here. Medically, you are good to go. Please take care of yourself, Ms. Y/l/n, and enjoy the remainder of your tour." The doctor smiled warmly and exited back through the curtain to check on the next patient.

"Well this is going to be hard to hide from Camila."

Y/n scoffed at her friend's words as a nurse came in to check on the singer and jot down some notes; resuming his rounds when he'd finished.

"You think?! God, she's actually going to kill me. This is your fault!" The singer complained, not exactly looking forward to the look on her girlfriend's face when she arrived that afternoon.

"My fault?! Technically, it was your ass that got us into this mess in the first place!" Jay retorted as she adjusted the collar of her jacket and slumped down in her chair.