𝐷𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑂𝐹 𝑌𝑂𝑈 | 𝐽. 𝑃𝑂𝑂𝐿𝐸

𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝑊𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑌-𝑇𝑊𝑂

Third Person POV...

"Lana, wait—!"

Luna's plea was abruptly silenced as the gunshot thundered through the motel room, its ominous echo dwarfing the sound of her initial scream.

She collapsed to the floor, the force of the bullet propelling her body forward. A searing pain erupted in her upper right back, overwhelming her. For a few moments, she laid there, trying to process what had happened to her, the pain spreading like a wildfire through her body.

Lana, overcome with panic, dropped to her knees beside Luna, her hands fluttering uncertainly over the injured woman, afraid to touch, to make the reality of what she had done any more tangible.

"I...I didn't mean to," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

"Get away from me..." I cried.

Luna pushed Lana aside with all the strength she had left and staggered to her feet, a sharp pain piercing her body. She stumbled out of the motel room, making her way to her car in a daze, her hands shaking as she tried to grasp her keys. Blood was seeping from her wound, causing her head to spin and her knees to buckle. Leaning heavily against the car, she felt her strength dwindling rapidly.

Catching sight of a stranger across the parking lot, she mustered every bit of energy she had left and yelled, "Help me! Please, someone help me! Lana... Lana Martinez shot me!"

The stranger rushed to Luna's side, swiftly dialing 9-1-1 and handing her the phone. Luna took the phone, her trembling hands struggling to maintain a grip as the dispatcher's voice filled the line.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"My name... Luna Perez," she said, the strength in her voice fading with each passing moment. "I'm at Motel 6, and... I was shot by—."

***

Jordan's POV.

"There's absolutely no way that Ralen actually did that!" Juan laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

I couldn't help but nod. "He did! At prom. That's why he got his ass beat! Because he was flirting with the man's girlfriend right in front of him!"

"Alright, we get it, I messed up," Ralen grumbled, his face etched with embarrassment as we all burst into laughter at the memory.

After the guys and I finished getting fitted for our tuxedos, we decided to go around and shop. Now, we found ourselves at Chick-fil-A, laughter echoing loudly from our table in the back of the establishment.

As we enjoyed our meal, reminiscing about old times and sharing stories, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, expecting a message from Luna, but it was a hospital.

Curiosity getting the best of me, I answered. "Hello?"

A voice on the other end spoke, "Is this Jordan Poole?"

"Yes, this is he." I replied. "How can I help you?"

"This is Tiana from George Washington Hospital, I'm calling in regards to Luna Perez.."

Fear pulsed through me as I struggled to respond. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm afraid not," she said. "She was shot."

The news hit me like a freight train. The laughter at the table ceased, replaced by a chilling silence. I felt a surge of panic and adrenaline. "I'm on my way!" I exclaimed.

"What's happening?" Steph inquired, picking up on my urgency.

"I need to get to the hospital!" I exclaimed.

The guys swiftly rose from their seats, concern etched across their faces as they turned to me. "What happened?" Ralen asked.

"Luna was shot," I explained, hurrying out of the building.

The guys abandoned everything, trailing after me as we piled into the car, speeding off toward the hospital.

As I gripped the steering wheel, my mind raced, every thought a whirlwind of fear and guilt. "How could I let this happen? I should've been there," I scolded myself internally, the weight of responsibility pressing down on me like a physical force. Images of Luna, vibrant and full of life, clashed with the stark, horrifying possibility of losing her.

Fuck.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I had somehow failed her. If only I had gone with her, if only I had been more aware, more protective. The endless loop of 'if onlys' taunted me, each one a sharp jab to my heart. The fear that I might never get the chance to see her or hear her laugh again, to tell her everything she means to me, was suffocating me and brought tears to my eyes.

With every mile that brought us closer to the hospital, the pit in my stomach grew. The uncertainty was the worst part—the not knowing. Part of me was terrified of what I would find when we arrived, while another part clung desperately to hope, to the belief that Luna was a fighter, that she wouldn't give up so easily.

"Luna, please hang on," I found myself whispering, a silent plea to the universe. The thought of a world without her was unbearable, a colorless world that I wanted no part of. She had become my everything, and the idea of losing her, of having that her out of my life, was something I couldn't—and wouldn't—face.

As the hospital loomed in the distance, I braced myself for what was to come. The next few hours, I knew, would be some of the longest of my life, filled with waiting, hoping, and praying for a chance to make everything right.

Luna had to be okay.
She just had to be.

***

As Jordan and his friends rushed into the hospital, the scene that greeted them was one of quiet despair. The Perez family was already there, scattered across the waiting room, their faces etched with worry and stained with tears. The sight of Luna's family, so visibly shaken, hit Jordan like a physical blow, amplifying his own fears.

He noticed Luna's mother first, her hands held tightly together, knuckles white with the strain of trying to maintain composure. Her eyes, red-rimmed from crying, met Jordan's for a moment, and in that glance, he felt the weight of shared fear.

Luna's father stood by the window, his posture rigid, gazing out but clearly seeing nothing. The tension in his shoulders spoke volumes about the storm of emotions raging inside him.

Her siblings, usually so full of life and laughter, were huddled together, their somber expressions a stark contrast to the vibrant personalities Jordan knew so well. The sight of them, trying to find comfort in each other's presence, was a reminder of what was at stake.

As Jordan approached, the air thick with anxiety, he could feel the weight of the moment settling over him. Words felt useless against the magnitude of what had happened. Yet, the silent acknowledgment between them, the shared understanding of worry for Luna, forged a connection stronger than words could ever form.

The waiting room became a limbo of some sort. Jordan and his friends joined Luna's family. In that space, filled with hushed whispers and the occasional sniffle, they waited, each lost in their thoughts, clinging to hope during this moment of fearing the unknown.

__________

END OF CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

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