Ivy
There were fans at the hospital.
How they managed to find out about Michael was unknown to everyone, especially Ivy but they were there, hovering in small groups of twos and threes and fours.
It took about ten minutes for Ivy to recognise them. Most had plaid shirts wrapped around their waists and 5SOS wristbands or t-shirts. They spent a lot of time looking at their phones, until a doctor walked past, then they'd practically pounce for information.
It was ruthless, they were ruthless. Ivy wondered how the boys dealt with the constant adoration and following. It must be exhausting.
"Sorry," Ivy turned away from the hospital coffee machine, facing the red-haired girl she'd been paired with since Luke had found Michael back in the city. "But who are you?"
She felt stupid for not asking until now, but everything had happened so quickly. It didn't seem important then. It still didn't, but Ivy needed a distraction from the prying eyes of the three girls leaning against a nearby wall.
"Sophie," the girl smiled, "I'm an old friend."
"Oh," she paused, unsure of how to introduce herself. "I'm - "
"Ivy," the girl whose name was apparently Sophie interrupted with a smile, "Luke told me about you."
If the circumstances were different, Ivy might have pressed Sophie on exactly what Luke had told her, but instead she decided to text Charlotte. Mr and Mrs Everett wouldn't notice - or care - that it was 10:40pm and Ivy was nowhere to be seen. Charlotte would notice though, especially since she'd been spending a lot more of her time at home now. To Charlotte: At hospital. No cause for alarm. Don't wait up.
Before Ivy exited the message app, the three grey bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen, signalling Charlotte's typing: oh my god, are you there with michael? is he okay? i saw the photos of him being put into the ambulance. the rumours on twitter are crazy
Ivy's mouth fell open a little, she was truly floored by how quickly word had spread and how photos had managed to surface. That answers the question on how the fans knew about Michael. She hoped Luke hadn't been on Twitter.
He'd been hidden away since Ivy and Sophie arrived at the hospital and due to the fact that Ivy suspected the nurses thought they were fans, they probably weren't getting close to him anytime soon. There was nothing to do but wait, and that was the most helpless feeling in the world.
"Do you have Calum and Ashton's number?" Maybe Sophie could help with the one task Luke had asked Ivy to do.
But Sophie didn't have Ashton or Calum's number, and the groups of fans were growing, and nurses and doctors kept brushing past not uttering a single word to anyone. Panic seized Ivy, a single thought suddenly crossing her mind: was Michael dead?
She'd seen some messed up people in her time. It was actually surprising how drugs were everywhere. When she was younger, Ivy imagined drug addicts and dealers to hang out in dark, secluded alleys - away from everyone else - not in the middle of nightclubs for everyone to see. It was actually kind of strange how immune to it she'd become. Even Scooter regularly took pills when they went out, which completely contradicted all of the health and wellness bullshit he pretended to be into.
However, watching Michael's pale body turn limp was like something she'd never seen before. She wasn't particularly religious but at this point, Ivy felt so helpless she began silently praying.
Hours later, she and Sophie were sitting in the awful green-grey plastic waiting room chairs, and doing exactly that; waiting. It wasn't a waiting room for the sick, Ivy had realised around 1am, it was a waiting room for the ones left behind. The ones who cared about the sick patient but weren't high enough on the family food chain to be behind the closed white doors of the intensive care ward.
Most of the fans had left after midnight, though there were still two sitting in front of Ivy and Sophie. One, a brunette, was asleep; her body contorted uncomfortably in the plastic chair, much the same as Sophie was next to Ivy. The other, a petite Asian girl, was staring at her phone, looking up every now and then when one of the nurses passed through the double doors.
Ivy was still staring at her when she looked up, leaving her no choice but to smile at the fan. She felt like she was approaching an grizzly bear in the sense that, yeah, they might look cute but if they think you're about to shoot them with a tranquilliser, they'll soon attack. Luke was a bit like the tranquilliser in this situation.
"You're Luke's girlfriend, right?" She spoke softly, most of her face taken up with a smile. Ivy relaxed a little in the plastic chair, happy to have encountered a friendly fan rather than one who wanted to go all Girls Gone Wild on her scrawny ass.
"We're just friends," Ivy smiled back. Beside her, Sophie flinched in her sleep. The plastic chairs were uncomfortable enough to sit in so how Sophie could sleep in them, Ivy didn't understand.
The girl nodded slowly, her face overcome with sadness. She couldn't be older than 18 and the way her brown eyes were filled with so much worry and fear softened Ivy's heart a little. The naivety in her face reminded Ivy a little of Charlotte, and how much Charlotte was going to learn about the world over the next few months.
"He's going to be okay," Ivy spoke with a quieter voice this time.
"Do you know what happened?"
"Only that Michael collapsed," Ivy answered, it technically wasn't a lie. There'd be a PR team all over this situation, smoothing it over before journalists could print a 5 Seconds Of Drug-Abuse headline. The less she said at this point, the better.
"I'm really worried," the girls chin wobbled slightly. "You probably think we're just dumb fans, camping out here, but they're such a big part of our lives. I'd be devastated if he wasn't okay."
"I understand," Ivy said sympathetically, even though she didn't really. It was hard for her to imagine caring so much for someone she barely knew. "Are you a - "
The doors opened, briefly breaking the barrier between the waiting room and the intensive care unit. Ivy looked up out of habit, expecting to see another doctor or nurse but this time it was Luke, and she flew out of her chair quickly, wrapping her arms around Luke's neck.
"Is he okay? What's happening? I couldn't call Ashton and Calum, I don't have their numbers. Is he okay?" She was talking too fast, the worry of all the quiet hours catching up to her. Luke's small nod was enough to reassure her, and her lungs emptied a heavy breath: Michael was okay.
"Did you want to come and see him? It's supposed to be family only in there but I told them you're my girlfriend," he mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. Ivy wondered if he even remembered that she'd been kissing his best friend moments before Michael blacked out. Was he mad?
Ivy nodded, taking Luke's hand in hers. "Wait," She turned back to the girl, who was watching Luke and Ivy, her friend still fast asleep beside her and Sophie still asleep opposite them. "Do you want me to pass along a message?"
She picked up a card from her lap and gave it to Ivy. Michael's name was written across the front. "Thank you," she said, then gave Luke a shy smile.
It was obvious he wasn't in the mood to speak to anyone but before they walked through the doors, Luke promised to follow the girl on Twitter, and by the look on her face, he'd made her entire night. Maybe they aren't all crazy.
"He's got a lot of tubes and stuff," Luke whispered as they walked down the hall. "So, don't be scared, okay? It's worse than it looks, apparently." The sigh that followed told Ivy that Luke was telling himself just as much as he was telling her. His hand squeezed hers tighter. "And Calum's on his way, he saw the pictures on Twitter."
Ivy didn't ask about Ashton because they stopped as a closed door, Luke's hand resting on the handle, "Just so you know, I'm still pissed that you kissed Michael, but I'm happy you're here."
