Ever After

Tragedy

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This chapter is in Jack's perspective.

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"The show must go on!" Mrs. Jefferson.

"Why did this have to happen?" Wade.

"Ruined the entire show..." Bob.

"Who fucking cares?" Felix.

"Is he going to be okay?" Mark.

All of these voices buzzed in my ear as I was carried into the nurse's office, hands grabbing at my wrists, ankles, and one under my ass. I would predict that the ass hand belonged to Mark, but I could tell that it wasn't his, for, if it were, how could he be holding my hand and staring me down as he did? I wanted to tell him that it wasn't all that bad, that this was just a minor injury and nothing compared to what Killian's friends had forced me to pursue, but no words could escape my mouth other than the winces from the pain that I made sound unbearable, even though my legs were actually becoming less and less affected by the boiling water per minute.

When we'd finally reached the nurse's office, the nurse (Ms. Grant) already had her arms out, ready to take me on. I was carried over to a medical bed, where I lay and allow her and Mrs. Jefferson to discuss just how exactly I'd managed to become pummelled by a heatwave of boiling water - Mark saved me the task of having to the listen to the two of their nagging voices by approaching the bedside, sticking up just from the end of it, his eyes reflecting that of the lamp on Ms. Grant's desk. It was no use even trying to smile, for it would only come out as a wince, and I didn't bother trying, for Felix, propped up against the doorway (his arm draped around Naomi), already had seen me bitching enough as it was.

"Are you okay?" Mark asked, seeing as I hadn't answered his question earlier (and still couldn't). Discovering this, he found himself to be talking to a brick wall, and decided to make conversation to said brick wall. "That looks... really bad..."

"Well, then, maybe you should stop pokin' my God damn leg," I grunted, feeling his ice-cold fingertip press against my skin for what felt like the fifth time.

Within a millisecond, his finger was detached, his mouth whispering apologetically. I sighed, not feeling the need to bear the pain of thanking him when he'd been the one poking at my injury.

"I don't understand how this happened," Mark muttered in between apologies, perking my interest.

"How what happened?"

"This!" Mark exclaimed, thrusting his arms in my direction as if I didn't know I'd just been drenched by a cauldron. "The script said specifically that it was supposed to be water - just water."

"So what?" I asked, my voice croaking out in pain as I used my elbows to sit up. "You're sayin' someone set me up?"

"No, but it's a possibility..."

"Who would've done that?" I asked, knowing far too many people who would for it to be easy to track down a suspect.

Mark opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately interrupted by the sound of Mrs. Jefferson's disgusting voice ringing out and over the crowd of kids struggling to get a good view from the doorway. "Simmer down, children!" the parrot-sounding witch screamed. "Jack will be alright."

"Shit." Well fuck you, too, Felix.

"But he won't be able to be in the play. Bob, Wade, Felix - do any of you have suggestions for a replacement?"

The three of them stood silently, not knowing necessarily what to do or say other than shake their heads - Felix, of course, just stood there, his arm around Naomi's neck as if he were ready to strangle her.