Without You (James Franco Fanfiction)

Chapter 12

-Scarlett-

The harsh, sickening and almost suffocating scent of chemicals assaulted my nose. Sitting up too quickly, I felt a rush of blood go to my head and I immediately became dizzy. Unable to recognise where I was, I began to panic and tried to swing my legs over the edge of the bed before I was stopped by someone pushing them back onto it.

"Hey, try to relax okay?" I heard James instruct from beside me. I felt his large hand clasp mine and the other rested on my arm. He gently ran his thumb over the back of my hand, calming me down. As my vision slowly came back, I focused on James and tried to force a smile. Once I could see clearly, I gasped at the sight of his bruised face.

He looked horrible. Now probably wasn’t the time to be a fashion critique, but this is James Franco. He’s endorsed by Gucci, for goodness sake. His hair was pointing in all sorts of directions and he looked like he hasn’t showered in days, or changed his clothes for that matter.

"James?" I barely managed to speak. He looks up and races over to you, grabbing your hand so tightly, as though he were afraid to let go.

"You look horrible," I said, breaking the silence.

Instead of replying with something witty, sarcastic or self-centered, he lets out a cry of joy.

"Oh god, you’re okay!" He grins, waving his hands in the air.

“Your face…”

"It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" He laughs.

"What happened?" I asked, frowning at him. His gorgeous face was now covered in a few small cuts. His right eye was bruised and swollen, almost as if he’d been in a…

"Fight," James nodded, as though he had just read your mind. "Don’t worry about me though, let’s worry about you. Unlike you I can get makeup artists that can fix this up," He grinned cockily, gesturing towards his face.

 I rolled my eyes, "So can I. My band just doesn’t want that."

"Well okay then Scar," He chortles, "Whatever you say."

It took me a while to process his words but once I had I felt like my dizziness had worn off. My mind was catapulted back by two years. Did he really just call me Scar? Before I could pick on him for it, out of the corner of my eye I spotted a doctor making his way over to me. Groaning, I realised where I was.

A fucking hospital.

"Hi Scarlett. I’m Doctor Schultz. It’s good to see you’re awake," He smiles. "Your fiancé over there hasn’t left you since you arrived here two days ago."

Alarm bells started ringing in my head. 

I’ve been in hospital, unconscious, for two days and somehow became engaged to James Franco in the process. I’m pretty sure in any state, no matter how messed up I was I’d be pretty sure whether or not I’d agree to marrying him. I shot a glance over at a now very sheepish looking James, who mouthed, “Later” to me before pointing towards the doctor.

"What happened?"

"Well, we can only assume until you’re able to remember. But, from the tests we ran we found traces of alcohol and GHB in your body. Were you out drinking?"

Frowning, I nodded, “Yeah, I was. I hate alcohol though, so I only had about two drinks.”

“That’s all it takes,” Dr Schulz said as he wrote down some notes on his clipboard, “We found a fair amount of concentration of GHB in your system. GHB is a common type of spiking depressant and when mixed with alcohol it can have some devastating side effects. You started having seizures on your way over to the hospital, we were lucky enough to stabilize you. I must say, you’re very lucky your fiancé knew something was wrong with you.”