March 2nd

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March 2nd, 2014.

 

“Hey, Lils.”

“Hey, Taco. Have you been crying again? What’s wrong?”

“Uh… Vic got into a car crash.”

“Oh, my God… Is he okay?”

“He’s sleeping right now. He’s really banged up. Broken leg, sprained wrist, small concussion, and a few cuts and bruises. He was awake earlier; thank God he doesn’t have amnesia. He should be okay.”

“That’s good. Should I send him any–?”

“No! I mean, uh, no. We, um, already have a lot of stuff. He can just talk to you as a gift.”

“That’s not much of a gift.”

“Honestly, it is. Vic’s been bugging me to let me talk to you. I always refuse. I… I don’t want him to take you away like he always does with girls I meet.”

“Hime, he won’t ‘take me away’ from you. You’re my best friend, and nothing can change that, okay? Not him, not Jess, not the rest of the band; nobody. Okay?”

“Yeah, alright…”

“Go rest, Jaime. You sound worn-out. Get some sleep; Vic will be okay.”

“Okay. I love you, Lily. You know that, right?”

“Yes, I know. I love you too. Please, go sleep.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

**

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