Beautiful People

Chapter 3

I stride the hallway and nod to every person who looks at me, silently appealing to the dieties to make this day come out as I wanted it. This is a huge building so it took me some time to arrive at the elevator. I go in alone since it's still early and everyone is going gaga over the band playing at the school ground. I press the button for the sixth floor.

Go right then take the first left. I remember Sabrina's instruction during Freshman year when I was late for meeting one of my favorite bands. It is the Favian Hall that I'm heading to. It's been a long time since I last visited this hall, really. It was for a pre-Christmas break presentation from the Seniors and it was the lamest thing ever. I open the door and it the hall was exactly the same way I last saw it. Except for one thing, though. At the center of this auditorium are band equipments, water bottles and some pieces of paper scattered.

I choose to sit infront and scroll through my phone again to pass time. I was tempted to FaceTime Euan but I can't. I am scared. I am dying to talk to my brother but it's hopeless. I don't know how he'll talk to me or how he'll react if he sees my name on his phone screen. We weren't like this.

It was a week after his high school graduation when the accident happened. I woke up in a white room full of lights, my body was numb but my head hurt like hell. I heard someone opened the door and it was Euan whose face was all red and his hair was messy. I wanted to ask him what's wrong but the only thing I could do was to watch him as a great sob escaped and his tears burst like that of water from a dam. He was kneeling beside my bed, his hands were gripping tight the bed rail. He was bowing his head and his whole body was shaking. I started crying too, because of the pain I'm feeling and because I hated to see him so devastated and vulnerable. I watched him painfully as his sobs subside. If only I could just take his pain away. It took all my strength to just put my hand above his. He started wiping his cheeks and leaned over me. He placed his hand on top of my head and the other held on to my hand. He had the most sympathetic eyes. He stayed like that for a moment while observing my condition. "She...," he started. His voice barely made a sound. "She's in a c-coma," he stated and tears began to flood his cheeks again. It was agonizing on his part to see his sister lying on a hospital bed and have his girlfriend comatosed. But he tried to conceal everything he felt and wanted to be the brave brother as he was supposed to. He composed himself and started stroking my hair. "Don't worry," he said. He was smiling but tears continued falling from his eyes. "Everything will be fine, Pax. I got you." And that was when I started condemning myself.

I wipe my cheeks as I hear the door opening. The voices and the footsteps are now louder as they entered the auditorium. They are talking about their setlist and are fully confident that there was no intruder inside, but here I am. Then, they proceed to their equipments and start cleaning the mess. Finally, the blondie notices me and stops talking, the ambiance suddenly starts to shift. "Uhm..." she says, alerting her companions.

"What are you..." her voice trails off as she makes a what-are-you-doing-here gesture with her arms. I give her a mocking smile. She's the goody two shoes of the group, Eleonor Renshaw.

"You are in my school," I say in a condescending voice.

"Well," says the guy on white shirt. "You have no business here. So leave." It was the guitarist and the high-tempered one I believe, Micro Russell.

I glare at him. "You don't have an inch of right to tell that to my face, Russell."

The bassist lets out a laugh. "Oops," he starts. "A hot-blooded girl we have here," he says while putting his bass back to the case. He is Rocco Evandro.

I do not waste time talking to people of no use. It is the band's vocalist, Chase Ravenstine, whom I have been waiting to speak.

"What's your reason?" Rocco asks, finally looking at me. "Perhaps you want to take a picture, beaut?"