Bed Sheets II

73. Breaking News

"Breaking News: Author of several worldwide famous novels, Draven H. Malcom, was shot at one of his press conferences in Los Angeles. The entire scene was recorded by one of the reporters. Kyle Merchi, movie designer, suspect of the shooting, was detained shortly after the shot hit Malcom."

"Malcom was transported to Meridem Hospital, and we have recently received the news that Malcom's condition was stabilized. It was said that he was shot in the upper right shoulder, destroying the head of the humerus and part of his scapula. He suffers from nerve damage in his right arm, and is paralyzed from the shoulder to his fingers. With the injuries he faced, Draven H. Malcom, famous comic novel artist and author, was said to most likely never be able to draw or write again—"

"How do they have that much information already?" Eric hissed at the screen, instantly reaching the remote from Draven's palm and changing the channel. "It's only been like two days since the incident and they have your entire medical report."

Draven, chewing on his burger, muffled, "It's not a secret." Eric handed him the cup of water he had requested, and Draven thanked him. "They probably tricked Hector into giving information."

"He was out there quite a while, when I think about it," Sophie mumbled from the corner of the room, glancing upwards from her phone for a moment, "I should have followed him out there."

"All our faults for thinking he would keep his mouth shut—"

"Hey guys," Hector interrupted Jason as he entered the room, "I had to check-in with the Chancellor early this morning."

"And you had to stop by journalists and tell them our business on the way?" Miranda spat angrily, rolling her eyes. She was seated on a visitor's chair beside Rebecca, who patted her back in attempts to calm her.

"Stop whining guys," Draven groaned, glaring at each of them, "I literally almost lost my life and I'm supposed to listen to your complaints about Hector?"

"Thank you for defending me, Draven," Hector sent a smug smile to Miranda who scoffed and turned elsewhere.

Sophie stood for her feet. "Have you heard anything about Merchi?" she asked Hector.

He nodded his head, "I was walking by random reporters and they said he's still detained."

Draven's eyes instantly narrowed, "That bastard is lucky he had a gun, or else I would have knocked him onto his ass."

"I don't like that you're joking about what happened, Draven," Eric folded his arms. He paused for a moment before leaning towards him and whispering, "You basically lost an arm."

"Physical therapy will get my nerves up and running again—"

"Dr. Bellini said there's a 13% chance you'll even be able to move a finger again," he leaned onto Draven's hospital bed railings, "take it a bit more seriously."

"Relax Eric," Draven muffled as he chewed a larger piece of his burger, "stop being Debby downer and have a bit of hope in me, will you?"

Eric sighed; he knew that not being able to write or draw again would hit Draven's emotions sooner or later. However, there was no point in arguing with him, and instead he leaned forward, placing a peck on Draven's cheek, "You're absolutely right."

"Ew," Sophie complained, "That'll make me puke."

Jason tilted his head, "Seeing you two being lovebirds kinda gives me hope that I won't get cheated on next time—"

"Let's not talk about you two again," Miranda exhaled a long breath, scratching the side of her forehead, "we really don't need to hear about it once more."

Rebecca shrugged her shoulders, "I apologized a thousand times; I really don't want to fight any more—"

"Still cheated on me after saying you loved me," Jason snorted, "so keep your worthless apologies to yourself."

"Can you all focus on me now?" Draven laughed, "I rather you all do that than fight about insignificant things."

Jason's mouth widened in shock before he shouted, "It was significant to me!"

"We're being way too loud," Eric hissed, "he literally got out of surgery a day ago. Let him rest, come on."

"I don't want to rest yet—"

"You should shut your eyes for a bit, Draven. We've been disturbing you since the press conference; the only wink of sleep you got was from the anesthesia they gave you." Eric grabbed the burger from his hand and wrapped it, placing it on the bedside table. "We'll go grab something to eat; call me when you wake up."

Draven frowned, "You're all leaving me by myself?"

"Well," Sophie tilted her head, examining the wrinkles that instantly formed on his forehead, "you do need to rest, Draven. There's no way you'll sleep soundly with all of us here."

"I will—"

"No, you won't," Eric argued, reaching towards the door and waving everyone to leave, "we'll be back anyway. The Chancellor might visit you as well and it's best if we're not there for that."

"Can you at least stay?" Draven raised his eyebrows, simultaneously waving his hand at the others leaving, "I don't want to be alone, this place is depressing Eric."

Eric sighed, glanced out in the hallway and said to them, "Guys, he asked me to stay—"

"That was your trick to kick us out, huh Valence?" Sophie spat, furrowing her brows.

To which he rapidly shook his head, "No, he literally just—"

"She's just teasing you, give us a call and we'll be back in no time," Hector laughed, waving his hand before pushing everyone forward to walk.

Sophie raised an eyebrow towards Hector, "I wasn't teasing him."

"I know you weren't Sophie, but you need to give them a bit of a break—he just lost his arm. Draven will never be able to draw again, do you realize what that means?"

"He'll have to hire someone to draw for him, but he most likely won't feel like it's his own work anymore," Miranda sighed as they entered the elevator.

Jason nodded his head sadly, "And he'll have to speak which then the employee will have to write the story like that. It's different when you write the story yourself with all the vivid images in your mind, instead of having to tell it to someone."

"He's for-sure going to be depressed," Rebecca murmured, leaning against the wall, "which is sad because he's not seeing it now."

"We really need to be there for him," Miranda added.

"Well," Sophie shrugged her shoulders as they stepped out of the hallway, "What if he's right? What if his nerves are up and running again?"

"That would take years, which we'd all probably be dead by the time that happens," Jason snorted, shaking his head.

Hector nodded his head, "And even if such miracle would happen, there would probably be some side effects from the wound. Can't hold his arm up long enough, or tremors in his hand—it'll never be the same again."

"So is this really the end of Draven H. Malcom?" Sophie gasped, eyeing all of them.

They all seemed uneasy, and Hector was the one to respond, "Not really; he technically can still deliver new comic novels if he hires someone to help him. But you know Draven, it'll take forever to convince him of just that."

"It's not the end of him though," Miranda smiled, "he has us."

"I hope that'll be enough for him," Hector commented.