You're a Masterpiece (BOOK 1)

Chapter 16

Shay

Shay?
What's going on?
Hey?

Doza
My heart hurs so muchhg
Helppas
Dozaa

This one fucking time—one of the few times Art wished their intuition was wrong—and it couldn't be.

Art struggled to swallow through the lump in their throat. Through the panic in their chest. Through the sickening, sinking, realization that they were right. Fuck. Fuck. Come on—

I'm here
Talk to me
Why weren't you online the whole day?

Doza I cant breathehh
Doza
Help
Dozoa

Shay
Do you need me to fetch you?
What's wrong

Doza it hsurtrs
Everything hurts
Doza
Help me
DOzoaoa

I know
Talk to me

Art didn't really think twice.

They video called Shade.

It might have been stupid. It have been dangerous. But he had his own room, right? And Shade had Airpods. He didn't even need to talk. He could just listen to them. He could just type out and tell them what was wrong, Art would listen, Art cared, Art was worried the entire fucking day, and—

He picked up.

Art could barely see him. It was dark in his room. From what they could tell he was hidden under the covers like a child. The only light source was his phone, not a lamp on or even creeping moonlight.

He was crying. And shaking. And hyperventilating the same way he did during retreat but this time much stronger—

"Shhhh, Shay," Art found themself whispering. Their own hands began to tremble. They swallowed that hesitation away, held it down, Shay first.

"Doza," he struggled to say, taking big, gulping gasps of air. Cracked at the corners, shattered at the edges, torn apart in too many pieces to count—

"Shay," they soothed. "You don't have to speak."

Shay shook his head desperately. "Doza," he cried, a hand creeping to clutch at his chest. He inhaled deeply, unsteadily; his entire body racked with pain. "Doza—"

"Breathe with me," they said, trying not to show how panicked they really were. "Shay. You have to breathe."

"I can't—"

"Yes, you can. I know you can."

"Doza—"

"Breathe in." Was he hurt? How badly hurt? Physically? Emotionally? What the fuck was going on? "Breathe out."

Shay shook his head.

"Again," Art murmured. Their heart was cracking every time they heard him sniffle, every time they heard the way he held back a sob, and every time they heard the sound make its way past his lips—

"Breathe in," they encouraged. "Breathe out."

Shay shook his head again. Stubbornly. Pained.

"Come on, Shay," Art said. Keep in control. Help him. Come on, Art. "You can do it, right? You can breathe."

Shay shook and trembled.

But...

Art saw his chest expand and his shoulders rise as steadily as they could despite his nerve-wracking shuddering. Art exhaled a sigh of relief as Shade struggled—but tried, most importantly—to take down one breath at a time.