Trickles of Crimson

The Aftermath

When I come to it again, my eyes are met with complete darkness. I can't remember falling asleep in a bed, but here I am lying in one. I pat the space next to me, finding that I am alone in the sheets.

I try to sit up slowly, but as I do so a pounding headache erupts in my head, and I groan and clutch my temples. 

So much for moving.

"Hey, are you awake?" a voice asks in the darkness. Liam.

"Uh-huh," I groan as an answer, pulling the blanket over my head when he turns on the lights. Liam moves from wherever he previously was and sits next to me on the bed.

"Niall..." he begins. I can hear the pity dripping in his voice. I hate pity. "We need to talk about what happened in the car yesterday."

Yesterday?

I look up at him with confused eyes. "I wasted half of yesterday just lying here? Why didn't you wake me?"

He sighs. "Niall, you didn't waste the afternoon, not at all. You really needed the rest, considering...you know-...that." He motions to my arm, and I suddenly remember what really happened. 

Oh my god - I passed out in front of all of them!

The same panic that put me in this mess and in this room with Liam washes over me again. 

My breath quickens, and it is noticeable not only because my chest rises and falls at a rapid pace, but also because of the loud wheezing sound that's coming out of my mouth.

They hate me. They think I'm a freak. I'll get kicked out of the band. The fans will find out and think I'm just like every other Hollywood-fuckup. The management will send me away. Everyone will despise m-

"Niall. Niall..? Niall!" interrupts my brain cycling. My head snaps up to my worried best friend just as he reaches out and wipes tears from my cheeks that I didn't know were there until now. 

"Hey, listen to me. Steady, okay? Copy me." He takes a few slow breaths, and he doesn't stop until I'm doing it exactly like him and he can tell that my fears have crept back into the corners of my mind - where they're supposed to be.

He gives my hand a light squeeze, almost as if I'm made of glass and could break at any moment. "Please..." he whispers. "Talk to us. Talk to me. We're all really worried about you, Niall. What we saw in the car...that's really serious. And none of us could stand the thought of losing you."

He scoots closer to me, asking, "Can I..?" I nod, and seconds later, the sleeve of my hoodie is pulled up to my elbow - exposing some of my dirty work.

I instinctively try to hide my arm from his chocolate eyes, but he grasps it lightly, making sure that I understand that it won't work like that with him anymore. "No, Ni. Hiding them won't do you any good, now will it?"