Chapter 2: Remember Me

“Now you’re going to take two pills every day,” my doctor commanded as I sat with my legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

“She will, Doc,” Neill nodded and I gave him a look.

“What are the side effects?” I questioned.

“Nausea, increased appetite and weight gain, loss of sexual desire and other sexual problems, fatigue and drowsiness, insomnia, dry mouth, blurred vision and constipation,” the doctor listed off and I burst out laughing.

 

“I didn’t have those problems now when I am depressed, are you kidding me?” I shook my head.

“The problem, sir is that she’ll be on the road with four guys and the loss of desire would be a real buzz kill,” Neill teased.

“You’re my brother; you aren’t allowed to say that out loud,” I rolled my eyes.

“Half-brother,” he sang.

 

“Well,” Dr. Singer cleared his throat, “I can assure you that you’ll be better off taking the medication and it is the only way we can allow you to leave this hospital at this time.”

“Fine,” I took the two blue and orange capsules with a half a glass of water.

“I wouldn’t let you leave at all, but unfortunately there was a riot at last night’s hockey game and we need all of the beds we can find,” he sighed signing my release papers, “I hope I am doing the right thing putting your sister in your car, Mr. Foster.”

“She’ll be fine; we have a band mate and roadie who both took the first aid course,” Neill smiled.

 

“Which guy would that be?” I asked. Neill ran a hand through his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose before he spoke.

“Deke,” he squinted at me.

“Nice try, liar,” I got to my feet, “Doc, I’ll take the medication three times a day, eat the recommended food list and change my bandages twice a day.”

“Very good,” he handed me my papers, “I hope you slept decently with the morphine last night; I am sending some insomnia medication with you too.”

“I read to her until she passed out, Doc,” Neill smiled at me. He read me Harry Potter and the Philosopher Stone last night and did all the voices. Neill was an expert at calming me down.

“Have a great day,” Dr. Singer handed me my daily checklist; “Your father is picking up your medications.”

“Thanks,” I gave him a small smile then we left the room, “So Mika took a first aid course, his dad always wanted him to be a surgeon.”

 

“You see right through me; too bad you never see yourself clearly,” he snorted, “Have you got your notebook?”

“And my erasable pen,” I nodded, “We’ll have to go to my dorm room before we leave.”

“Our roadie girl, Cassia got all of your stuff,” he explained, “It was mostly in your suitcase anyways; have you ever heard of unpacking?”

“I hated that room,” I shuddered.

“Hey, if you need it take your medication,” he warned me.

“I don’t need constipation just yet,” I drank some of my water bottle then my father came out of the elevator on his phone.

 

“Emmeline,” he came over and handed me my medications, “I got enough for three months, understood.”

“Yep,” Neill said taking them.

“Don’t even think of overdosing,” Cliff warned me then gave me a swift kiss on the forehead, “I have to go back to work; Neill, you better take good care of her.”

“Yes, sir,” Neill saluted then I shook hands with dad before going to the front counter.

“I have my release papers,” I handed the attending nurse the clipboard.

“Okay,” she looked over the papers, “You’re free to go, Miss. Foster.” I ran a hand through my dyed blonde hair and gave her a small smile before I heard a loud hoot come from the direction of the elevator.

 

“Emmy,” a familiar voice said and I saw the band and two others with them. I recognized the caller right away.

“Deke,” I ran over and jumped into his arms, “I had no idea you were still a roadie; I thought you were going to Juilliard.”

“Postponed my acceptance,” he held me at arm’s length, “You look amazing for a suicidal maniac, Emmy.”

“Gee thanks,” I grinned.

 

“Emmy,” Jed, the bass guitarist picked me up and spun me around, “You weigh less than last time, shorty.”

“I was out cold for two days; I’ll bulk up again on the trip,” I smacked his shoulder.

 

“Kyle, stop gaping,” Max, the back-up vocals gave me a high five, “You got taller somehow, freak.”

“I apologize for the growth spurt,” I noticed I was like a foot taller than him. All of the guys were different heights, builds and had different eyes and hair. Max was short with a mop of brown hair and gray eyes with a muscular build. Jed was the tallest and lanky with black hair and strange violet eyes. Kyle was 5’6 like me and had no muscle, which combined with the bulky glasses that covered his dark blue eyes. Neill had curly dark red hair and a medium build with a killer smile that lit up his green eyes. Green eyes were the only clue that Neill and I were related. Mika was almost the same build as Neill, but he worked out more. He was tanned with pale blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes in the world. Those eyes were staring me down as I pecked Kyle’s cheek.

 

“Hey, I’m Cassia,” the girl with them shook my hand, “Kyle’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, congratulations,” I punched Kyle’s shoulder, “I really appreciate you getting my stuff.”

“I love snooping through people’s stuff; it was great,” Cassia laughed and I chuckled a little myself, “The guys never did you justice; you’re gorgeous.”

“Not my type,” Deke snorted and I gave him a look. He shook his head and I frowned. I’d have thought he’d have told the guys by now that he was into guys, but I didn’t say anything out loud.

 

“Are you avoiding me?” Mika raised an eyebrow.

“Not at all,” I lied extending my hand to him, “It’s nice to see you again, Michael.” His smirk turned sour at the use of his full name.

“You as well, Emmeline,” he countered shaking my hand.

“Are we going to have this the whole trip?” Cassia whispered to Kyle, “What is up?”

“They used to date; it didn’t end well,” Kyle whispered back.

“That’s an understatement,” I snorted.

“Em,” Neill started.

“I’m done; I just want to get out of this building and never come back,” I opened the stairs door, “Everyone is coming down the stairs.”

 

“But the elevator…” Kyle started.

“Emmeline is claustrophobic,” Mika walked past me, “You dyed your hair, Foster it looks good.”

“You’re blushing,” Neill said when he passed me and I tripped him, “Behave, sis.”

“Fine,” I headed down the stairs. When I moved my fingers, I noticed the stinging pain that the morphine had made less noticeable, but now it was easier to feel.

 

“How are you feeling?” Cassia asked me as we headed down the stairs, “Do you want to pause? I know the morphine always made me a little dizzy.”

“I’m alright, thanks,” I assured her then we reached the main floor, “The third floor window was more likely to make me dizzy, but I survived.”

“Good,” she said, “You have your license so later in the tour, you might be doing some driving, but for now you’re the trunk with Mika.”

“Why?” I asked alarmed.

“He aced his first aid course and I am squeamish around blood,” she said quietly, “Sorry, I didn’t know about your history; try not to have hate sex in the back okay.”

 

“Michael doesn’t date band relatives; he’s very attached to his rules,” I said loud enough he could hear us.

“I told you she was bitter,” Mika told Neill then looked back at me, “I don’t need a lecture, Emmeline save that for your recent boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends plural,” Kyle laughed, “S**t.”

“Don’t listen to him; he’s been experimenting with alcoholism lately,” Cassia kicked him, “Him and Jed.”

“It makes me happy,” Jed grinned.

“Glad you’re happy,” I rolled my eyes, “Don’t drink it in the van or I’ll throw it out the window.”

“We missed you, kid,” Max opened the main door for me.

“Such a gentleman,” I said and then I saw my old school as we stepped outside. The school was just down the street from the hospital. My fists clenched then I felt something dripping down my palms. I knew it was blood; I must be straining my stitches. I recognized the van as soon as I saw it. It was bright red and had leather exterior. The guys had saved up for years to buy the band equipment, instruments and their ride. My dad hated that Neill could support himself and hadn’t touched his trust fund.

 

I climbed into the back and strapped myself in. I rested my head back against my suitcase while Mika climbed in. The sound system and drums was in Deke’s car behind us and the guitars were with Kyle and Jed. The trunk closed and the guys started gossiping up in the front about other bands and possible music festivals they wanted to sign up for in Washington while we were here.

“Are you trying to go back to the hospital?” Mika said as Cassia started the van’s engine.

“What?” I said then remembered my wet palm, “Oh.”

“I am changing the bandaging,” he started to unwrap the white fibre as we drove out of the parking lot.

“You might not like it,” I warned him then he saw the wound. His eyes narrowed then he looked up at my face.

“Mika said it was a knife, Em,” he looked at it again.

“I locked my knife away so I wasn’t tempted,” I whispered.

 

“What did you use?” he said and I remembered when it happened. I’d just had a really bad day and my scissors cut my finger. One of my classmates suggested I was a waste of a life in God’s eyes and I wanted to get away from it all.

“Scissors,” I muttered and he started to clean around my wound.

“You were hurting this much,” he sounded almost pained as he spoke.

“Why do you care?” I muttered and he sighed.

“Just because you’re not my girlfriend doesn’t mean I don’t care.” I frowned.

Author's Note

what do you think of the Mika/Em relationship?