Axel
A fter watching Cillian run out of the tour bus after Phoebe, needed to get some air. He also needed to talk to Nick about why he’d asked Cillian to take Phoebe home, even though had told him last night that she’d made it clear she didn’t want to see or talk to her ex.
He headed to Nick’s bus.
“How was your night? Did Phoebe get back to the hotel okay?” Nick asked, cracking open an energy drink and passing it to .
They still had one more night to perform in Munich, so the band were waiting around until sound check. Nick’s bus was packed with snacks, clothes, scented candles and his own pillows from home. Phoebe’s brother never had understood the concept of travelling light. At least they weren’t all cramped together in one bus anymore.
August strummed his guitar in the corner, minding his own business. He looked fresh compared to them; his dark curls were tied back in a messy knot exposing his tattooed ear. He offered a polite nod, never being big on talking or drama. It was ’s favourite thing about him.
“Phoebe passed out before I got back from the signing, so I figured it was best to let her sleep,” said, leaving out how Cillian had accused them of sleeping together. “Cillian picked her up about forty minutes ago to bring her back to the hotel.”
“Are you kidding?” Nick stood up so fast he knocked over his can.
“Why are you so surprised? Cillian said you sent him?”
From Nick’s flaring nostrils, Cillian had lied to them.
“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t have let him anywhere near my sister. I locked him in his dressing room to sober up, but when I let him out this morning, he was still drinking his sorrows. He shouldn’t be anywhere near a car!” Nick chucked his empty can in the sink.
August stopped playing and listened in, his brows pulled tight with concern.
“He stank of drink, but I thought it was because he was wearing the same clothes as last night.”
wished he hadn’t hesitated in going after them, but he’d told himself what happened between them wasn’t his business. Who was he to interfere when her own brother refused to get involved? Still, he never would’ve let Cillian drink and drive.
“There is no way he would put her at risk by driving drunk,” August mumbled, taking a bite of the breakfast burrito that was meant to be Phoebe’s. had brought them the breakfast since he didn’t want it to go to waste, and he didn’t have an appetite after the earlier confrontation.
Nick pressed his phone to his ear. “Phoebe’s phone is going straight to voicemail,” he snapped.
“Let’s not panic. She’s probably back at the hotel and doesn’t want to speak to anyone,” reasoned. “And Cillian is probably pleading outside her room.”
“Neither of them will answer.” Nick dropped his phone on the table. “We should go by her hotel; I know where she’s staying. It’s not far.”
nodded. “I can drive over there and see if everything is okay. They might’ve pulled over somewhere to talk.”
With the mood Nick was in, didn’t want him anywhere near Cillian or the hotel in case he made a scene. The situation was hard enough for Phoebe already, and he didn’t want them to make it worse.
“No, I should go,” Nick argued. “I should’ve stepped in last night. I never thought he’d be stupid enough to get behind the wheel. What the hell was he thinking?”
“No, stay here in case they come back. She’ll need you here. I’ll go to the hotel and call you if I find her. I’m sure they’re fine,” said, forcing himself to remain calm.
Nick’s hard stare told him he wasn’t buying it. “Fine, but I’m going to keep calling.”
“August, can you hold down the fort?” said, not able to meet Nick’s eye. “Make sure Anita doesn’t find out about this. I’ll bring them both back.”
“Great, I love running interference. She’ll probably make me do an interview.” August sighed, but his white-knuckled grip on his guitar revealed his concern. Nick placed a hand on his shoulder as though steadying himself.
left Nick pacing on the phone while August headed off in search of Anita. Back in his own tour bus, he grabbed the keys to his rented car, only to trip over something on his way out.
“You aren’t mine,” he said with a frown, picking up a purple notebook imprinted with butterflies. “Phoebe must’ve left you behind.” He shoved it into the back of his jeans, figuring it was best to bring it with him.
Not wasting another moment, he put the address for the hotel into his phone and drove out of the lot. It wasn’t long before he reached the hotel, and he tried Cillian a few more times as he parked. Still no answer as he walked up the steps to the revolving door. Hopefully Cillian was just ignoring his calls because he was upset about Phoebe staying in his tour bus. But he feared the worst.
Inside the busy hotel lobby, hoped his charm would get him the information he needed. By the marble front desk, he lingered on the edge of the queue, hoping to be spotted. Usually, he never used his fame to get favours, but this was an emergency. Once he saw Phoebe, the elephant sitting on his chest would get off.
One of the younger receptionist’s eyes widened as she spotted him, and she promptly waved him over to another counter. He tried to conceal his relief while ignoring the displeased looks from those waiting ahead of him.
“Thank you for seeing me so quickly.” gave her his best smile.
“It’s my pleasure, what can I do for you?” the receptionist asked, fidgeting with her manicured nails.
“I was wondering if you could give me the room number for a guest, Phoebe Fletcher? She checked in yesterday.” He tapped on the counter impatiently, ignoring the growing whispers behind him. He hoped no one asked him for an autograph or a photo—he didn’t have time, and he didn’t need to feel like a prick on top of everything else.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t give out that information,” the receptionist said quietly.
“I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble, but could I call up to her room? She isn’t answering her phone, and I want to make sure she made it back from the concert okay,” he said, careful not to reveal his frustration.
“I heard it was a great show—my roommates got to go. I had to work, but I guess I got the better deal.” She beamed as she picked up the phone.
He stopped tapping as he waited for Phoebe to pick up. However, the receptionist’s smile faded as she put down the phone.
“I’m sorry sir, but Ms Fletcher isn’t in.” She typed away on her keyboard. “From the details here, I believe the last time her room key was used was last night.”
“Thank you for your help,” he said quickly, about to leave when she called after him. He winced and turned back towards her.
“Could I get an autograph? My roommates won’t believe I’ve met you, and my little brother wants to be a drummer like you when he grows up.” The receptionist smiled nervously, and he didn’t want to disappoint her.
“Sure.” forced a smile, swallowing his fear long enough to scribble his signature on a hotel notepad. She thanked him, but he was already halfway across the lobby.
Walking back to his car, he checked his watch. It’d only taken him twenty minutes to get here. They could’ve gone for breakfast, or somewhere else to talk, he supposed, but Munich wasn’t familiar to either of them. They wouldn’t know where to go, and Cillian wouldn’t go off without some of their security.
was about to pull away from the curb when Phoebe’s name flashed up on his phone in the holder.
“Phoebe! Where the hell are you? Nick has been calling you, and you aren’t at the hotel? Are you and Cillian alright?” he asked frantically, desperate to hear they were okay.
The silence dragged on.
“Phoebe?” he asked again.
“This is Nurse Muller. I’m sorry to call but you were the last missed call on our patient’s phone.” His stomach dropped as he heard the word ‘patient’. “We have a Phoebe Fletcher in the ICU, and we need someone to come and confirm her identity and assist with medical information.”
Intensive care unit? He thought his heart was going to hammer through his chest.
He struggled to find the words. “I’ll be right there, but she was with my friend, Cillian Hunt. They left in a car together. Is he alright?” It felt like he had swallowed sandpaper as he spoke.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any information on the other patient brought in during this time,” the nurse said flatly.
He got the name of the hospital and the ward information before hanging up. His hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel and called Nick. Every part of him dreaded telling his best friend that his sister was in the hospital, and that he had no information about Cillian.
got to the hospital first. They couldn’t tell him anything other than that Cillian’s car had collided with another vehicle. Being stuck in the waiting room with other families until Nick arrived with August and Anita nearly killed him. Every minute felt like a year, and when the doctor in scrubs finally arrived and brought them to Phoebe’s room, the dismayed looks from the nurses as they passed the nursing station gave the overwhelming feeling that it wasn’t good news.
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but Mr Hunt was killed on impact when the other car struck their vehicle. Ms Fletcher was unconscious when she came in and will remain under observation in the ICU for the time being. She has suffered a severe concussion, and her right hand required surgery due to severe lacerations. We expect her to wake up when she is ready. She was very lucky to escape such an accident with her life,” the doctor said, clutching a tablet to her chest.
held on to Nick as they absorbed the news.
Phoebe’s wrist was wrapped, her thumb sutured. ’s heart broke for her. Nick barely managed to get out that she was right-handed and a painter when the doctor talked to them about her surgery. prayed the injury wouldn’t affect her painting. The weight of his guilt forced him to sit down in the armchair by her bed. He didn’t care about the nurses’ stern warnings for him to leave since it was long past visiting hours. had promised Nick not to let Phoebe out of his sight, visiting hours or not.
Outside her room, Nick and August were talking with Anita about cancelling the rest of the tour. wanted to take Phoebe’s hand to let her know he was there, and that she was safe. However, with one hand wrapped post-surgery and the other filled with tubes administering drugs, he could only comfort her by remaining by her side.
“I’ve got your notebook,” told her, gently brushing her lilac hair from her bruised cheek. “You left it behind, but I’ll keep it safe for you until you wake up.”
He pulled out her notebook from his back pocket and flipped through the pages. He’d been expecting to find sketches. Instead, his eyes widened as he found the lyrics to their songs. Songs past and present, and many, in the final pages of the packed notebook, he didn’t recognise.
He stared at her sleeping, bruised body, stunned to have discovered her secret. He ran his fingertips over the handwriting. Some scribbles looked like Cillian’s—had they been working together in secret all along? The realisation that Cillian wouldn’t write or perform with them again took the air from his lungs.
“Does Nick know about your hobby?” asked her, glancing over his shoulder to Nick.
He didn’t know how Nick was holding it together; it couldn’t last long. They were all so focused on making sure that Phoebe was okay, no one had really registered the news about Cillian. Nick hadn’t stepped foot in his sister’s room yet, and Anita had insisted on being the one to identify Cillian. No one argued; they weren’t ready to see their friend in that state.
How was Nick supposed to come to terms with the fact that his lifelong best friend had nearly killed his sister because he was stupid enough to drive drunk? scrubbed his hands over his face, hating that the last words he had spoken to Cillian were in anger. Seeing Phoebe in this state contorted his grief with sadness. He wished he’d stopped them, but there was no changing the past.
“I should’ve made sure Cill was okay this morning. I just lectured him and left,” Nick said, numbly, finally walking through the door.
concealed the notebook behind his back. Now wasn’t the moment for Nick to discover the truth.
“You can’t think like that. He made the choice,” said, letting him sit down beside Phoebe.
“Don’t say it like that.” Nick grimaced. “This wasn’t him.”
couldn’t blame him for his disbelief. They’d grown up together; he never would’ve thought Cillian was capable of this.
“I don’t know what to say,” murmured, as if the weight of words might crush them all.
The steady beat of the heart monitor comforted him; she was still with them. That was all they needed to focus on.
“There’s nothing to say,” August said sadly as he sat on the end of Phoebe’s bed. He stared at her like she’d disappear.
“She’s going to be okay,” told him.
“She’s the best of us.” August placed a gentle hand on her leg covered in the rough hospital sheets.
“I can’t be here,” Nick said suddenly. “I need to call our parents.”
He left like someone had lit a fire under his ass. Nick never handled emotions well—not that anyone could get through this situation unscathed. guessed Phoebe had inherited all the feeling genes.
“I’m going to talk to the nurses,” told August. wanted to see if he could talk or bribe his way into getting a cot for the room so they wouldn’t have to leave her. Focusing on Phoebe cushioned the blow of what they’d lost.
Anita came in as Nick was leaving. Her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying. Not that she’d let them see her cry; it was her job to keep their shit together.
“I’ve cancelled everything,” she said, “and done my best to hold off the vultures, but we’ll have to make a statement soon.”
didn’t want Phoebe hearing this, even if she was unconscious. She needed to recover, not listen to the arrangements being made for her dead fiancé.
He took Anita out into the hall. “Did you manage to get through to Cillian’s mum?”
“She was devastated.” Anita let out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard such noises before. She doesn’t want to fly out, so the body will be flown back once the police have wrapped up their investigation. It’ll take some time, but it’s procedure.”
“Are you sure you want to manage all this? We can get someone else to handle it,” offered, wanting to give her an out. She’d already done a lot for them.
“Life goes on, and I’m in charge of making sure the machine keeps going.” Anita shrugged it off.
“We aren’t a machine. Maybe if we’d realised that sooner we wouldn’t be in this position.” Her eyes narrowed, and he realised how that had sounded. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I just don’t want you to deal with all this, he was your friend too.”
Anita shook her head. “I’ve never treated you like a machine or a product. I think of you as family. None of us could have seen this coming, but it’s my job to make sure the show goes on. I owe it to Cillian to be here for him and all of you, now more than ever. If you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make.”
let her go. With emotions running high, keeping on at her would only lead to arguments that nobody had the strength for. He rounded the corner in search of coffee for the long night ahead. He wanted to be there when Phoebe woke up, and when they told her about Cillian. Following the signs to the canteen, he found Nick with his head pressed against the cream hospital wall.
“You okay?” asked, even if it was a stupid question. “If you’re going to have a meltdown, you’re in the best place.”
When Nick didn’t respond, placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I should’ve protected them,” Nick said.
Nick sank down the hospital wall and placed his head between his knees. sat beside him, trying not to let his own emotions smother him.
He didn’t know how long they sat together in the corridor that smelt like bleach and heat, but he knew they’d lost a brother and would never be whole again.