Chapter 7 #2
Mia's crooked smile disappears all at once and she sits back.
She feels suddenly embarrassed, and she'll admit — a little stung.
She's not used to being turned down, and it lands harder than she expected.
But she knows how to respect a boundary.
She's tried more than once now, and Erin hasn't just failed to respond — she's made it very clear, and fairly gently, that Mia shouldn't push any further.
"I'm sorry if I made things weird or made you uncomfortable," she says.
This is, without a doubt, the first time Mia surprises her — because when Erin looks at her, the girl seems to mean it.
There's no trace of the smug smile or the penetrating stare; if anything, there's a slight flush across her cheeks, and for a moment Erin wonders if she came down too hard on her.
But she's sure it's the right call. If she doesn't draw the line now, things could get uncomfortable fast, and she needs to stay focused on managing the singer's condition — not let her mind drift toward wondering what it would be like to kiss her.
"It's fine, Wilder. You didn't bother me. But it's better to be upfront from the start, don't you think?"
Mia nods, and Erin watches her swallow.
"Yeah, of course. No problem. What did you want to know?"
"I'll walk you through the plan I have in mind, and then you can tell me if we need to adjust anything."
Mia needs a lot of adjusting — just not that kind. But she's not going to say that now, because her options are crystal clear.
"I'm all yours."
Erin glances up from her notepad for just a second, then looks back down, feeling Mia's blue eyes burning into her skin like there's actual heat behind them — even though the singer has switched the flirting off completely.
"Three meals a day. Breakfast before ten in the morning when possible, lunch between one and three, and dinner at least three hours before you go to sleep."
"What if I don't go to sleep?" Mia asks.
"You will," Erin says — and Mia feels a jolt of electricity run up the inside of her thighs that she has absolutely no control over. "I don't care what you eat as long as it's real food and not junk from a vending machine," the doctor continues.
"What if I don't like it and throw it all up?"
Now it's Erin who leans forward slightly. She's not sure if Mia is being serious or if this kind of provocation is just her way of deflecting after what happened a minute ago.
"If you're throwing up, you tell me — and I'll run so many labs on you that you'll never want to do it again."
Mia presses her lips together until they go white with frustration.
"Hydration — this is critical," the doctor goes on.
"Ideally two and a half liters a day given your activity level, and I mean water specifically; other drinks don't count as a substitute.
I'll make sure you have bottles everywhere, every day — your room, your dressing room, the bus, anywhere you spend time. You need to be drinking."
"Okay," Mia agrees, pretty confident she can manage that. "What else?"
"Sleep. You should be getting at least seven hours on non-show days — eight if possible. On performance days, six at minimum."
"I usually spend the nights after a show having sex. I can't promise more than two hours."
Mia didn't say it to provoke her — she said it because it's true and because she doesn't always have a filter. She knows it probably wasn't the most graceful way to put it. She opens her mouth to walk it back, but Erin gets there first, gray eyes steady on hers.
"I have no issue with you having sex. You can do both: have sex first, sleep after," the doctor says, and that's that.
Mia pulls her hair loose and smooths it back because she's nervous and doesn't know what to do with her hands.
She knows she has no shot with the doctor, but she can't help the way this woman gets under her skin whenever she talks — enough that Mia can't hold back most of what comes out of her mouth.
"I'll take your blood pressure and pulse at least twice a day, more if I think it's necessary. And ideally, I'd prefer you didn't argue about it."
"No problem."
Mia shrinks slightly in her seat — barely perceptibly, but Erin notices and figures the singer probably connects having her vitals taken to the moment she collapsed.
It seems to frighten her. She considers bringing it up and talking it through to put her at ease, but decides she'll do that once they've had more time to build some trust.
"And most importantly," the doctor goes on, "if you have any symptom at all, you tell me right away. Any hint of dizziness, blurred or tunnel vision, cold sweat, nausea, ringing in your ears — whatever you notice, you let me know immediately."
"What about at night? If I get up to use the bathroom and feel off?
" It's not a provocation. Mia is asking in complete earnest, because this genuinely worries her.
She's terrified now every time she feels anything strange in her body — even a sudden chill makes her freeze for a few seconds until she realizes she's fine.
"I'm here for you, Wilder — so yes, that includes the middle of the night.
You shouldn't feel afraid or embarrassed to reach out to me.
Writing off a symptom because you think it's nothing or that it'll pass on its own can end in a real disaster.
If I'm not close by, send someone to find me — but don't keep anything like that to yourself. "
"I won't," the singer says, and she goes quiet, staring at the cover of the book she was reading, wondering if the doctor started calling her by her last name instead of her first name as a way of reinforcing the distance she wants between them.
The flight attendant comes by to offer them drinks, and both of them decline.
"Have you had any water this morning?" Erin asks.
"Can we start the rules when we land?" Mia says. "I don't like using the bathroom on planes. It's a space thing."
Erin doesn't push it. She doesn't want to overwhelm her all at once — it's important that Mia adjusts to her condition gradually, and right now she's pretty sure the singer still hasn't fully accepted it, no matter how tough she tries to act.
"Dooley," Mia says after a while, when Erin has decided that's enough for now and is looking out the window.
"Yeah."
"You're going to be a real pain in my ass, aren't you? I mean, basically you're going to be everywhere."
"I'll be where I need to be. I'm not going to sleep with you, if that's what you're worried about."
Mia tries, but her crooked smile is impossible to stop this time — and Erin curses herself for picking that particular example. But the singer catches herself and bites back whatever she was about to say.