“Call a medic.”
LL’s words register as I turn back just as his expression blanks, and he falls, face down, landing in a motionless heap at my feet.
“Somebody help!” I scream, the music drowns me out as I dial 911 and turn LL over to see blood pouring out of his nose and mouth. A few of his teeth are broken, probably due to the dead weight of his fall. I’m on the phone with the operator, hysterically relaying our location, when Joel and Dad fly onto the balcony. I put the phone on speaker as Joel checks LL’s breathing, and Dad curses, frantically trying to get him to respond. When the operator prompts us for a possible cause, I look over to Dad.
“Dad, I don’t know what happened. One minute, he was talking his usual shit, the next, he was face down at my feet. I didn’t touch him, I swear.”
“He’s not on anything,” Dad says with a grim shake of his head.
“Well, he’s not unconscious for no fucking reason!” I say in a panic.
“He’s a type 2 diabetic with severe insulin resistance,” Dad imparts to the operator. I gape at my father as he works with Joel to try and revive him. Unsure of how much time passes, I avert my attention to LL’s lifeless body until two paramedics burst onto the balcony.
Sitting at LL’s bedside at the hospital, I stare up at the tiny holes in the ceiling tiles, blindsided by the fact that LL’s selfish decision—a decision he disguised as faith in my talent, mixed with his jealousy—is part of the reason behind everything that’s happened this past year.
Unreal.
If he ever wakes up, I’m going to kill him. At the same time, should I thank him? The odds are unlikely that will happen since the crazy bastard went kamikaze with my life choices to fulfill dreams he couldn’t accomplish on his own.
But if LL hadn’t made that call, Natalie would still have found those emails. Rosie’s story was Natalie’s excuse to come to Seattle—to me. Knowing Natalie, she might have come anyway.
That tip-off was the only decision in LL’s hands. The result after, completely and utterly a result of my own decisions—of Natalie’s decisions.
Is fate real?
The universe starts to feel small as I sort through the domino effect. I wonder if LL even knew his call to the paper in Austin, Texas, held such a history for my mother or if it was a coincidence.
He’s an observant fuck, so chances are, maybe he did his research. Perhaps the reason he placed the call was that he was aware of my mother’s history at the paper. It’s a well-known fact she started her career there.
“What the fuck, man?” I watch LL from the plastic-covered chair at his bedside, the monitors steadily beeping.
Syd and Tack held out for as long as they could, regretting their overindulgence at the party before heading back to the hotel to sleep it off. For some reason when we arrived, I lied to the hospital staff and told them I was LL’s next of kin. Oddly enough, Dad was listed as his emergency contact, so my lie would have been believable enough, though it was clear they knew who we were. Dad and I haven’t had a chance to talk about his huge fucking omission regarding my lead guitarist yet due to his mission to cover us with PR and get the hotel situation under control while the doctors stabilized LL. I cradle my neck, both hangover and fatigue setting in as the question of how long Dad’s known about LL’s condition begins to grate on me. As if sensing my need for answers, Dad appears by my side. Eyes on LL, he breaks the silence first. “You should go back to the hotel. Shower, eat. Get some sleep.”
“Dad, why didn’t you tell me?”
He sighs. “You want to do this now, son?”
“Considering what this bastard confessed, yeah.”
“He didn’t want any special treatment, and he knew his time was limited. That his disease wouldn’t let him play permanently with the band, and I felt for him.”
“Who the fuck is this guy?”
“A kid who grew up dirt poor, neglected by shitty parents, and wandered around totally fucked up until he found a guitar. That’s his summary, and it’s not even the worst of it.”
“What is?”
“Ask him yourself when he wakes up.”
“Dad, we don’t lie to each other. Or at least, I thought we didn’t. Not anymore.”
“I’m sorry, son, I am. This is the only thing I’ve been keeping from you, and it was for selfish reasons. I always knew I’d have to come clean, and this would probably be why. I was hoping you two would bond, so he would tell you himself.” He chuckles dryly. “That didn’t work out.”