A New Song [mxm]

2. Rock Bottom

Preston felt a throbbing pain in his head and suddenly felt relief.  Perhaps it was all a nightmare.  Perhaps Remy was there and wasn't in bed with Charles.  Maybe Remy didn't do something that made him lose control, and Remy didn't cut his wrists. 

Behind the horrible pain in his head, he could hear the beeping of a heart monitor and the TV that was on low in his room.  He knew he was in the hospital but was too frightened to open his eyes.  His hands were heavy, but he could move them slightly so he could touch his wrist. 

His body instantly relaxed when he felt his wrists were smooth and free from cuts. He sighed deeply, but then he focused on the TV droning in the background.

"The world is stunned today after confirming that the great Preston Green has passed away.  The cause of death is unknown at this time.  Just hours ago, Preston Green was performing at his most anticipated concert of the year and left unceremoniously early without his normal encores..."

Preston's eyes snapped open, and he sat up, only to feel a sharp pain in his stomach and head.  He groaned and faltered.  As a singer, he was intimately familiar with his own voice.  And even with a broken groan, he knew that he didn't recognize the voice.

A woman ran to him with a nurse's uniform and red eyes.  "Mr. Lee!  You're awake!"

She went to help him and check his vitals, but she kept sniffling, her tears slipping down her face.  Preston turned to the window to give her some privacy but then saw his reflection. He found an unknown face staring back at him. The person in the reflection was Asian, young and beautiful.  His black hair was thick but a little too long.  His eyes were kind and sincere, framed delicately by his monolids.  A well-proportioned nose met with full lips.  His face was smooth and pale, only marred by an unhealthy thinness and heavy shadows under his eyes. 

His shoulders were broad, but lacked muscle because he seemed to be malnourished and in desperate need of more exercise.  He felt a weakness from his seemingly frail body hidden beneath his hospital gown. He didn't know how to react to seeing the face in the window.  Who was he?  What happened?

"Who... am I?" He asked with a raspy voice.

The nurse sighed a little. "I fear you may have some memory loss. You hit your head extremely hard when you fell. But according to the license we found in your pocket, you are Alexander Lee."

Who the hell was Alexander Lee? He wanted to ask her a number of questions, but they were caught in his throat. What could he ask without sounding like a raving lunatic? 

Did he, Preston Green, really die? Is he hallucinating? He couldn't formulate a true question, and his broken voice only allowed him to ask, "Dead?"

His eyes turned towards the TV to make sure she understood.  A small sob broke from her lips, and she nodded.  "They just confirmed that Preston Green died.  I can't believe it."  And she started crying again. 

Preston didn't go out much the last several years, but when he did, he was always gentle with his fans. So watching his fans hurt and grieve was hard for him to see.  His fans helped encourage him through the times he was growing as a musician and solidifying his fame. They would cheer and support him, but now they were mourning.  He lifted his hands and rubbed her arm to calm her.  She staggered a little, and he helped her sit on the edge of the bed.  While seated, he pulled her into a careful embrace.  She froze for a moment but then wrapped her arms around him and cried heavily. 

He patted her back softly and let her grieve.  He also felt a sour feeling in his nose and wetness in his eyes.  He wasn't mourning his death but the circumstance.  If this wasn't a dream, that meant that he died miserably at the hands of his lover, someone he had devoted his life to.  And now, no one will know how he died.  They will probably rule it as a suicide because of the cuts on his wrists. Remy won a battle Preston didn't even know they were fighting.