Everywhere: Book 3 of the Nowhere Trilogy

37. Hold On

So hold on to me tight; Hold on to me tonight

We are stronger here together; Than we could ever be alone

So hold on to me; Don't you ever let me go - Michael Bublé

10:04 PM, Tuesday, February 1, 2022

"Harry?" Chele shakes his shoulder. "HARRY!" He doesn't open his eyes, and Chele recalls her first aid training. She checks his airway; he is breathing, although shallowly. Tilting his head back to further clear the path to his lungs, she grasps his wrist, feeling for a pulse.

"Thank Jeffrey," she mutters. Jeffrey! Rummaging through her bag, she pulls out her phone. With trembling fingers, she searches for the manager's name in her contacts. Her fumbling digits type an L instead of a J, and she accidentally dials Liz. Quickly canceling the call, she returns to typing in the name she needs, but before she finishes, her phone rings with Liz's smiling face on the screen.

"Fuck. Not now, Liz," she snarls, clicking the Decline button as fast as she can. Finally, her shaking hands manage to push Jeffrey's name, and she paces while it rings. Once. Twice.

"What's wrong?" Business voice immediately.

"He...he passed out," Chele forces the words out. "Won't wake up. Still breathing. Still has a pulse. No drug or alcohol use. Nothing that would cause this. Do I call an ambulance? Take him to the hospital?"

"No. I'll be right there. Give me ten."

With the phone call made, Chele breathes a little easier. "Help is on the way, Harry. You're going to be okay."

She paces a bit, then fills a glass with water and gently sets it on the bedside table. Every few seconds she checks his breathing and his pulse. His body hasn't moved; his head positioned exactly as she placed it. Grabbing one of Harry's hoodies, she draws it over her camisole. Finding some sweatpants, she yanks those over her legs too.

As the pounding starts on the front door, Harry begins to stir. Torn, Chele doesn't know what to do first. Answer the door or tend to Harry? When Jeffrey's voice accompanies the next knock, she runs to the living room, throwing open the door before racing to the bedroom.

"He's waking up!" she calls over her shoulder, not even bothering to look at the manager, trusting that he's behind her.

==========

10:18 PM, Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Wow. That was the weirdest feeling. Harry scratches his head as he sits up in the bed. His eyes focus on Chele's face, her eyes wide and her breathing labored.

"You okay, baby?" he asks gently.

"ME?" she screeches, and Harry shifts his attention to the figure looming behind her.

"Jeffrey?" Harry wonders. Noticing his mouth is dry, Harry reaches for the cup of water conveniently next to him.

His manager approaches, carefully observing Harry as though he's grown a third arm. "Hey, Chele," Jeffrey inquires, "Would you be so kind as to get me a glass of water too?"

Eyes darting between the two of them, hands on her hips, Chele abruptly nods and leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

"You haven't had a panic attack in a long time, H," Jeffrey states, sitting on the edge of the bed as Harry curls his legs under himself into a seated position.

Facing his manager, Harry dips his head as his eyes lower. "Is that what happened? Shit. Is Chele okay? She must have been freaking out. How long was I out?"