Car Crash {Post Malone}

One (AP)

"Austin, you need to come home."

"I'm a little busy, mom, can this wait?"

"Austin."

"I'm in the middle of making a record, what's so important?"

"There was a car crash."

The crash made the nightly news around the state - a three car collision left two in the hospital, one with minor injuries and the other with more serious issues.

I had googled what had happened after I got off the phone with my mother, she hadn't given specific details and I could feel anxiety crawling through my veins as my foot tapped relentlessly on the floor of the recording studio.

Two injured.

Drunk driver.

No released names.

I couldn't get those words out of my head. They were playing on repeat like some kind of sick joke.

Closing the news article, I pulled up flights back home and picked the soonest one, not worrying about the price or what would happen when I got there.

"Austin," Dre asked as I stormed out of the recording booth, "where are you going?"

"Texas," I responded.

I could feel the shock of my announcement go through the room.

"You need to go home now," Dre asked, "in the middle of this?"

I nodded, "Something came up."

"You're Post Malone, you can't just get up and leave without an explanation."

I had my hand on the doo and turned around, "Actually, that's why I can. Promise I'll work on the songs when I'm gone."

With that, I was out of the door and on the phone with my driver who had been on his way to pick up food.

A few long, antagonizing minutes later, the driver was in front of me and we were on the way to the airport.

Fear was running through me like I had never felt before. I didn't know any details of what I would be walking into and that scared me.

All I knew is it wasn't mom who was hurt but it had to be someone close to me for her to call.

My mind was occupied the entire flight and all I could do was tap my fingers against the arm rests and count the minutes until we landed.

I couldn't process if people were asking for pictures or if there were paparazzi. All I could focus on was the thought that someone I knew was in the hospital. 

 I climbed in a cab and told the driver the name of the hospital. I sat back as we drove down the highway with some song playing softly through the stereo. 

I saw the hospital come into view and I grabbed my wallet out and threw bills on to the arm rest in the front and climbed out the second the car had stopped. 

I walked into the front of the trauma center and found the front desk. 

Working at the desk was a brunette woman with bags underneath her eyes and a coffee next to the keyboard. 

I stepped up to the computer and rested my arms on the counter. 

"How many I help you," she asked. 

I sighed, "My name's Austin Post, my mom called me about a car crash." 

The woman nodded, "Right, Rich Post is in room 204."

The breath in my chest stopped, "How bad is it? Mom didn't say."

The woman smiled, "Not bad, he's been stable since he arrived."

I smiled, "Thank you." 

With more confidence, I walked down the hall and found the room. 

204.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door. 

The room was a light brown color and there was a large window that lit up the room. 

"Austin," the familiar voice of my father said. 

I smiled, he was sitting on the bed with a cast on his leg and a few cuts on his face. 

"You're okay," I said, relieved.

He laughed, "Yeah, I was the second car hit. My airbag didn't even go off." 

"I was worried," I admitted.

He laughed quietly, "No need to worry about your old man. Now, tell me how's the new album coming?" 

I smiled and rubbed the back of my neck, "I have a few songs but I ran out of the studio to be here." 

He sighed, "Really? Are you going to get in trouble?"

"I mean there's not much Dre can do," I said, "I'm kinda the boss." 

Dad laughed and I smiled.

"Austin," another voice said and I turned around to see my mom standing in the doorway. 

I smiled, "Hey Ma." 

"You got here really quickly," she said and I nodded.

"I got on the first flight out." 

"That's good," she said, "I was just coming back to tell your father that I was going to go visit the Garlands again." 

My eyebrows furrowed, "The who?" 

"The other driver in the crash," my dad said softly.