Dreamers [#Wattys2020]

17.

Rover.

"I don't know what happened," I can barely hear the voice talk in the room say frantically.

"Huh?" I groan as I begin to open my eyes.

A very surprised Avery rushes over to me.

"Rover?" she says. "How are you feeling?"

I'm laying on a bed covered in thick linen blankets, and I'm wearing a hospital gown.

"I'm-" I try to say something before she cuts me off anyways.

"You fell right in front of me," she tells me. "We had to cancel the whole show last night."

Again, I'm given no time to respond.

"I haven't told your parents what happened yet, but everyone kind of just thinks that you were sick last night. At least that's what I told the media so that they wouldn't speculate too much."

Avery's phone gets a text just as a nurse comes in followed by a doctor.

"Mister Baxton," the doctor greets me, "we're glad to see you awake."

She's just a couple inches taller than Avery and wearing the traditional blue scrubs that I've seen in almost every medical show, along with a lab coat of sorts.

"By the looks of it," she says, "you were probably just dehydrated last night. It can potentially be dangerous, but you're lucky to have a team of people who knew what to do."

The nurse beside her is writing down notes on the clipboard in her hands.

"We can most likely discharge you later today, but I also suggest you take a couple of days to get your strength back," the doctor tells me.

"A couple days?!" Avery comes back to the conversation. "He has a show to do tonight."

I think the doctor could see that I wanted some extra rest, so she says to Avery, "Doctor's orders."

Once Avery and I are the only people in the room, she really seems to go a little stir crazy.

"Rover," she starts, "we can't just cancel the show."

"I need time," I tell her.

"That's going to be a lot of money to refund," she huffs.

"Why don't we reschedule them for the end of the tour," I suggest. "Including the one from last night."

"That's going to be expensive," she keeps trying to find excuses.

"Then get them to take it out of my paycheck," I say.

"Well, if that's our only option, I better go make some calls," she replies as she too walks out of the small room.

Noah.

I'm just about done with my class, and when we're finally allowed to leave I pull my phone out and go straight to my direct messages and find Rover.

"How's it going?" I send him.

I half expected him to message me right away, but he doesn't.

The only thing I have left to do is make my way home on the city bus.

I pull my keys out as I get to the front door and hear it click in place before opening it. All the lights are off, which I kind of expected seeing that I'm always the first person to get home.

I go to the kitchen to quickly grab a snack before heading back up to the lair that is my bedroom. When I turn on my computer, the buzzing from the fans fills the room with sound. I finally sit down to continue the work I had probably been neglecting over the last week.

Of course, the first project that catches my eye is "Seeing You Again." It takes me a matter of seconds to decide to continue my work on it. 

I'm working on, the not so Rover, Rover's hair. His dark curls reflecting the littlest bit of light. I always thought the style suited him so well. He exuded the appearance of a mystery but his personality, the way I know him now, is one of someone who's doing his best to get through life just like everyone else. I can tell he's not where he wants to be, yet I think he needs his music more than ever even if he doesn't know it.

"Hello?" I hear my dad's deep voice call out as he walks through the door.

I put my things aside to go down and see him.

He's standing in the kitchen putting his laptop bag sown at the table.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" he asks me.

"Good," I reply, "the same as always."

"It's like everyone only ever does the same routine over and over again," he states.

"Yeah," I quietly agree before changing the subject. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, what is it?" he lifts his head to pay attention to me.

We're standing on either side of the kitchen island stuck at a standstill.

"Where did you go?" I question him.

"I was at work," he replies, but not the answer I want.

"No, I mean, where did you go?"

"You mean when-" he realizes what I'm trying to ask him.

"Yes," I say. "I'm not angry at you, I just... I want to know."

"Okay," he says as he sits down at our little dining table near the patio door.

I go and sit opposite him.

"Uh," he thinks back to that time in our lives, "I got into some trouble, I didn't want to put that burden on you, your sister or your mother, so I left. I went to prison, but your mom was quick to find out and we had agreed at the time that you girls were just too young to know. And now that you're older, I told her I would only tell you if you asked."

I get up off the chair and go over to him and hug him, "Thank you for telling me."

I feel the tension he had been holding in dissipate, "I'm glad I finally told you."

"Actually," I chuckle as I pull back, "at the time, I thought the government might have sent you up to space."

"That sounds like a much better adventure," he laughs along with me.