8 nights in hell [Billie Eilish]

NIGHT VI.2: can I please get a waffle

• pov: Mara •

I left the coffee shop with a paper bag, two cups of coffee and an out-of-tune whistle on my lips.
I had to stop myself from skipping and dancing down the sidewalk like some Stanley Donen character.

Had I slept like utter shit and also only three hours? Yes. But was I the happiest I had been since deciding to go on tour with Billie? Also yes.
Blinking against the sun and without stopping in my tracks I took a sip from one of the coffee cups. Of course that burned my mouth terribly but even that could not dampen my mood.

Only one thing was nagging me in the back of my mind. After taking out my phone, I did a quick google search and dialled a number. I did not have to try that hard. The third hospital I called was a bull's-eye. When I asked about a patient with a broken nose and described Ricky the nurse answered with a thick Czech accent, "Ah ano, he have arrived tonight. It was... let me check this. A little after four o'clock in the morning."

"How is he?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Empathy laced the nurse's voice.

I stopped and moved to the side. Pedestrians rushed past me, half running to get to work on time. "Know what?"

"He have a seizure less than an hour ago. Our doctors are doing their best in surgery but situation is difficult. We have to assume he have a..." she paused and I could hear typing on a keyboard as she looked the English word up, "... a intracerebral haemorrhage."

"What?" was all I could manage, not just because we had a language barrier.

"A bleeding," she explained, "inside the brain."

I stared down blankly at the coffee cups and bag with pastries I was holding for Billie.

"Are you family?" the nurse asked.

I was so in thought not even the busy street or the golden morning sun could snap me out of it. None of it reached me.

"Hello?"

I hung up without saying another word. Typing the address into my phone I took another sip from my coffee and started walking again.

Less than ten minutes later I arrived at the hospital. I had to see for myself. Something drove me there. It was not pity, that much was clear, but perhaps it was my conscience.
On the way I had read different articles about seizures but it was too broad of a term to jump to any conclusions. They ranged from mild to fatal and the list of causes was not short either. The second I had read 'trauma to the head' among them, my heart had dropped.

In my head I constantly repeated what the nurse had said. 'Assume' she had said. They did not know what really caused the seizure. Perhaps he was completely fine. Somewhat fine would be my preferred state.

I walked through the main entrance of the hospital and up to a site map to see which ward I had to go to. Walking up to someone to just ask was not an option as I was trying to stay on the down low.
Nurses, doctors and patient's relatives buzzed around me. I walked quickly, keeping my head down. If I looked like I knew where I was going I could probably go pretty much anywhere except for into ongoing surgery. I hoped that Ricky was already back in his room.

The ward I reached was quiet. I looked up and down the deserted hallway. On either side of it stood a few chairs in faded vomit colour. The pale light reflected on the blue vinyl floor. Every few meters came a door, numbered and labelled. I started reading the names of the patients inside. Door after door it was the wrong name. I had almost reached the end of the hallway when I found Ricky's room.

I stopped and put my ear to the door. I wanted to spend as little time as possible here. All I wanted was to see that he was alive. Not well, I did not give a shit about that part, but alive. After listening closely for a moment I pushed the handle down quietly.