Group Therapy

Chapter 27

Sang's P.O.V.

Pain like I've never felt is what wakes me up. It's like my body has been set ablaze.

I'm still in my apartment, except I'm not alone. Paramedics are standing over me and standing behind them is... Sean?

        But I can only focus on the pain right now, not why he's here.

          Light suddenly fills my eyes and I wince. It takes me a minute to realize one of the paramedics is talking to me.

       "Sang?," he asks. "Can you hear me?"

        I grit my teeth and nod.

        "Alright, you were just given a dose of Narcan," he tells me. "We're going to get you to the hospital and get you checked out, alright?"

That pretty much goes in one ear and out the other.

          I grab his arm. "Please make it stop," I beg the man. "It hurts."

              "Some people react that way to the Narcan," he tells me. "It'll pass eventually, just take slow and deep breaths."

               I try, I really do. But each inhale fucking hurts. I wish I had never called 911. This is absolute hell.

I shake my head, but nobody notices. My body is suddenly lifted up onto something and then we're moving.

I tightly close my eyes and will myself to just pass out. I'm not so lucky though.

After what feels like an eternity, I'm in the back of the ambulance, with Sean and one of the paramedics.

"You're going to be alright," Sean tells me. "North's going to meet us at the hospital."

I nod. I can't bring myself to answer him. At this point, it's taking all of my self control not to scream or cry.

        My vitals are taken and everything around me becomes background noise. Sean and the paramedic are talking, but the words aren't registering right now.

Every breath I take feels like somebody is sticking a hot knife into my chest. After a few more labored breaths, darkness takes me once again.

         I lean against the door as I wait for Eli to open up. Everything's spinning and my ears are still ringing.

Before I can process it, the door swings open and I start to fall, but I'm steadied just as quickly.

"Hi," I laugh. "You're pretty."

I love his face. And his eyes. And him.

"And you're drunk," he says, amusement written all over his face.

"Only a little," I shrug.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

I shrug again. "I didn't hate it. But it was so crowded and loud and I couldn't really enjoy myself," I say. "There was only one person I wanted to dance with tonight."

He raises his eyebrow and pulls his phone out. "The night isn't over yet."

He types something into his phone and a familiar song begins to play.

Our song.

When he was teaching me to drive only a couple years ago in his mom's car, we only had one album to listen to by Adele. And our favorite was "Make You Feel My Love".