Nowhere to Hide

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You look on as usual during the show. The lights and sound of the show seem... louder than they normally do. You try not to seem overwhelmed, since Zack is standing so close by the whole show. The show ends and you're grateful that you'll be going to bed soon.

Brendon runs off stage straight over to you and you are enveloped in his arms. "Congratulations babe," you exclaim, "another amazing show on the books!" He pulls back and kisses you.

"What did I do to deserve you?" He whispers. The goofiest smile overtakes your lips and you feel like a five year old. He takes your hand and you walk over to where the band has gathered in a circle along with Zack. They were chatting about the show. Brendon is putting in his two cents.

Their voices seem to dampen. You feel sick to your stomach.

Oh no. Oh NO NO NO NO.

You think back and remember you never took your medication that morning, too caught up in getting to soundcheck on time. You have the distinct feeling: you're about to have a seizure. You step back from the circle. You don't want to tell anyone, but you can't possibly go through it alone. You will yourself to tug on the sleeve of Brendon's jacket like a child to get his attention. He turns around and the smile on his face instantly disappears.

He wraps an arm around you with concern growing in his eyes, and starts to walk you away from the group. "Y/n? What's wr–"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," you interrupt him.

His facial expression widens and he looks up, spotting the nearest trash bin and rushes you over to it. You're grateful that it's out of the view of the boys, blocked by a wing curtain. You grip the bin and lean over. Brendon gathered up your hair and placed his hand on your back. You hesitate and then finally gag and vomit.

"Okay," Brendon comforts you quietly, "it's alright baby."

Brendon's voice fades in and out. You're crying now. You try to speak but it's difficult.

"I'm so sorry," you try, "I lied to you."

Brendon knows something is horribly wrong when you start to speak. You sound confused, your voice slurring. You're becoming less coordinated. He leans you into him, half to comfort you, and half to steady you.

"Baby?" He inquires, much more concerned about your health than what you were talking about. Your eyes wouldn't focus on any one thing.

"I lied, I'm sorry I lied," you continue to cry incoherently. You're words are so jumbled, Brendon can barely understand what you're even saying.

You were so stupid. You should have told him about your epilepsy, but you lied instead. You stumbled over your own foot and Brendon grabbed you, holding you up.

"Okay, it's okay," he reassures you again, "Come here baby." He's walking you to a nearby chair. He all but carries you the three steps over to it, your legs unable to cooperate.

You feel the chair beneath you now. Brendon kneels down in front of you and looks like he is saying something, but you don't hear anything. His face is fading away. You're scared. You're screaming internally, begging him not to leave you. Your cries stop quite abruptly and that's the last thing you remember.

Brendon notices your expression fall blank as you became silent. It is the same look you had on your face that morning. His heart sinks. He places his hands on your shoulders.

"Y/n?" He calls to you, trying not to panic. You don't respond. "Y/n?" He pleaded. He needs to go get help, get Zack. He glances up but there's no one around.

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