"Dall, hey, darling. Are you feeling okay? Your face is all red," I asked Dallon softly. His eyes were glassy, and his skin was flushed a blotchy red. "M'fine," he mumbled, swatting me away. "Dall, I don't-" He shook his head, wincing lightly. "I'm fine, Brendon. We need to finish shooting this and then head to the venue," he slurred a bit. Today we were filming a music video for our song "Miss Jackson" and then we had a show later in Vegas. Dallon looked like he was overheating. "Dall, I think you have he-" He cut me off with a wave of his hand. "I'm fine, I pr- can you grab me a water," he asked as he stumbled back slightly. "Yeah, definitely. Are you sure you don't need to sit down for a few minutes," I worried. He didn't even acknowledge what I'd asked him. He just took the water and took a sip, closing his eyes as the icy liquid made its way down his throat.
He lazily walked over to his mark for the video, and stood there with a dazed look on his face. He took one more sip of the water and shivered. It was nearly 100° out. There was no way he could be cold. I was so worried about my boyfriend, but it's not my business. Dallon is a grown man, who can care for himself if he refuses help. Surely, if something was really wrong, he'd take care of it, right?
I kept letting my gaze wander over to him during the shoot, making us have to redo the scene multiple times. "Brendon, what's the matter? You keep looking over at-" I interrupted Zack and sighed. "Dallon. I know. I'm sorry. I think something's wrong-" I was cut off by Dallon running off behind the bus. I followed him and saw him throwing up. "Dallon, hey, are you alright," I asked. He nodded and went to speak but would up vomiting again. "Will you sit down now? You clearly have h-" He shook his head and walked right back to the set. "M'fine, Bren. I guess I ate something bad," he slurred and staggered away from me. "Is he okay, Bren," Zack asked. I didn't even look up. "No."
The rest of the shoot went fine, but we needed to head straight to the venue for sound check. All of us were tired and pretty warm, but Dallon was red in the face and drenched in sweat. He told me he was freezing. He had changed into a hoodie and had a blanket wrapped around himself. On the bus ride to the venue, he sat in the back room and stared off. I only know because I went back to check on him multiple times and was met with the same sight every time.
"Hey, Dall, we're here. Do you need anything before w-" He groaned and threw his head back. "Stop it, Brendon. M'just tired is all. Leave me alone," he sighed, passing me while walking off the bus. Every fiber of my being was telling me to grab Dallon by the ear and drag him to the nearest hospital, but I knew that he was too stubborn to accept help.
I had told Zack and Tony my concerns while everyone was setting up their instruments. "Brendon, if something is the matter with Dallon, he needs to deal with it. I'm sure he's fine. We don't have time for this right now," Zack spoke in an insincere tone. I nodded and went to the stage to start sound check. I noticed Dallon pulling out a container of ibuprofen from his backpack. "Hey, Dall. You okay," I bounded over to him. "Shut up, Bren. M'fine," he assured me, staggering back to his bag and popping the pills in his mouth.
I sighed and made my way over to the mic stand. Sound check was going well and we were almost finished when Dallon covered his mouth with his fist for a moment. He had to stop playing for a few seconds. After the song was over, he ran to the bathrooms and threw up for the second time. "Dallon, are you in here," I asked softly as I entered the bathroom. "Y-yeah, I'm in h-" He started throwing up again, the sound leading me to the open stall he was in. "Dall, baby, I think you have heatstroke. I've been trying to tell you this all day," I finally got out. He shook his head and leaned against the side of the stall he was in.
"I don't have h-heatstroke. Leave me al- can you grab my blue jacket from backstage?" I sighed and sat next to him. His eyes were shut as he tried to focus on not vomiting again. "Hun, you're wearing your blue jacket," I told him. Dallon shook his head at me. "No, I'm not, Brendon. Quit being stupid. I wouldn't be so fucking freezing if I had my hoodie on," he argued. "Dall, you have your hoodie on right now," I assured him. He groaned and shivered closer to me.
I brought my hand up to his forehead and was startled by how warm it was. "Dall, you're running a fever." He shook his head and swatted in my general direction. "No, I'm not. Shut up," he groaned. "Okay. Why were you taking ibuprofen earlier," I asked him, still speaking softly. "My head was bothering me. I'm fine now. Can you help me get up?" I sighed and helped him to his feet. "Are you sure you're alright," I repeated. He nodded hazily after leaving a kiss on the top of my head and went to the dressing room to get changed into show attire.
I couldn't convince Dallon to do anything about his illness, and he started refusing to drink any water. He wouldn't admit to feeling horrible, so no one believed me. By 8 o'clock, we all headed onto the stage. I was so nervous for Dallon. He was going to make himself feel even worse.
The show was going perfectly until we heard a loud sound, and the bass and background vocals stopped. Everyone looked around at each other, trying to find the source of the noise. I went to look to Dallon, but he was passed out on the stage. "Shit," I accidentally muttered into the microphone and rushed over to him. "Damnit, Dallon, I told you," I whispered as I started taking off his blazer. "What the hell just happened," Zack asked as he came running from backstage. "I was trying to tell you and Tony earlier. Dallon has heatstroke and refused to do anything about it. He's thrown up like three times a-and just damn it! Go get some cold packs. We need to move him backstage," I told him.
Kenny helped me lift Dallon and carry him to the couch in our dressing room. Zack met us there with a cooler of cold packs. I started undressing my unconscious bandmate and placing cold packs all over him as Zack phoned for the paramedics to come pick him up. "B-Brendon," Dallon exclaimed as he shot up off the couch. He looked down at his nearly naked body that was only covered by his boxers and some cold packs. "W-what the-" he started. "Hey, hey, Dallon. I need you to calm down. The ambulance will be here soon," I assured him. "Oh god, the ambulance? What did I do? What did I do," he started tearing up and trying to move off the couch.
"Dallon, stop it, hun. You have heatstroke, and you passed out during the show. You need to rest." He shook his head, and I watched his face contort as he cried. "Hey, you're going to be okay. The paramedics are going to take you to the hospital and make you feel all better, okay?" He reached for my hand and continued crying. "Brendon, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I hate being sick and getting people's sympathy, and I thought it was pass," he explained. "I know that, honey, but look where that got you," I told him as I kissed him warm forehead.
"You're okay, baby. Let's get you a shirt okay?" He nodded and wiped his eyes. I walked over to his bag and grabbed a clean shirt. "They'll be here any minute, Dall. You'll feel better in no time," I promise. He sniffled and grabbed my hand. "Thanks, Bren. I love you," he whispered weakly. "I love you too, hun."
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A/N
This request was from rainydaydal . Sorry I'm not updating regularly. I've been busy as hell. I love you all 🧡
✌🏼Your Author👌🏼
