It's such a tragedy.
A tear rolled down Daniel's face, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. He held onto his watermelon pillow tightly as another tear fell down his face, creating a small wet spot on his pillow.
Jonah pulled open the curtain on Daniel's bunk. "Daniel? What's going on? Why are you crying?"
Daniel sniffled, shaking his head.
Jonah looked closer. "Wait... what? Are you watching Ugly Dolls on your laptop? You know they told us they didn't put our song in the movie, right? Is that why you're crying?"
Daniel hiccupped. "It's... it's just so beautiful."
"Huh?" Jonah asked, confused.
"The movie, it's... It's beautiful."
Jonah shrugged. "You know what, enjoy the sock puppet movie. I'll be doing something that's..." He sighed. "Something that's not crying over a cutesy kids movie."
Jonah closed the curtain, going into the back lounge where the rest of the boys were playing Fortnite.
Corbyn slid his headphones off. "So? What's the deal with Daniel? Is he okay?"
Jonah raised an eyebrow. "He was crying over Ugly Dolls."
"Huh?" Jack said, clicking his mouse aggressively as he stared at his laptop screen. "How's he crying over that? Zach and I watched it with Isla and Reese and they just thought it was cute."
Jonah shrugged. "He said it was beautiful or something. I don't even want to know. Even Svea's too old for that movie."
Zach shrugged. "Typical Dani. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really the youngest in this band."
Corbyn laughed. "No, he's just innocent, and sweet, and sensitive..."
"Seriously, though, he has to toughen up eventually." Jonah frowned. "This world is cruel. It'll rip him apart if he doesn't learn how to face it."
"True."
~~~~~~
It was finally nighttime, and they had parked the tour bus at a trailer park to get some sleep.
Daniel woke up in an uncomfortable sweat. His heart was pounding out of his chest. He felt a vague sensation numbing his mind. He propped himself up, trying to catch his breath.
And then it hit him.
I'm going to throw up.
He slid out of his bunk, stumbling to the bathroom. He didn't even bother to turn on the lights as he leaned over the toilet bowl and emptied the contents of his stomach directly into it. In the dark, all he could sense was the burning pain through his throat and the unwavering noxious taste in the back of his throat. He heaved, and heaved, and heaved, and cried as the nauseous feeling overwhelmed him.
When he was done, he locked the door and leaned against it, tears streaking down his face. He felt horrible. He just wanted to be home again. He missed his mom, and his dad, and his siblings, and his home. He was in so much pain--
A loud knock on the door roused him from his thoughts.
"Yes?" Daniel said, trying to clear his throat so he didn't sound like he was crying.
Jonah's voice came from the other side. "Hurry up, please. I have to go."
"Okay. Sorry." Daniel replied, flushing the toilet and rinsing his mouth in the sink.
He opened the door. "Jonah, I'm feeling--"
"Give me a minute." Jonah said as he pushed past the younger boy and entered the bathroom.
Daniel sat down on the ground, feeling the tears rise up again. He was practically drowning in the misery. His head was spinning, his body felt heavy, his heart was still pounding, and he could still taste the vomit in the back of his throat. Just thinking about it made him feel sick. Even sicker than before.
He retched, clapping his hands over his mouth.
Jonah came out of the bathroom and he ran inside, leaning over the toilet as he vomited once more, tears stinging his eyes.
Jonah frowned. "What's going on?"
Daniel looked up at him with tearstained eyes. "I don't feel too well."
Jonah sighed. "I think you've just been crying so much that you've made yourself sick. Go to the kitchen, get some medicine, eat something that's not too sweet, and go back to bed. You're old enough to deal with it yourself." The older boy walked away, and Daniel heard the sound of his bunk curtain sliding shut.
Daniel wiped his tears away and stood up, stabilizing himself on the edge of the sink.
Maybe Jonah's right.
He delicately rose, swaying like a willow as he went to the kitchen to get the medicine. Nothing seemed to help. Even as he got back in his bunk, he was still mind-numbingly dizzy. His heart was pounding hard. All he could hear was the blood pulsing through his body. Something was definitely wrong.
He let there in bed, trying to take deep breaths. Nothing was helping. He felt woozy, and more than anything there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something was seriously wrong. But he kept waiting for the medicine to kick in.
He turned on his phone to check the time and frowned. It was almost four in the morning. The medicine obviously hadn't worked. A tear fell from his face and he didn't bother to wipe it away.
I'm scared. I don't want to die.
I have to do something.
He slowly eased out of the bunk and tip-toed quietly down to Jonah's bunk.
He slid the curtain open. "Psst. Jonah." he whispered.
The older boy didn't move.
"Jonah." he tried again,
He tapped the older boy on the shoulder. "Please, Jonah."
The older boy grumbled as he turned over. "Jeez, Daniel, what is it this time?"
Daniel shrunk back apologetically. "I'm sorry, I just feel really sick. I want to go to a doctor, please. I'm scared."
"Of frickin' course. Of course you're scared." Jonah seethed. "Just suck it up already. I want to sleep. The doctors aren't going to be open for you now anyways."
"The hospital?" Daniel pleaded.
"Please. We're not going to the hospital because you cried yourself into throwing up. You have to learn how to toughen up. Just go to sleep." Jonah scolded as he turned back over in his bunk, away from Daniel.
Jack's voice came from the upper bunk. "Hey, shut up and let the rest of us sleep."
"Yeah." Zach's voice came from the same direction.
"What the hell? Are you two in the same bunk or something?" Jonah asked.
There was a silence.
A sheepish voice emerged. "We wanted to cudd-"
Corbyn interrupted the sentence, sliding his bunk curtain open. "Guys, be quiet already. We have a show tomorrow, we should be asleep. Not sitting around chatting at--" he glanced at his phone-- "four in the morning."
"Yeah." Jonah sighed. "Daniel, go to bed."
The blue-eyed boy reluctantly agreed, clambering back into his bunk. He could feel a headache coming on, a dull pressing ache in the back of his head. He could hear his heart pounding through his skull. But there was nothing he could do about it.
A tear fell from the corner of his eye.
The boys don't care about me.
Another tear fell.
They don't care that something's seriously wrong.
A third teardrop.
Nobody cares. I'm all alone and nobody will ever help me.
He was pretty sure that he was full-on crying by now.
I'm not strong enough. I'm not a man. I'm not tough enough, I'm not resilient enough, I'm not brave enough.
I hate myself.
He let the tears fall. In a fit of anger, he tried to whip his watermelon pillow to the other side of the bunk. It hit the wall and bounced off, the unexpectedly hard corner flying straight into a rather sensitive part of his anatomy.
He recoiled from the jolt of pain, in turn smacking his head on the ceiling of the wooden bunk.
Quickly, he clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his sobs quiet as he curled up into a ball.
Not only was he sick and weak and utterly useless, he felt stupid.
~~~~~~
Morning came. Warm golden sunlight streamed through the windows. The birds were chirping melodiously outside. The fragrance of Jonah's morning coffee danced through the air. He heard the flash of Corbyn's camera outside his window-- probably to photograph some plant or another. The world was waking up.
Daniel still felt horrible.
Still, he forced himself out of bed as soon as his alarm rang, the sound piercing through his skull. Just the act of standing up made him dizzy, and black spots pulsed in his vision. The dull pain in his head had morphed into an sharp sting. He slowly made his way to the kitchen, inhaling sharply as the bright light from the window glared into his eyes.
He stumbled over to the couch and sat down, rubbing his forehead. There was a small bump there from when he'd hit his head on the bunk last night. It was tender and sore, but nothing like the pain throbbing through his skull.
Jonah sat down with his coffee. "Morning, bro. You feeling better?"
I'd really like to just roll over into my grave right now.
But I have to be strong. I have to be-- a man.
"A little, I guess." Daniel responded.
Jonah gently put down his Harry Potter on the table. "So..."
Daniel turned to him.
Jonah raised an eyebrow. "So next time, you won't wake us up in the middle of the night so we can be your mommy and daddy?"
Daniel felt a blush spread over his face, suddenly feeling guilty. "I'm sorry."
"Hm?" The manager frowned, looking up from his phone. "Daniel, what's this I'm hearing about you waking up the band?"
Jonah sighed. "In the middle of the night, he woke us all up to tell us he wasn't feeling well."
That wasn't what I was trying to do.
The manager sighed. "Daniel, come on now, you're touring. You can't make everyone here tired like this or we're going to start looking disorganized, lazy, and boring. Nobody wants that."
Daniel nodded. "I'm sorry."
I'm a failure.
"I don't want to hear that this is happening ever again, you got it?"
It's not like I wanted it to happen.
"Yep." Daniel said. "It won't happen again."
~~~~~~
They drove for a couple hours to the venue for the night's show. It was pretty large, a size that they'd had to get used to on the tour.
The boys had been quiet, keeping to themselves. They were all glued to their phones. It didn't look like any of them wanted to talk, and so Daniel followed suit and tried to take a nap. But he couldn't fall asleep and ended up just lying there in his misery. His stomach ached, his head throbbed, and the room felt unsteady.
Before they went onstage for the sound check, he tried to confess to Corbyn.
"Hey, I'm not feeling too well. I think I might be-"
"Look, Daniel." Corbyn interrupted. "We're all tired because you found it so important to tell us you felt sick last night. Most of us didn't even fall back asleep after that. You're probably just not getting enough sleep. Do you see now why it's so important for us to get sleep and not be awoken in the middle of the night because someone's being a baby?"
None of them fell back asleep either?
Corbyn sighed. "Now stop bothering me, we have a rehearsal to get to."
Daniel sighed. Maybe I'm okay? If anything, I'm okay enough to perform this show.
At least, I hope so.
After Corbyn's comment, he was starting to realize that they weren't just being quiet. They were mad at him for waking them up.
A deep feeling of guilt penetrated his heart, and he considered apologizing. He should have been able to deal with it himself. He was a failure, and he had made them suffer because of it.
It was all he could think about through the entire sound check. It didn't matter that his head was pounding in pain, that he was dizzy, that he was dying to lie down.
But he had hurt the whole band, and that felt worse than any headache.
When the sound check was over, they split up. Jack and Zach went out to explore the venue. Jonah was backstage with his family, who were visiting. And Corbyn muttered some unintelligible excuse before he slipped out of the green room.
Daniel lay on the couch, trying to get some much-needed rest. But his headache was too jarring, and all he could do was lay there in his agony, rubbing his temples, hoping for the pain to fade.
Eventually, Jonah returned, and then Corbyn. Jack and Zach returned shortly after. They returned to being their standoffish personalities, sticking to their phones and generally ignoring him.
Just as he was about to stand up and make an apology, the venue manager entered the room. "Good evening, boys. Your Limelight portion of the show will start soon, so you'd better get ready."
Daniel nodded, and the boys got up. Zach checked his hair in the mirror, Jack got a drink of water, Jonah changed his shirt, and Corbyn headed to the bathroom.
Daniel sighed. I'll apologize later. It'll be fine.
Limelight was usually his favorite part of the tour. There were no intimidating stage lights, there was no giant screaming crowd that would recognize any mistake, there was no choreography to think about. It was just him, his bandmates, and the fans, one-on-one. They could have genuine conversations, interact in real time.
But he just felt out of it. He tried to smile, and laugh, and joke around, but he was in too much pain to think. A large part of him wanted to go back into the green room and lie down. He wasn't in the mood to be the Daniel Seavey that the Limelights expected him to be.
"Daniel, are you okay?" one of the Limelights asked.
He tried to smile. "Yeah, of course. I just spaced out a little." He curled his toes as his head throbbed.
The girl laughed. "Okay. Because it looked for a second like you were about to cry."
"Really?" Daniel tried to laugh. "Oh, that's hilarious." He clenched his fist as a wave of vertigo washed over him.
Sooooooo hilarious.
The Limelight wasn't done yet. "Meh, it's probably just resting giraffe face."
Daniel made a mock offended look. "Okay, you mentioned giraffes, I'm done with you." he said, walking away. He felt himself lose his balance for a second and tried to casually stabilize himself on Zach's shoulder.
"Wait, Daniel!" the girl giggled. Zach turned to him, giving him a confused look.
He needed a break. He wanted to be charismatic and cool, but could he do it when he was falling to pieces on the inside?
He closed his eyes and quickly dodged out of the door. He glanced around the hallway quickly before ducking into the men's bathroom.
Inside, he steadied himself on the counter, leaning over it. He stared down at the sink, trying to get the world to stop spinning. He was just... so... dizzy.
The manager walked into the room. "Daniel, what're you doing? You know it's Limelight, right? People are paying to see you. You're not supposed to leave the room."
"I'm sorry." Daniel said quickly. "I was just..."
Feeling like I'm going to die?
"...um, really needing the bathroom." he lied.
"Okay, get back in there." the manager told him, beckoning him towards the Limelight room.
As Daniel slid out the door, he heard a quiet remark.
"God-awful kid. First he's waking everyone up, then he's ditching Limelight? The hell is going on?"
He felt his face redden. I'm not trying to mess everything up.
Daniel returned to the room. He tried his hardest to be happy and smiley and funny with the Limelights, but it took so much effort. When they left, he was conpletely emotionally drained.
By the time they had to go onstage, all he wanted was to go home and get in bed and sleep away the misery.
But it was too late.
He felt his stomach drop as he walked onto the stage, hearing the crowd screaming out. The piercing screams shattered his eardrums. It felt like his head was crumbling away. Daniel instinctively rubbed his forehead, blinking away the tears. He felt absolutely horrible.
Suddenly, the song was starting and he couldn't remember the lyrics to save his life. No matter how many times he'd performed the song, no matter how much he loved this verse, his mind was too focused on the pain to try to recall the lyrics.
"I don't want a girl who rides the bus..." He mumbled, but the words felt wrong in his mouth. The song kept playing but he couldn't sing. His head was spinning, he felt queasy, and the crowd wasn't making things any better.
He heard Jonah's voice singing his part. "I want a girl who rides the bus and wearing baggy jeans, rocking Nike Airs..."
Daniel felt like he was in a blur. He tried to stumble around and follow the choreography, but his mind was swimming around in confusion.
Jonah nudged him after he was done singing his part. "Dude. Focus. This is it." the older boy muttered in an annoyed tone.
Daniel nodded apologetically. He tried his best to remember his lyrics, managing to sing the next few songs. His issues came more with the choreography. He tried so hard to perform it; left foot- right foot- left arm- right foot- what...?
It all jumbled up in his head. Usually it came naturally, they had rehearsed so many times that his body just moved to the music. But this time, he was so dizzy, so nauseous, so confused that his body just wanted to run offstage and lie down somewhere and wait for the world to collapse around him.
He was fighting the urge more and more with every passing minute. It felt like a painstaking agony until the first break. By the end of the set, he was fighting to stay focused.
The breaks that the boys got were less of a relaxation time and more of a quick-change type thing. They usually had to change into a completely different outfit as quickly as they could, maybe grab a sip of water, and then get back onstage.
Daniel practically ran offstage as soon as the song ended. The boys had curtained-off stalls for them to change in, but Daniel ran past his stall and straight for the garbage can.
He vomited.
The burning liquid stung his tired throat, the rancid odor causing him to cringe. Tears leapt to his eyes and he quickly wiped them away, steadying himself on the edge of the trash can.
He took a deep breath.
You have to keep going. They need you.
Daniel ran back into the stall, changing into the next outfit. This one was his favorite, mainly because of the two chains that hung off the edge of his pants. They never ceased to make to him feel cooler than he really was.
But they didn't add anything to his confidence this time.
He went up to Zach. Maybe the younger would take pity on him.
"Zach, I'm not feeling well. I don't know if I can do it."
"Ho-ly." Zach muttered. "Get a toothbrush. Your breath smells horrible."
Jack turned towards him. "Daniel, it's one show. Everyone paid to be here. Stop whining. Don't be a wimp, don't disappoint everyone out there. Just do the show and you can complain all you want when it's over."
"Okay." Daniel mumbled.
He was so dizzy. It was like he was inside a gyroscope, spinning and spinning and spinning and never being able to stop. The venue was a hazy blur, the crowd a mass of noise. His body was a feather in a tornado, being spun round and round, twisted up and down, torn and fragile.
He could barely think about the lyrics anymore.
Getting onstage, he was supposed to jump off the center platform.
He walked to the platform, feeling shaker than usual. He wanted to have a wall beside him to keep him steady. He was scared that any moment now, he'd fall over in front of all the fans.
Daniel stepped onto the platform. Just the single step higher made him so much more dizzy. He felt black spots cloud his field of vision. Everything was so-- weird...
He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
~~~~~~
Jonah turned to watch Daniel, anticipating the big jump that the younger boy always did at the beginning of the song.
But instead of leaping forward off the platform, the slim figure almost seemed to collapse backwards and disappeared from sight.
"What the--" Jonah mutttered.
He stepped off his platform to see the younger boy lying on the ground behind his platform, unmoving.
"Daniel." Jonah said harshly. "Stop it. Get up. Daniel?"
There was no response.
Fuck.
The crowd screamed louder in confusion.
Corbyn sprinted across the stage. "Daniel, what's going on?"
Jack was right behind him. "What just happened?"
Zach grabbed Daniel's hand. It was stone cold.
"Was it really this bad the whole time?" he muttered.
The stage medics ran onstage, and three security guards carried him off the stage. They walked him all the way down to the green room and set him down on the couch.
The boys stared at the pale face in front of them.
"Should we call an ambulance?" Corbyn asked nervously. "Nothing like this has ever happened before."
The manager frowned. "Wait a little. He probably just passed out, nothing too big. He'll come back to life and be ready to jump back up on the stage before you know it."
A stage medic glanced over Daniel's unconscious form. "So, has he been telling you anything about how he's doing? Was he feeling weird at all? Acting differently? Has he eaten anything, tried anything new?"
Zach fiddled with his microphone. "Uh, maybe. He did tell us he wasn't feeling that well."
Jonah sighed, rubbing his forehead. This is all my fault. I should have known.
The manager glanced at his watch. "Boys, you have to get back on that stage. I don't care if Daniel's not there, we have a show to perform. Jack, Corbyn, any of you, take over for him."
"But--"
"I know," the manager sighed, "I'm sorry. I know you want to be with him. But we need to put on a show today. It was probably just a dizzy spell, he should be back soon."
The boys reluctantly trailed out.
"I'll let you guys know if anything happens." the manager promised.
The boys plastered stage smiles on their faces as they walked back onstage. The crowd cheered, but some of them were still shouting for Daniel.
"Guys, as you may have seen, Daniel took a bit of a fall." Jonah told the crowd.
They screamed, as usual.
"He's recovering from the fall right now, but we're going to continue the show for you guys." Jack said.
Another scream from the crowd.
"We hope he'll be able to come back onstage soon, but until then we're going to keep performing. Enjoy the show!" Corbyn said, flashing a practiced smile at the crowd. But when he turned around, his back to the crowd, he whispered a prayer for the blue-eyed boy backstage.
The first song started to play, and they did the best they could. Corbyn took over Daniel's verse. They tried to sing and perform as well as they could, but they couldn't ignore the obvious tension in the arena-- not from only the boys, but from the crowd as well.
They returned to their places for the next song, and the manager's voice appeared in their headsets.
"Daniel's awake."
Phew.
"And we're bringing him to the hospital."
Wait, what?
The music started, and Jack stumbled into Daniel's verse, still reeling from the shock of the news. The crowd screamed as he stuttered through one of the words.
The boys went through the rest of the song, a newfound concern for their missing bandmate.
~~~~~~
His hearing came back first. A quiet shuffling, whispered voices, more than one. The muffled sound of the band's voices saying something from the stage, the crowd screaming in response.
The familiar scent of the vomit refamiliarized itself with him, assaulting his senses with a sharp distaste.
And then he felt the pain, the sharp pain shooting up into his head, a duller pain enveloping his limbs.
Daniel's back arched suddenly, and the medic gasped, stepping back in shock.
"Daniel? Talk to me." the manager ordered.
The brunette groaned as he shifted around. "What... happened?" he mumbled, his eyes still clenched shut with the agonizing pain.
"Daniel, you passed out. Just before you were going to do your big jump."
The pain was so excruciating that he couldn't talk. He couldn't think about anything except for the fact that the boys were going to be mad at him.
"Where's... band?" he muttered incoherently. "Have to... get back... perform..." he slurred as he tried to sit up.
"No, relax, Dani. You're not feeling well, you should lie down."
"Imma... man... band..." Daniel mumbled.
"Ssshhhh, Daniel. Tell me where it hurts." the manager said soothingly.
"Head... stomach... throat..." Daniel rolled onto his side. "Everything."
"We should get him to a hospital." the medic said, snapping out of shock. "Better safe than sorry. This hasn't happened before, correct?"
"No..." the blue-eyed boy whimpered. "I... have... to... sing."
"Sir," the medic said, "I'm sorry, but you're in no condition to get back out there. It's one show, and then you'll be able to perform at your other shows. If something happens today, you might miss even more shows than just one. Right?"
A tear fell from a deep blue eye.
"I'm going to tell the boys. Don't leave without me." the manager said.
~~~~~~
As soon as the band stepped offstage for their quick-change, they huddled around the backstage staff.
"What's going on with Daniel? Where's our manager?" Corbyn pressed them.
"We haven't heard back from them yet." Eben supplied.
Jack was in the middle of taking off his shirt. "How bad was it? Did they say?"
Eben shook his head. "Nope."
Jonah sighed. "I can't wait for this show to be over. I have to apologize to him."
~~~~~~
The hospital had been better than he'd expected. They gave him some water and a pill for his headache; they did a couple tests on him; they were kind, patient, and efficient.
After half an hour, he was starting to feel much better. He waited in a private room with the manager, and they discussed the types of music the band was interested in making.
About half an hour later, the test results came in.
"There's good news, and there's bad news." the doctor told Daniel. "Which would you like to hear first?"
"Good?" Daniel asked quietly.
"Well, there's going to be a disease named after you."
"Wait, what?" Daniel snapped straight up in his hospital bed.
The doctor grinned mischievously. "Relax, I'm just kidding. The good news is that you're fine. There's nothing wrong with your heart or your brain."
"Okay," Daniel exhaled, "and the bad news?"
"It seems that one of the main reasons you passed out was stress. We found abnormally high cortisol levels in your blood testing, a sign that you were extremely stressed or anxious."
The manager frowned at the words. "He's a performing artist on a tour, of course he's stressed."
"I'm worried that he's overstressing. This type of stress can lead to hypertension, migraines, anxiety..." The doctor looked straight at the manager. "I'm going to suggest you give him a break from performing. Just for two, three days... Give him a chance to rest a little."
"The other band members were perfectly fine. "
"People respond to stress differently, this could just be-"
The manager turned to face the doctor directly. "This is more than just stress. I know he's stressed. They all are. Whatever's going on here is bigger than that, and I need to know what it is."
The doctor sighed. "With the headache, the vomiting, the furthest I would go for is maybe a cold. But stress can be a lot worse than it seems."
The manager's eyes softened slightly. "You're sure about this?"
"Positive."
"So he's cleared for release." the manager said.
"Yep. You're free to leave."
They paid for the tests and left the hospital in the manager's car.
A silence filled the vehicle as they pulled out of the parking lot.
"I'm sorry." Daniel blurted out. "I should have done something, I--"
"You're not the one that should be apologizing right now." the manager sighed. "It's my fault. Your livelihood is my job too, and I should have made sure you were okay. You can take the next few days off, if you'd like."
"Thanks," Daniel replied, "but no thanks. I might have to take a couple interviews off, but I have to perform. I would hate myself even more if I wasn't onstage while everyone else was."
~~~~~~
The boys were waiting in the green room now that the show had ended. The manager had waited to surprise them with Daniel, not telling them any news.
Daniel hid in the corridor as the manager entered the room.
Jonah half-leaped out of his chair. "What's going on?"
"Where's Daniel?" Jack asked.
"Is he okay?" Corbyn stood up.
Daniel popped into the doorway, a grin on his face.
"Daniel!"
Jonah took him in a hug, picking the shorter boy up off the ground. "I'm so sorry, man." the older boy whispered. "I should have taken you seriously."
"No worries." Daniel whispered back.
Corbyn pulled him into another hug. "Are you okay?"
Daniel nodded. "I'm going to skip the interviews tomorrow, maybe a bit after that, but I'm fine."
He saw the doubtful look in the blonde's eyes. "I promise, Corbs. I'm fine."
"If anything like this ever happens again, I swear we'll take you seriously. This will never happen again, okay?" Jack said quietly.
A slight blush appeared on Daniel's cheeks. "Thank you."
~~~~~~
~~~~~~
5058 words... and I thought this chapter was going to be a relaxing break after the last couple "heavy" topics I covered.
Hope you enjoyed the story! Final exams and summative projects are coming up super soon for me, so I'm not sure if I'll be writing again until July... 😔 but I'll see you then!