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** BRIAN **

I hate hospitals. I know a lot of people say that, but I really do hate them. They remind me of the fact that I was a sick kid; that I was, and still am, different from everyone else.

“Bri, do you have anything to add?”

I shook my head at the mention of my name, pulling my eyes away from the grey specks in the worn linoleum floor. Everyone was looking at me rather expectantly, but I hadn’t been following the conversation. Agent Adams had been grilling us about the moments leading up to AJ’s fall, but I hadn’t noticed anything unusual. I had been too preoccupied with the fact that I sang lead for a good portion of ‘We’ve Got It Goin’ On’ to pay attention to anyone but myself. It was no secret that I was struggling vocally and our older songs tended to give me waves of anxiety.

“I didn’t see anything.” I responded so generically that Agent Adams actually raised his eyebrows. “I was focused on – on trying not to sound like shit.”

Kevin ran a hand across his face and learned his head back against the wall. He looked rough. Even his monstrous eyebrows were dishevelled. “This wasn’t an accident.”

Nick visibly paled at Kevin’s statement. “Don’t say that, Kev.”

“It’s- It’s true.” AJ’s slurred intrusion brought me fully back to the present. His head lolled to the side as he spoke; he was pumped full of enough pain killers to sedate a full-grown horse. “Somebody tried to kill me, bro.”

I hid my smile at AJ’s use of the term ‘bro’. He was seriously doped out of his mind. While I was immensely glad that he wasn’t in pain, or paralyzed, or dead, I was somewhat worried about the lasting impact that the drugs would have on his physical and mental state. Given AJ’s history, I was always a bit wary whenever I found out that he was on any kind of prescription medication.

“I – I just – I need a minute.” Nick stood up from his seat in a rush of sweat and cologne. He practically threw himself through the door without giving any of us a second glance.

“Was it something I said?” AJ let out a peal of morphine-induced laughter and rolled his head around on the pillow. “I can smell myself. I don’t smell good. Nobody in this room smells good.”

“Jesus …” Howie shook his head at AJ’s comment. “Maybe he needs a little bit less morphine.”

“I’m sorry, Howie.” AJ blinked rapidly in an attempt to focus his medicated eyes on Howie’s face. “Don’t be sad. You smell good. It’s everyone else who stinks.”

“I’m going to go check on Nick.” I stood up from my seat and cast a quick look at Howie and Kevin, who both nodded in agreement, before turning to AJ. “Bro, you need to have a nap.”

“Did you guys hear that?” AJ’s cackle followed me into the hallway. “Brian just called me ‘bro’!”

A preliminary scan of the corridor confirmed that Nick was no longer in the hallway. Well aware of the fact that I was being tailed by a silent, but huge, new member of our security team, I hurried towards the elevator. I had noticed a small courtyard off to the side of the main entrance of the hospital, and I was pretty sure that was where Nick was hiding.

My suspicions were confirmed as soon as I stepped out into the muggy night. I could see Nick sitting on the bench closest to the small fountain; his shoulders turned inwards, his head in his hands. The bodyguard who had accompanied him was standing several feet away, attempting to offer Nick some privacy while still keeping him in sight. I gave the man, whose name I couldn’t remember, a small smile as I passed. He nodded in return, stepping even farther back into the shadows to join his buddy who had accompanied me downstairs.

I didn’t say anything as I slid onto the bench. I just sat there, listening to Nick cry and watching the water splash and bubble up into the fountain. After a few agonizing minutes, Nick sat up and leaned back, sticking his long legs straight out in front of him. His shoulder rested against mine; his skin was sticky from the night that was heavy with humidity. He made no effort to wipe away the tears that were still rolling down his cheeks.

“This is my fault.”

“The doctor already said that the minor injury that AJ suffered when you knocked him to the floor had no impact on the injuries that he sustained during …”

“Not that.” Nick cut me off, his eyes focused on the water in the fountain. “It’s my fault that AJ fell. I knew that it was going to happen and I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

I opened my mouth and let out a small squeak as I struggled to figure out what to say. Nick’s comment had caught me off guard. What was he talking about?

“What do you mean you knew that AJ was going to fall?”

“It was right there in the story and I didn’t say anything.” Nick sniffed loudly and finally wiped at his wet cheeks. He was still refusing to look at me. “They’re going to go after Kevin next.”

“Who’s going to come after Kevin? What story?” I could hear the agitation and the anxiety in my voice and I tried to suppress them both. Nick wasn’t making any sense.

The story! I don’t know how she’s doing it, but she’s predicting everything that’s going to happen to us. I read the chapter about AJ falling before it happened and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want you guys to know that I was reading fan fiction!”

“Fan fiction …” I paused and stared at the pennies that lined the bottom of the fountain.

Nick was clearly suffering from some unique form of post-traumatic stress. AJ’s fall hadn’t been easy to watch. I could still see the look of terror on his face, see his mouth forming a large ‘O’ of surprise as the scaffolding had given away beneath his feet. The sound of his body hitting the ground would live with me forever. The crunch had been so loud that I had heard it over the music. I shuddered; I would never be able to perform ‘We’ve Got It Goin’ On’ again.

“Here.” Nick hastily pulled his phone out of his pocket and navigated to a website. He thrust the device into my hands and resumed his hunched over, head in his hands position. “See for yourself. I’m a fuck up.”

I dropped my eyes to the screen and began to scroll quickly through the information. Nick had called up a fan fiction website that was littered with stories starring the five of us. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. I had just noticed my name next to a ‘graphic sexual content warning’. My mind was working overtime as my finger hovered over the screen. What was I supposed to click on?

“Look at the most recent story by ‘Dancing_Blueberry’.” Nick mumbled as if reading my mind.

“Nick, this is – this is – well, this is a bit strange.” I jabbed at the link and waited for the page to load. I was trying to tread cautiously. I didn’t want to tell Nick that I thought that he was bat shit crazy if he was legitimately suffering from some kind of serious mental trauma. “How do you even know about this website?”

“Steetfics.net is, like, the most popular site.” Nick lifted his head and looked at me as if I were the one who was crazy. “You’ve never heard of it?”

“Brian! Nick!” Kevin’s overly tired voice cut through the thickness of the air. “We’re going back to the hotel.”

I let out a low sigh and got to my feet. My cousin had impeccable timing. I handed Nick his phone as he, too, got begrudgingly to his feet. I hated the fact that he was beating himself up over something that was clearly not his fault, but I had no idea what to say to him.

“Brian …” Nick caught my arm as I turned to head back towards the entrance to the hospital where Howie and Kevin were waiting. “…you have to read it.”

“You want me to read the blueberry thing?” I could hear the doubt in my voice. “You’re serious about this?”

Nick’s eyes captured mine with such intensity that I had to force myself not to look away. He looked haunted, tortured by guilt. “If it were anyone but you, I would have kept this to myself.” Nick’s face flushed. “I need you to be on my side, Bri. I need you to at least promise me that you’ll read the story.”

I couldn’t say ‘no’. I had never been able to say ‘no’ to Nick. “Okay, Nick.”

I read it as soon as we got back to the hotel. I read all seventeen chapters in one sitting. I read every single one of the 43,724 words that ‘Dancing_Blueberry’ had penned about our fictional lives. I read about fictional Howie being poisoned, about fictional AJ crashing through the stage, about fictional Nick breaking down, about fictional me struggling with my fictional marriage. The final chapter that had been posted ended with fictional Kevin being tailed by an unknown assailant; clearly about to be attacked in some gruesome, painful fashion.

The realism was both haunting and strangely comforting at the same time. This girl was writing as if she knew us, as if she had been watching us interact with one another for her entire life. The thoughts and feelings that she had identified and brought to the surface were beyond believable; they were downright true for the most part.

“Did you finish it?”

I lowered the iPad to my lap and rubbed at my bleary eyes. The bedside clock confirmed that I had been reading for over two hours.

“What do you think?”

What did I think? What did I think? I knew what I thought, but I was too scared to say it out loud. I didn’t want to tell Nick that I thought that he might be on to something. The events in the story were too close to the events that were happening in real life. Too close.

“Do you guys really hate all the Wylee stuff?”

“Come on, Bri.” Nick shifted on his bed so that he was able to look into my face. “I need to know what you think.”

I frowned. I had kind of wanted Nick to answer my question. “I think – I think that I have a lot of question as to why you were even reading fan fiction in the first place.”

Nick’s face fell. Even in the semi-darkness I could see that he was blushing.

“I also think that you may be on to something.” I slid the iPad onto the bedside table and sank down under the covers. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep; my mind was currently working overtime. But, at the same time, I wanted to avoid the impending conversation until I had narrowed down my thoughts. There were too many things to consider at the moment. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“Sure.” Nick switched off his phone, plunging the room into darkness. He rustled with his own covers for a few seconds before speaking again. “Brian?”

“Yeah, Nick?”

“Thanks for not being a dick.”