Milla waited for any news about the men in the room, except for the Devil’s Fart—it had been way obvious he was roasted. The newscasters filled the airtime with pontificating about the actions of the bomb squad. They wondered aloud as to the types of lawsuits that would be filed as a result of the video surveillance of the whole situation. In between hugs from her parents, Milla surfed channels, trying to find something, anything, about Gage.
Finally she swiped her dad’s phone and called Karen. Hearing her reserved friend’s gleeful voice, Milla teared up a bit. Then she got down to business. “Can you tell me what it says on Twitter?” Milla could feel her toe throbbing again. Fuck. I bet my toe was on the floor that blew up.
“Ahhh…ummmm…maybe not. You should get some rest.” Karen was a horrible secret keeper.
“Spill it.” Milla finally settled on a channel and just left it.
“I’m sorry, Milla. RIP Daxson is trending. But that kind of stuff’s not always right.”
She could hear Karen’s keyboard clicking.
“I’ll check Facebook. Oh. Whoa.”
“What?” The suspense coupled with pain was killing her.
Ann appeared with a handful of pills and a little cup.
“Your boobs are everywhere. Wow. There’s even a meme with your boobs wearing two of Princess Eugenie’s hats. That’s just tasteless. Yup, here people are posting videos and pictures of him and saying Rest in Pieces . Society’s a classless whore. I’m so sorry. Doesn’t mean it’s true…” Karen’s voice drifted off.
Milla put her fist to her mouth and bit. There was just something about the guy. They’d spent such an intense time together. She liked him a lot. She didn’t realize she was crying until hot tears spilled over her knuckles.
Her mother returned from the bathroom and crawled into Milla’s hospital bed, smoothing her daughter’s hair. Cuddled in her mother’s arms with her father steadfastly holding her hand, Milla listened as the newscaster urgently interrupted a roundtable discussion about the procedural choices of the police.
“This just in! I’m getting right now in my earpiece that Gage Daxson, singer and young idol has died from injuries sustained in the blast. The two bomb squad men in the room have sustained injuries and are being transported. I repeat, Gage Daxson has died tonight, with the whole world watching.”
The cameraman panned out to the crowd that had formed outside the studio. He zoomed in on one teenage girl as her face crumbled. She was too far away for audio, but she was clearly screaming the word no .
Brett insisted on limping out next to the body bag. Larson stood on the other side, cradling an obviously injured arm. They refused to part with the man they were supposed to protect. There was no emotion on either of their faces. They didn’t blink nor hide when faced with the storm of flashbulbs. They stood close by as the body was loaded into the ambulance, then crawled into the rig, shutting the prying world out by slamming the doors closed.
Milla felt hollow. She had stopped crying, afraid she would send her parents into full-fledged panic attacks. Her toe was lost, though she didn’t think about it much. The physical therapist had been by to see her a few times. Although she was perky and friendly, Julie was a huge ball buster and wanted Milla to do whatever hurt her foot the most. She had shown Milla pictures of various prosthetic toes and claimed that all would look awesome in a pair of sandals. Milla was fitted with a cute little toe that oddly, after put in place, did help her balance. Milla decided right then and there to name her fake toe Gage. In his honor.
The hospital should have discharged her weeks ago, but the chief of staff kept finding reasons to keep Milla. Her mild concussion was listed on all the paperwork, but the neurologist had only visited once. He was not the least bit impressed with Milla’s head injury. There wasn’t much anyone could do about
Finally she swiped her dad’s phone and called Karen. Hearing her reserved friend’s gleeful voice, Milla teared up a bit. Then she got down to business. “Can you tell me what it says on Twitter?” Milla could feel her toe throbbing again. Fuck. I bet my toe was on the floor that blew up.
“Ahhh…ummmm…maybe not. You should get some rest.” Karen was a horrible secret keeper.
“Spill it.” Milla finally settled on a channel and just left it.
“I’m sorry, Milla. RIP Daxson is trending. But that kind of stuff’s not always right.”
She could hear Karen’s keyboard clicking.
“I’ll check Facebook. Oh. Whoa.”
“What?” The suspense coupled with pain was killing her.
Ann appeared with a handful of pills and a little cup.
“Your boobs are everywhere. Wow. There’s even a meme with your boobs wearing two of Princess Eugenie’s hats. That’s just tasteless. Yup, here people are posting videos and pictures of him and saying Rest in Pieces . Society’s a classless whore. I’m so sorry. Doesn’t mean it’s true…” Karen’s voice drifted off.
Milla put her fist to her mouth and bit. There was just something about the guy. They’d spent such an intense time together. She liked him a lot. She didn’t realize she was crying until hot tears spilled over her knuckles.
Her mother returned from the bathroom and crawled into Milla’s hospital bed, smoothing her daughter’s hair. Cuddled in her mother’s arms with her father steadfastly holding her hand, Milla listened as the newscaster urgently interrupted a roundtable discussion about the procedural choices of the police.
“This just in! I’m getting right now in my earpiece that Gage Daxson, singer and young idol has died from injuries sustained in the blast. The two bomb squad men in the room have sustained injuries and are being transported. I repeat, Gage Daxson has died tonight, with the whole world watching.”
The cameraman panned out to the crowd that had formed outside the studio. He zoomed in on one teenage girl as her face crumbled. She was too far away for audio, but she was clearly screaming the word no .
Brett insisted on limping out next to the body bag. Larson stood on the other side, cradling an obviously injured arm. They refused to part with the man they were supposed to protect. There was no emotion on either of their faces. They didn’t blink nor hide when faced with the storm of flashbulbs. They stood close by as the body was loaded into the ambulance, then crawled into the rig, shutting the prying world out by slamming the doors closed.
Milla felt hollow. She had stopped crying, afraid she would send her parents into full-fledged panic attacks. Her toe was lost, though she didn’t think about it much. The physical therapist had been by to see her a few times. Although she was perky and friendly, Julie was a huge ball buster and wanted Milla to do whatever hurt her foot the most. She had shown Milla pictures of various prosthetic toes and claimed that all would look awesome in a pair of sandals. Milla was fitted with a cute little toe that oddly, after put in place, did help her balance. Milla decided right then and there to name her fake toe Gage. In his honor.
The hospital should have discharged her weeks ago, but the chief of staff kept finding reasons to keep Milla. Her mild concussion was listed on all the paperwork, but the neurologist had only visited once. He was not the least bit impressed with Milla’s head injury. There wasn’t much anyone could do about
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