15 | Astronaut in the Ocean (Ross)

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The hospital bedroom where Z-man lies is sterile and cold, and the faint smell of antiseptic lingers in the air. The white walls and pristine linens create an atmosphere of clinical efficiency, devoid of any personal touch.

It's strange seeing the guy who's always the life of the party in such a... non-party environment. The simple light blue hospital gown should at least have some middle fingers printed over it to do Z justice.

The soft hum of medical equipment provides a constant backdrop, a reminder of the sudden change and fragility of life.

We are all on life journeys, like astronauts. But most of us are not where we want to be. I wanted to be in space, too. I wanted to do what astronauts do. But life pushed me around, until I ended up in the ocean: somewhere where I don't belong.

With Bea, I was so close to finding myself. She was my true north.

As I stand by Z-man's side, his still form illuminated by the soft glow of the overhead lights, a sense of helplessness and fretting for my friend washes over me. The beeping monitors and the rhythmic sound of his breathing are the only signs of life. The room feels suffocating, the weight of worry pressing down on my chest. I find solace in my trust in the doctors, and the knowledge that Z-man is receiving the care he needs. He slept for almost an entire day.

When I was very little, I used to like going to the hospital. I imagined them to be holiday resorts where ill people go on vacation, and kids like me, to get away from homework.

Until dad got sick, and that was pure agony. Mom, Gus and I practically lived in hospital, at his bedside. A couple  of  frail aunts sometimes paid a call, but they just stayed quietly in the corner like old hat stands.

After that, hospitals didn't resemble holiday resorts anymore. They were now buildings that kept their patients away from the rest of the world. A kind of ark that floated along, full of life, but not participating in life. These people no longer made progress.

It made no difference where they came from, whether they were young or old. Most of the things in the world can be bought with money, but not health and not someone's heart and soul. Not a life story.

The hospital was a place where all life stories ended.

Not with banging of crash carts and loud sirens and electric shocks to the chest.

But with an empty room, a crisp white bed, a solemn silence.

"Hey, dude," Z-Man says feebly.

"Hey, Z

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"Hey, Z."

He high fives me.

"How do you feel?"

"Mmm... God-awful headache and some.... Motion sickness? My neck is sore, too. That tranq dart hurts as hell."

I feel the rage at the New Town park rangers uncoiling inside me, seeking out a fist or arm.

"Hey, it's all good tho. Mom and Dad were just here, you must've missed them.. Those arseholes needed a warrant to trash Lu's place. Dad's gonna sue their sorry ass, haha." He laughs weakly. "The perks of having a lawyer Dad, right?"

"Can I get you something? Anything at all?"

"I'd kill for my... E-cig." His words start slipping like Bambi on ice.

"Anything but that." I roll my eyes.

"Hey man. You did say anything."

We laugh.

"Maybe you should get some rest, Z."

"I've been getting twenty four hours of rest. Come on." He pats his bed.

I sit next to him. "Z, I'm sorry."

"For what?" His sad brown eyes say everything. Sorry for that creep of my brother, Gus? Sorry for getting hurt? "It's not your fault, man. Get that into that thick skull of yours."  Z chuckles. "You should be out there, talking to your girl."

The heat on my face intensifies. I keep my eyes on my feet.

"You know what your problem is?"

I glance at him briefly. What a question. "I'm pretty sure I have more than one problem."

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

My brow furrows and I meet Z's gaze. "What do you mean?"

Z coughs a little and leans toward me. "Ross, you're a great guy. You're funny, you're nice— and..."

"Z..."

Does he really want to have this conversation now?

"No, man, lemme finish. And with this girl you relax more, you become more animated. Even funnier than before, you know what I'm saying? It makes me wonder why this best version of Ross, BeaRoss, Lu would call it, can't be out all the time. People would flock to you."

"It's..." I struggle to find words, stupefied by Z's sudden, powerful candor. "It's hard to always be the best version of yourself."

"Also: screw Gus. He's got nothing on you. The dude just blew all his chances with Laurent by reporting Lu. If I was a girl, I'd date you instead of him."

"What the fuck?" I choke on an involuntary laugh.

I swore so infrequently I was still pretty bad at it.

The thought of  massive Z-man as a girl makes me laugh in earnest.

"Seriously, dude. Stop psyching yourself out. You're the better man. Hey. You know if Lu's coming? Visiting hours are almost over and..." Z's voice is like a puppy now: adorable, playful and full of poorly concealed excitement.

"She should be here soon." I dread what Lu will say to me when she does come.  She just texted me that Bea came back to the cottage. They had the "talk".

My anxious mind goes back to my favorite soothing pastime. Imagining and re-imagining Bea. Yesterday I saw her wear another face, the surprising face of sacrifice for another. The one she had not shown me before.

Bea is like one of those Russian dolls: multiple girls hidden in one. And her beast form is just another of those many admirable facets of hers.I wonder if she'll allow me to keep being by her side, and continue unwrapping the mystery that is Beatrice Laurent.

After all, what is hidden is always more intriguing than what is in plain sight.

A/N: Theme song: Kurt Hugo Schneider "Astronaut in the Ocean (but it's a piano ballad)"

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A/N: Theme song: Kurt Hugo Schneider "Astronaut in the Ocean (but it's a piano ballad)"

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