Charlie shot up from his prone position in surprise, flinching as his wound burned. “Well, in tha’ case, I’m definitely askin’!” he managed brightly, holding back another series of coughs. “Whadda ya, say Cammy? Next Friday?”
He flashed his dazzling smile and nodded. "Next Friday." This was going to be interesting. He'd have to look at his schedule to see when he could sneak off to meet this handsome guy again. "However, I do have to ask, what's the name of the man who just asked me out."
“Forgive m’impatience, dear sir. The name’s Charlie Bell,” Charlie said, his words muddled from the painkillers coursing through his veins. “Of course, I already know your name, cause y’ain’t exactly subtle.”
"Well Charlie, it's my pleasure to tell you that I haven't tried to be subtle for the past 12 years." He chuckled. "Cameron Michael Starr. Yep, that's me."
“Middle name, huh? Faaaancy. Y’see, though, m’name is ac-tu-ally Charles Richard Bellwether the Third, so I win!” Charlie said his given name with a posh British accent, but his face scrunched up in disgust after. “Blech. Icky name.”
He raised an eyebrow at him. Was he serious? Charlie Bellwether had died in a car accident years ago, his mother had been devastated. But what if he was serious? "Yeah, sure, right. Charlie Bellwether died like 5 years ago. Try again."
“Bud, I’m suuuuuper high on all sortsa painkillers right now. Think I’m conscious enough to lie to ya? I’m gonna regret gettin’ shot in the mornin’, but at the moment, it feels great to get rid of all the filters, hun.” Charlie shot him an exaggerated wink.
He was definitely surprised but didn't push further. It wasn't worth it. He smiled a little. "You're flirty when you're high, aren't you?"
“I’m always flirty, sweetheart. And for th’record, I ain’t usually high. Imma man of morals, thankyouverymuch,” Charlie said. Wow, I’m better at this then I thought! Thanks, person with a gun hired by mum.
"Well then, this should be a very interesting night. Not that I'm complaining, cutie." He winked, smirking slightly.
Charlie opened his mouth, ready to come back with a snappy remark, but suddenly collapsed against the stretcher, unconscious. An EMT moved to adjust his IV, and gave Cameron a kind look. “Don’t worry, he’ll be alright.”
"Yeah, I figured that. My sister's an EMT in Chicago." He smiled gently. He hadn't seen Rebecca in years but he was hoping she'd show up to the Chicago show.
Charlie began to wake up as he was lifted out of the ambulance. He caught flashes of faces and florescent lights as he was wheeled down a bright white hallway.
Even though the nurses made him stay in the waiting room, he felt better knowing he was at least there. He pulled his magazine close to his face, this was the last place he wanted to get mobbed.
(Sorry I left! I fell asleep :) )
Charlie slowly broke into the world of the awake. Little snippets of conversation trickled through his ears, and he fought to lift his heavy eyelids. “Oh my goodness,” he groaned. “This. Sucks.” Charlie didn’t really remember how he had gotten to the hospital bed, only remembering the blinding pain of getting shot. He gingerly touched his side, flinching as his fingers brushed the thick bandages.
Eventually, a kind nurse came up and tapped him, saying that Charlie was awake again and he was instantly up, following the nurse into his room and Cameron sat by his side. "Hey Sleeping Beauty."
Charlie immediately sat up, and scooted back as fast as he could. “With all due respect, Mr. Starr, what are you doing here? Last thing I remember is getting shot at your concert.”
He chuckled softly. "I take care of my Starr-struck nation, so sue me." He glanced up at Charlie. "You're a lot more relaxed when you're high on painkillers. You asked me out, for starters."
“I asked you ou-!” Charlie cut himself off in shock and slumped back down on the bed. “Of course I did. Curse my lack of impulse control!” He sighed, and turned towards Cameron. “Would you at least inform me of the day, time, and location of this date? I’m not one to waste golden opportunities.”
He laughed, shaking his head. "The only thing we agreed on was next Friday. And please, call me Cameron."
“Next Friday, then, Mr. St- Cameron. When do you have space in your busy tour schedule for a guy like me? 4:00? Not in the morning, of course,” Charlie replied slyly.
He thought about it for a minute. 4:00. He could get away from that meeting with no problem. "4:00 it is." He smirked slightly.
“I’m sure I can,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “sneak away from the hospital. After all, they probably won’t let me out of her for a bit. Gunshot wounds usually don’t heal very fast.”
"Yeah, I know the feeling." He checked his phone, ignoring the thousand texts from Alyssa to see the time. "I've got to be getting back, Alyssa's already going to give me hell but hey."
“Go then! You have millions of adoring fans and a whole entourage waiting!” Charlie said, making a shooing motion that didn’t cover the giant grin on his face. He spent all this time waiting for me? Damn.