Brett closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, as the smells of freshly cooked food wafted down the luxuriously decorated corridor towards him, he was fairly positive he could make out bacon, and blueberry pancakes, waffles and so much more. His stomach growled in anticipation. He rounded the corner into the vast restaurant and his eyes lit up at the wide spread of food. A small, grey haired waitress seated him at a table for two, clearing away the second set of cutlery as she took his drinks order. He sat there momentarily, his eyes passing along the selection on the buffet table as he worked out where to start, briefly his eyes flickered up to the television set on the wall, more images of plumes of smoke rising, another disaster scene somewhere. He glanced again between the pancakes and the waffles unsure which to have first, and felt his eyes being drawn back up to the TV. This time the image displayed made him completely forget about food and his hunger. It was a picture of someone he knew. Dr Neela. Her image changed into that of a young dark haired boy, and he was no longer convinced that it had really been her. The television was on mute and though he was squinting he still couldn't make out what the subtitles said, maybe it was time to get his eyes tested? He gestured at it as the waitress deposited his vats of coffee and orange juice 'what's happened?'
She momentarily glances at the screen, and sighed deeply 'Oh, it's terrible isn't it? Chicago's been hit by suicide bombs over the last few weeks, I think five people were killed in the first one, the one they're talking about, thankfully no else has been killed since, well except for the bombers of course. Is there anything else you need, you know just to help yourself to the buffet, don't you?' as she said this she turned back to face the young man she was serving and to her surprise she saw him striding away from her towards the door. These young musician types were all the same, so flighty, must be all the drugs they take she mused to herself as she cleared away his coffee and juice.
He stood jabbing the elevator button, impatient to get back to the room he was sharing with Ray, to tell him what he'd seen. He was well aware that if he'd been the sort of person that wore a watch he would have been checking it repeatedly while he waited for it to appear. It was shocking that such a high-class hotel, with an 'all you can eat breakfast' no less, would have such slow elevators. The longer he waited the more he became convinced that it had been Neela, he knew it was a while since he'd seen her, but he'd recognise that face anywhere, though it was more familiar with a glare on it than smiling. But what if it wasn't? What if he got up there, told Ray and he freaked and they blew their chance with the producer?
The elevator finally dinged to signal its appearance and as the chrome doors slid open he stepped into the highly reflective interior. Ray hadn't mentioned Neela once in the weeks since he'd rejoined the band, all Brett knew was that he'd received a call late one night from a clearly pissed Ray telling him he was quitting medicine, and Chicago, that he couldn't deal with it anymore, whatever it was, and was there any space for him in their line up. He'd of course told him to fuck off, but when he'd called back the next day, stone cold sober this time, Brett had realised that he meant what he'd said. The band had discussed it at length over breakfast/lunch at a mom and pop diner around the corner from their hotel and finally agreed that they'd give him a two-week trial and see how it went. Those two weeks had turned into a month and he knew that Ray's presence was why they were doing so well, that and it wasn't having a bad effect on the number of groupies around either.
When they'd kicked Ray out the first time it had been because he'd lost his commitment to the band, he was more focussed on this career, and Neela, than he was on his music. But the Ray who'd come back was the one of old, the hair had been shorter, though given that he'd been back a month it was almost there, he'd also been clean shaven, that hadn't lasted long either. His first night back on stage he'd applied the black eye liner and nail varnish with the steady hand of a pro, anyone watching would never have realised that it was over a year since he'd last done it, and it had been the same ever since. Their alcohol consumption was where it was before as well, the five of them often stumbling back into whatever flea pit they were staying at as more staid people were on their way to work, and it was rare for there not to be some stunning girl on Ray's arm every night. The 'Doc Rock' of old was back, and so what if he occasionally saw him staring off into space, a pained look on his face, everyone has his demons to fight.
As the lift approached the eighth floor, he came to the conclusion that he wouldn't tell Ray yet, best to find out the details before he rushed in. He could then tell Ray after their gig tonight, when it couldn't blow their chance with the producer, and as callous as it sounded, if Neela really had been killed a few more hours couldn't make any difference.
He remembered that Ray had brought his laptop with him, and conveniently he also recalled some mention of free wireless Internet when they'd checked in, if he wasn't going to get a free breakfast he might as well make use of that. He could search the news sites and find out what really had happened. He slid the key card into the lock and as he opened the door he heard the tell tale sign that Ray was in the shower, he called out as the door swung shut 'hey dude, can I use your laptop?'
'Help yourself' echoed from the bathroom.
He quickly fired the machine up, praying that he didn't press the wrong button and wipe its contents into oblivion. He'd always been a technophobe; he left all the electrical stuff to the other guys. First stop was the CNN website and there it was, a link to a story headed 'Windy City hit by bomb blasts'. He clicked on it and skimmed the article that appeared. There it was again, Dr Neela's photo, and this time there was no question it was her, the title underneath read 'Dr Neela Rasgotra, seriously injured'. She hadn't been killed then, but she'd been hurt. He read the paragraphs beside her image; five people had been killed in that first bomb and seven seriously injured, Neela among them. Of those seven, four had since been released from hospital; she wasn't one of them, her condition was listed as serious but stable, though despite the bombing having occurred three weeks ago she still hadn't woken up.
He didn't hear the shower turn off but he heard the bathroom door creak open, and with shaking hands he rushed to minimise the page. He saw Ray smirk as he turned to face him.
'Why the sudden need for the laptop? What happened to breakfast, I didn't think we'd see you before lunch with all that free food'
He looked at him for a moment, all ability to answer his questions vanishing. It had said her condition was 'serious but stable', surely nothing could change between now and tonight? He realised he was trying to justify his decision to himself, it wasn't as if Ray had mentioned her since he'd been back, he probably didn't feel anything for her anymore, he wasn't succeeding in convincing himself of that either, but he'd made up his mind in the elevator, once the producer had left he'd tell Ray. He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he closed the laptop down 'I was, but I got there too late, so I thought I'd wait for you to get your ass in gear so we can hit to the diner down the road'
The gig had gone well, better than well, it had been amazing, not a missed note or a dropped key, well they didn't really matter in their type of music anyway, but he'd found it hard to focus on it. As soon as they'd arrived back at the hotel the band and numerous taggers on had piled into the bar, but instead Brett had headed for the elevator wanting to check for any news updates before he spoke to Ray. He found himself muttering 'come on, come on' under his breath, while he waited for it to slowly ascend. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her all day, hoping that he'd made the right decision, he'd even had flashbacks to some of the many insults she'd thrown at him, to Ray suggesting he asked her out before it became clear that that was really what he wanted to do, her storming out of her bedroom in her pyjamas, all rumpled and hair askew giving Ray grief about the noise or the groupies, he didn't think he'd had such vivid flashbacks since he'd been clean. She'd been sexy in an understated, almost librarian sort of way. He'd realised early on that he was thinking about her in the past sense and even though as far as he knew that wasn't the case he found it hard not to.
As he fired up the laptop, he flicked the TV on to CNN and found himself frozen. The story on screen was the one he wanted to hear about. City leaders in Chicago appealing for calm in the wake of further bombings, the El closed down, additional security at all airports, rail and bus stations, and finally the bit he was waiting to hear about.
'Chris, I understand there's more news from Cook County General this evening regarding those who were injured in the initial blast'
'That's correct Anna; they've issued a statement saying that two of the remaining three patients were released this morning. John Hannover and Mary Green were discharged into the care of their families three weeks after they were injured in the bombing of an antiwar rally in Grant Park, one of Chicago's main parks. It says both are said to be relieved to finally be going home'
'Is there any news on the remaining patient, Dr Neela Rasgotra?'
The face of the man on screen turned serious 'Yes there is. As you know Dr Rasgotra is on the staff here at County General and it was clear at the last press conference how her condition was affecting all those that work here. Up until now they have consistently said that though she wasn't conscious her condition was serious but stable, that has changed today. Over the last twelve hours they tell us that she's rapidly deteriorated and last we heard she was undergoing further life saving surgery'
'It sounds like the next few hours will be critical for her then?'
'They haven't said as much, but yes it will be, and reading between the lines of this press release, it's clear that they are not optimistic about the outcome'
For a moment longer he stood there and then he was flying down the corridor, the TV and laptop still soaking up electricity, the walls blurring as he passed, then he was pounding down the eight flights of emergency stairs, their dim light guiding him on. There wasn't time to wait for the elevator, hell he shouldn't have waited for it this morning, he should have taken these stairs two a time to tell Ray what he'd seen, instead he'd waited and it felt like he'd almost sentenced her to death.
He burst through the doors into the bar, searching out Ray in the crowds of people that filled it as he tried to regain his breath. He didn't see him on his first scan but he finally spotted him leaning against one end of the bar, his arms wrapped around a leggy blonde, his head buried in her hair. He took a deep breath as he walked over, preparing to blow any façade that Ray was displaying away. Ray looked up briefly as he approached.
'Hey man, where've you been? You look shit, let me get you a drink' he turned to the bar, and Brett realised that Ray had had a fair bit to drink already 'Barman, get my friend a Jack and Coke' He turned back to the blonde, whispering in her ear, making her giggle, running his hands up and down her back as he pulled her closer.
He picked the drink up of the bar and downed it, trying to gain some strength for what he was about to do from the burning alcohol.
'There've been bomb attacks in Chicago'
Ray pulled slightly away from the girl, still flirting with her with his eyes 'what do you want me to do about that? Are they that short of doctors you think I should go back?' He laughed at his own joke, before he buried his head against her neck, kissing his way down to her collarbone.
He sighed, turning slightly away before returning his focus to Ray, it didn't matter that he was drunk, he still need to know what happened 'No, not unless you're a surgeon these days'
Ray's hands stilled momentarily, the only sign that he'd heard his words.
He realised that his glass had been refilled and he reached for it with shaking hands, downing the dark brown liquid in one again 'Man, listen to me, it's Neela'
It was the blonde who pulled away at the mention of her name, not Ray 'Neela?'
Ray tried to pull her back against him 'No one special, just a colleague I used to work with' trying desperately to smooth over any jealousy that might have surfaced, but she ignored him.
Instead she turned to face Brett 'Dr Neela Rasgotra?'
Ray looked at her properly for the first time 'How do you?' his question faded away as he realised that neither she nor Brett was listening.
'Yeah, that's right, how do you know her?'
She laughed lightly 'I don't, I'm majoring in counter terrorism at law school, I've been following this story since it first broke, I feel like I'm on first name basis with all the victims. Has something happened?'
Trust Ray to hook up with an intellectual to boot, not just some dumb blonde. For a few seconds he let the noises of the bar absorb his thoughts, he didn't do emotions, his friendship with Ray had never really been about that, yeah, they were close and he'd do anything for him but he'd always thought of it in more of a bar room brawl sort of way, not like this. 'Yeah, they discharged the other two earlier, but Neela's condition's deteriorated, she's back in surgery' he paused as he wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead 'they say it's a life or death situation now' he was facing Ray again, watching his friends face turn pale as comprehension set in through the fog of alcohol, his arms falling from the girl's waist 'I'm sorry buddy, I know how you feel about her'
Again it was the blonde who replied, looking between Brett and Ray 'Wait a minute, you know her?'
'Yeah, Ray and Neela used to be roommates and they worked together, they were close' he'd never been sure how close, he'd had his ideas but Ray had never confirmed or denied them.
For the first time in many minutes Ray spoke, but it wasn't the Ray who'd been in the bar when he'd arrived, his whole demeanour had changed, gone was the cocky, arrogant, rock star and left standing in his place was the serious, caring, and at this moment, broken doctor. 'What are you talking about? What's happened to her? Where is she?'
She beat him to a response 'There've been half a dozen suicide bomb attacks on Chicago in the last few weeks, the first was at an antiwar rally, Neela was caught up in that one. Last I read she was at Cook County General and that her condition was stable, that's obviously changed though'
Ray turned on his heel and walked away before she'd finished her sentence.
She looked at Brett 'I'm not going to see him again, am I?'
He respected her honesty and returned it with his own 'No, you're not' and he followed Ray out the door.
Ray must have had impeccable timing with the elevators, as Brett exited the bar he watched the doors slide shut with his friend inside and no amount of impatient button pressing made it return any quicker.
When he reached their room he found the door ajar. He stood in the space taking in the chaos that had hit it, it hadn't been tidy by any means when they'd left, but the maid-turned-down covers were strewn with Ray's belongings as he grabbed, and stuffed, what he needed into a small holdall. It was evident that he would be leaving the majority of his stuff behind, but it was also clear to him that that didn't mean he was coming back, just that these things weren't anywhere near as important as getting to Neela was. He realised that Ray had become aware of his presence as he turned to face him with a sneer.
'How long have you known?'
Brett briefly considered lying, saying that he'd just found out, that would preserve the friendship that was so important to him, but he realised that he owed Ray more than that 'I saw it on the news this morning when I went down to breakfast'
He saw something snap in Ray's eyes and then his back was up against the wall, his hand tight against his neck as he forced him to meet his fury filled eyes. This was a version of his friend that he'd never met before and to be honest he was scared shitless.
'Why the fuck didn't you tell me then? You know how I feel about her' with his other hand he lashed out at the wall, denting the fragile plasterwork with his fist.
He tried to pull away, but quickly realised it was useless, Ray's anger had fuelled him with a previously unknown strength 'they said she was stable, I thought it could wait until after the gig' Ray gave him a querulous look 'hey man, you've not mentioned her once in the last four weeks, how was I meant to know that you still had feelings for her?'
Ray's hand pushed his head further against the wall and then he suddenly released him, turning his back on him 'I had to leave, I couldn't deal with what she was putting me through any longer, I love her so much, but' the fury had faded, in its place was the broken man he'd seen at the bar, and if he wasn't mistaken there were tears in his eyes as well 'but if anything happens to her' he raised his eyes to meet Brett's again 'and I wasn't with her, you will wish you were dead'
'Look, you'll never know how sorry I am, I thought it would be okay, this big producer was meant to be coming to the gig tonight, I didn't want anything to ruin that, I thought she'd be okay' Brett was desperately trying to claw back some vestige of their friendship, but the glare that Ray was sending his way told him to shut up.
Ray grabbed the holdall and stormed out the room with Brett following 'You think some potential record contract is more important than the woman I'm in love with, you think I'd put that before her, you need to get a grip on reality, I don't give a damn about any of that'
They were in the elevator by now, its slow descend filled a with a heavy silence. No words could repair their friendship now, maybe over time, if she survived, they'd be able to scrape it back together, but not tonight. He thought back to the night before, when they'd shared the elevator on the way to the gig, the laughing, the jokes, the banter, it had felt like the journey only took seconds, tonight it felt like hours.
He reached out an arm to stop Ray as he stepped out into the lobby 'I know you won't believe me, but I do care about her you know, let me know how she is, okay?' All he got in response was a curt nod, and his best friend strode away from him across the marble floor.
'Brett, dude, where've you been, I've been looking everywhere for you' the unmistakable voice of Bruno reaching him across the lobby 'that producer I was telling you about, loved it, absolutely loved you guys, he's talking mega money, top gigs, hotels like…' his voice trailed away as he spotted Ray purposively walking out the door 'where's Barnett going? He's hooked up with some bird right? He's coming back, yeah? Cause I have to tell you, he was the selling point, he was crazy about Barnett and how the fans went mad for him'
He looked at Bruno, the shiny tight suit, the ever present shades, the mock croc shoes, and the gelled hair, and he saw all his dreams go up in smoke, whatever happened Ray wouldn't be back, he'd blown it for all of them, he looked wistfully towards the door 'He's not coming back, his girl's in hospital, he's gone to be with her'
Bruno shook his head 'His girl? But what about all the grou…? Surely when you tell him about the deal he'll realise that's more important, he has to come back, this is the big time we're talking about, you need him, without him you're nothing'
That was it then 'We're nothing then' and he strode off to try and wipe out the memories of the last 24 hours at the bar. But he knew that it would take more alcohol than was available to make him forget what a mess he'd made of their friendship.