Little Things #36

Everything happened so fast.

All I know was that H was trying to stop Z, whose anger was triggered by some of the “fans” that were hurling insults at them. They were already inside a private room inside the airport, pulled back by the security until all the fans have been cleared out. By the insults I heard, they weren’t fans of H’s band—they were fans of the rival band that was flying together with H’s band.

I hadn’t come out with the band yet—I stayed behind with the band’s stylist, CF, her fiancé TT, and their cute little daughter, who, for the lack of the letters in the alphabet that can correspond to the number of characters in this story, shall be called Lil. Lil is the cutest and most perceptive baby ever. At one, she has already traveled to countries far more than I have at my age, as CF brings her and TT while she’s on tour with the band.

Anyway, a very angry Z was brought into the room where I was waiting along with CF’s family, restrained by R and a couple more security. R was really angry—“I know that they pissed you off, but they’re still fans, and you shouldn’t engage them—”

THEY WERE CALLING US NAMES, R! And they’re insulting my religion!” Z raged, pushing and shoving R, who wouldn’t budge. I didn’t hear what the fans had said, but I know Z has had it enough when his religion was the one that is being targeted. He had, in fact, quit Twitter a few years back because of the insults he got there. H was the first one to rush and stop Z, but Z just turned on him, channeling his rage towards him.  

“You never got the brunt of this—” Z started, pushing H hard, so much so that he backed up a few steps. T and L, the more sensible ones, got into the middle of things, and I rushed towards H and checked if he was okay.

“What do you mean by that, huh?” H said, now also riled up, and I touched his arm but he brushed it away. He stood up, with L blocking his way but he still reached Z. L and T weren’t enough buffers—

“You are the most liked member. You are the cutest, the most handsome, the—“

“Shut up, Z,” T cut in but Z didn’t listen. He just kept on and on about H being the perfect member, and I think it was a bit too much for H to hear. He threw the first punch, just to put Z in place, but it was the punch that set off the chaos.

I managed to get to H before Z did, but due to all the arms and bodies that were trying to stop them, they were already oblivious to who was going to hit who. I saw the punch before I felt it graze my cheek, but I didn’t mind, just pushed H with all my might until we hit the wall.

“STOP IT,” I said firmly, and he was still fighting against my grip.

“IT’S NOT LIKE I WANTED THAT, Z! AND DON’T YOU THINK THAT DOESN’T PUT ANY SHITTY PRESSURE ON ME?” H was shouting, and I couldn’t restrain him any longer, as he was so much stronger than I was. He was lean, but he was strong. And I think he was just blinded by the rage, so much so that he pushed me away and I landed on the floor, and I yelped, my tailbone connecting with the cold marble.

“K!” CF’s voice sailed over the man hormones and shouts, effectively silencing everyone. H turned, looking for me, but had to look down because I was there, my eyes filled with tears as I doubled over. I muttered curses under my breath, seriously just wanting to disappear as the pain was blindingly intense.

Jesus, you guys need to grow up!” CF was being all motherly, and she didn’t need to push anyone out of the way get to me because they parted for her like the sea. She placed her hand on my shoulder, but I just gasped, and she drew back.

“K.”

It was H, his breathing labored. He knelt beside me, and I gritted my teeth, facing him, and something about my face or my reaction made him gasp. If I was looking bad, he wasn’t doing any better—his lip was cut, his cheek was bleeding, and his hair was crazier than ever.

“I don’t like fights,” I said through my teeth, angry. “I never liked violence. I skipped town because of that.”

His face grew soft, and he reached out and touched my cheek. I winced—that was probably the cut I got from the earlier punch that was thrown. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his hand transferring to my hair. The pain was still there, shooting up and down my spine, and I closed my eyes.

“I just want to go home,” I told him, and I heard some shuffles. When I opened my eyes, L, N, Z, and T weren’t in the room anymore. R was standing at the door, and he beckoned H over. “An ambulance is waiting for K,” R said, and I shook my head.

“No, no… come on. No hospitals. This is just going to blow up things.”

CF, who makes sense of all things, did the same thing here. “You fell pretty badly, K. We need you checked.”

I sighed deeply, and CF asked me if could stand, but the pain just shot up again when I tried to. “Yeah, definitely hospital,” CF said, and H moved behind me, and I leaned against him. A few minutes later, paramedics came, and I was placed on a gurney.

I wonder how their management would put a spin on this one.

 —

“Well, no Mexico tour for me.”

The doctor just left after laying out the verdict that I have indeed fractured my tailbone (scientific name: coccyx—it’s one of those words that give you a very nice visual when you read it), rendering me a bit immobile for a couple of weeks to let the bone heal. I can’t sit on my bum for a long time, and they’ve given me some painkillers to ease the ache.

H said that upon inspection, there’s already a bruise around that area.

“I’m so, so sorry,” H said, taking my hand in his. His right cheek was swollen, and he had sustained a black eye on his right side—was that fight that long? How many punches were thrown? I felt my cheek and there was a bandage on my cut there. If I tally my injuries, I think one was caused by Z, and the other was by H.

I was lying on the bed on my side, because my butt is still painful. H had just come in just as the doctor did—CF, who stayed with me the whole time, said the management had talked to them for quite some time to fix things and come up with stuff to tell the media.

“I know they have issues,” CF said, as they wheeled me into the x-ray room. “But I didn’t know that it had already run that deep. I think Z got tired being treated the bad guy.”

“I thought he liked that image,” I said, and CF just sighed. “Z and H are pretty close, I think they can settle this one.”

“Oh they would have to. It’s just some kind of sibling rivalry shit.”

I nodded. “I think they have to go back to the house in the woods. They haven’t been back there since forever.”

CF smiled, liking that suggestion. “I’ll bring that up with the boys,” she said, just before the radiologist shooed her away for my x-ray.

I reached for my bag that was at the bedside table and H helped, placing it on the bed. I rummaged through it and found what I was looking for, and handed it to him. He stared at it for a moment, and he nodded, getting what I meant. “Please. Even just for a day. You guys are the best band of brothers I’ve ever seen, and if you have issues, please talk about it and not settle it with a physical fight,” I said weakly.

Before H could answer, there was a knock on the door, and H looked up. He nodded for whoever it was to enter, and I heard the footsteps of the person. I waited for them to come around to the side that I was facing, and the first thing I saw was the bouquet of hyacinth.

I looked up and saw Z, who was wearing the most apologetic smile on his face coupled with his innocent pair of eyes. They were innocent now, but they weren’t during the fight last night.

“Smart. You did your research. Hyacinths are the flowers that represent apology,” I said, accepting the flowers. H stood up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, making we wince when he did. He was tinkering with his phone and I wondered who he was texting.

Z took the seat that H vacated. He reached out and held my hand, and I gave his hand in mine a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “Z, it’s okay,” I whispered. “I already told H what I needed you guys to do, so…”

Z turned to H, who just nodded beside me. “I already gathered the boys. We’ll be at the house in the woods for a couple of days.” H held his fist towards Z, and I watched as their bruised and cut fists collided in a fist bump.

“To talk, hopefully, and not throw punches at each other all over again,” I interjected, smiling at this semi-reunion. They both turned to me, and Z stood up. He leaned down, kissing me on the cheek, and then H followed the same suit, only his kiss was on my lips.

“CF will be here with Lil to watch you,” H said, and I nodded. “You,” he said, turning to Z, “I’ll take you home and you go pack your stuff. The other boys are on their way to the house already.”

Z was already exiting, saying he’s sorry one time, and H lingered. He never lingers, but he did this time, just gazing at me. “It’s not going to happen again, K, I promise. I never lose myself in anger, but I guess that day…” His voice trailed. “I am not going to offer any excuses. It shouldn’t have happened. You’ve been through this before with your ex—”

I shook my head, giving him The Eye. “I do know you’re miles away from my ex, H. You’re not him, and you’re never gonna be him,” I assured him. He nodded, as if doubting me, and I pressed on, “H, he’s a sick guy. Mental. You’re a bit quirky at times, but you’re not mental enough.” He gave me a ghost of a smile, and then gave me a flying kiss and was out of the door.

I sighed, wanting to just lie down properly, but my back won’t let me.

Right. The hazards of being a boyband member’s girlfriend trapped in a testosterone-filled fight.

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