The hospital's disinfectant smell made me cough incessantly.
Before I could figure out how I ended up here, I saw Faye sitting by the bedside with red eyes.
My last memory was still on the film set, with everything in between a blur.
"Finally, you're awake." Faye handed me a glass of water, his hand shaking badly.
The attending physician walked in with a stack of test reports, hesitating to speak.
Finally, he said directly:
"Miss Grey, your current condition is very concerning. If we can't find a matching treatment plan within a month..."
I stared blankly at a stain on the ceiling.
A month, not too long, not too short.
Enough time to watch the premiere of Xavion's new movie.
"Come on, don't cry," I saw Faye was about to tear up again and joked with her,
"How much can you do in a month? I'll make a list."
Staying in the hospital was boring, so I insisted on being discharged.
It wasn't to save money—Xavion's check was for a substantial amount.