Generation 2, Chapter 5: "My death certificate was just signed"

A day after Aaron's concert and the attack on him afterwards, he's still laying in hospital, unconscious. Mentally, nothing is wrong with him - the doctors say he should come around at any time. But physically, there was quite some damage done. A few ribs of his are busted, he's got some bad marks on his face, and he might even have a mild concussion.

I don't care much for the in-depth explanation the doctor has. All I wanted to know was that Aaron will live.

Even with the fantastic news that Aaron will live floating around my head, I find myself leaning against a cupboard with my fists, trying to figure out why Aaron would have been attacked. What had he done that could be so awful? Sure, I don't know Aaron too well, but I know he's not a murderer or something.

"Eugh... Ack... Hmph... Oh, ma head... Hurts...," My head whips around as I hear mumbles emerging from Aaron's lips.

"Welcome back to the land of the living and the busted."

"This doesn't feel like living... This feels like another version of hell, but on Earth," Aaron complains as I walk past.

"Sorry," I sigh, "I'll go get the doctors so they'll give you some morphine for the pain."

"Nah, it's fine," he shrugs," I subscribe to a group where we don't mask our troubles with medication. Pain is just one of those troubles... But damn. It would be nice to have some pills. What the heck happened to me?"

Being incredibly stubborn, Aaron manages to get up from his bed and examine himself in front of the mirror.

"So you're saying I was attacked, huh?" Aaron asks, swaying his body from side to side to feel where the pain is at.

"Yup. You were beat up pretty badly. I was hoping you would shed some light on that, actually," I explain as I tidy up his bed.

"I wish I could," he sighs, then grimaces as the action causes him pain," but I can hardly remember anything. I remember going backstage to get a drink... And bam. Darkness."


"That's too bad," I shrug, but secretly, I ball up my fists. If only he could remember something, then the culprit could be put in jail.

Back at the reception, Janelle is waiting for the release papers of Aaron. Leaving Aaron to get dressed, I go to sit next to Janelle.

"Why so glum, chum?" she frowns.

"He doesn't remember anything of the attack. This is gonna be a hard case to solve."

"At least he's alive, right? That's all that matters right now."

Sure, he's alive, but what if the attacker comes back to finish what he started...? I want to say, but stop myself as a new person enters the room.

"Hola, amigas. Sorry I only got here now, but I was at the hairdresser to color my hair...again."

"Bridget?!" Janelle and I both gasp. Bridget's hair is a bright blue that matches her eye color, and coincidentally, her clothes.

I look over to Janelle with a smirk. "This is the chaos I have to live with everyday. A sister who just can't decide on a suitable hair color, and who listens to WAY to much Reggae music."

I throw up my hands in defense as I see Bridget wanting to retaliate, but a groan coming from behind a wall stops us all in our tracks. Aaron sluggishly enters, not looking happy at all.

"Why so glum, chum?" Janelle asks the same thing she asked me.

"Would you stop that!" I hush at her.

"Janelle, you really have to ask, even?" Aaron growls, and looks up with a face that shows no emotion.

"Oops, alrighty... I'm sorry," Janelle quickly apologizes, and whips out her phone to avoid talking any further. Bridget, with scared eyes, quickly sneaks out of the room.

"I have bad marks on my face, a couple of ribs are broken, my beard had to be shaven to avoid hair growing into my cuts, I'm wearing crappy hospital clothes, and worst of all... I have no hair gel."

I nearly laugh at the last remark, but contain after a mighty struggle. "So where are you gonna be staying? You certainly can't go back to your apartment. My guess is that the attacker would find you in your apartment and...finish the job."

"Who says the aim was to kill me? Maybe just scare me off? I don't know. All I know is that I have no where else to go that's safe."

"You could... Um, stay at my apartment," I suggest, and regret it - for God's sake, I'm dating his best friend! And here I'm casually inviting him to come and stay with me.

"Uh, ya sure about that? I mean I can book myself into some motel or something."

"Yeah, I'm sure. You'll probably have to struggle with Bridget for a spot on the couch, but she'll give up eventually." I fail to mention that she has a major crush on him and would happily give up her place after she has mulled it over. My phone buzzes, and I check the messages. Charlie <3 flashes up on the screen.

"Sorry, I gotta reply to this quickly," I apologize to Aaron and read the message in private.

I miss you. Come to the Art Gallery.

Only that. I don't reply back, deciding to just jump in my car and drive.

As I stop in front of the art gallery building, I notice Charlie patiently waiting at the staircase, probably playing some kind of game on his phone. When he notices me in the car, his face lights up. I feel my heart flutter inside my chest because of that small gesture.

"Hey there, gorgeous. I haven't seen you for quite a while," Charlie murmurs as I walk up to him, taking me into his arms.

"Oh, not too long ago. Just yesterday, actually," I laugh.

"Well, it felt like a decade."

Charlie leads the way into the building, allowing me some time to look around. Like my mother, I share an interest in the arts and finer things in life. Every painting and sculpture fascinates me, but one stands out from the rest. A painting of a man dancing with fire... An acrobat.

"Oh, that reminds me," I frown, turning towards Charlie, "you haven't visited Aaron yet."

"Visited? What do you mean? I saw him yesterday..."

"You don't know? Aaron was in the hospital. He was attacked last night after his concert."

"Oh my god...," the shock that comes across Charlie's face almost makes me regret telling him, but he had to find out sometime.

After a moment's sitting down and processing what he just heard, Charlie starts talking. "Last night I signed an agreement where Aaron could perform at the Sports stadium - his biggest gig yet. If Aaron finds out I did that, he'll protest and go through with it. But I won't allow it, not this time. Please, Kaylin, don't tell him about it. I want him to heal and rest."

"I won't," I agree. "Thank you, for not pushing him to perform. You're a really good friend to him."

"Of course. He's the closest thing I have to family here... I'll go visit him later today." I smile, and yet again, I forget to tell the truth - he won't be able to visit Aaron, seeing as he'll be crashing at my apartment. Under no circumstances can anyone else know about his whereabouts. Charlie may be his best friend, but even I won't trust that bond.

I later bid Charlie goodnight, and return home to find that Aaron has already made himself comfortable in the lounge.

"Oh, boy, I'm so gonna regret taking him in," muttering to myself, I grit my teeth, take a deep breath and walk over to him.

"Hey there, Kaylin. Uh, hope I'm not intruding, but Janelle told me I could come in." I had given the keys of my apartment to Janelle, as she had to come by and drop off some paperwork for me to sign. That didn't really give her the right to allow other people into my apartment, but I can't stay mad at Janelle for long.

"Ah well, you're here. I guess it doesn't matter how you got in or who let you into the house. I'm sorry I don't have any better accommodation. Just lie in a comfortable position so you don't hurt your ribs any further."

With some extra time on my hands, I start to re-organize my clothing drawer. I have way too many clothes, yet too little space to put them all. Just a littler after eight, I hear the door slam shut and some very angry footsteps walk around the apartment.

"Bridget," I sigh, and hesitantly put my ear to the door to eavesdrop on what she's doing, "she'll never be able to close a door softly."

"KAYLIN! You get your little booty in here or I'll... I'll... Oh, never mind, just get in here!" My baby sister yells with a screechy tone.

"What, what WHAT, Bridget? You're yelling so loud the neighbors will hear you!"

"What, you ask me? You never told me we would have a house guest! Where the hell am I supposed to sleep?" her voice's pitch grows higher and higher as she shouts at me. Spittle even escapes from her mouth.

"Bridget, calm down," I try to get her to a more ear friendly register, "This is my house, I can invite whoever and whatever I want to stay over, without asking permission. You're a guest, and as long as you're a guest, you play by my rules. Aaron is staying over for a few nights until he can find safer accommodation. Until then, you're probably gonna have to use the sleeping bag."

"You always pull that card," my sister stomps away from me and out of the apartment. A few seconds later, I hear the elevator's ding, and the metal doors closing. So much for sisterly love.

After some considerable time in the bathroom the next morning, making myself look appropriate for my house guest, I venture out to make breakfast. One thing stops me in my tracks though.

"Aaron, what on earth do you think you're doing?!" I yell out over the whir of the machine. Aaron, with all his injuries, is running like a madman on the treadmill.

"Um, I'm making good use of this treadmill. I have a couple of gigs scheduled, and I need to stay in shape for them," he awkwardly answers, stepping off of the machine.

"Really? How the hell do you manage to exercise while you have TWO broken ribs?" Angered, I nearly shout this out at him. I care about him, and I don't to see him injure himself any further.

"Oh, no worries. I took some pain pills - they're working wonders. So I'll be up and performing in a day or so."

"Good god, Aaron, you can't do THAT! For one, a few pain pills doesn't heal your broken ribs. If you're gonna continue doing crazy stunts, you'll puncture a lung, and die. Need I also remind you that there's a madman loose, hellbent on proving a point to the outside world that performers are stealing money?" In one fluid motion, I reach for the TV remote and turn it on, ushering Aaron towards the couch.

"-And that's it for the weather. Now for the headlines. There's a new plague terrorizing Starlight Shores, and there seems to be no cure. A new local criminal has emerged, referring to himself as 'The Raven'. Police have received a video tape where the mystery man unveils his plan of 'purging the evil of the town'. He has confessed that he intends to target only performers, as he believes they are stealing the money of good people, and also have no talent, making their way to fame by buying it. Whatever his motives, 'The Raven' has already targeted acrobat Eragon, and singer Tasha, making it clear that he isn't only targeting one gender. To all the people of Starlight Shores, watch out, as no one is safe from his wrath. Moving on to other news, there has been a power surge throughout the state, baffling-"

Hearing no further news on "The Raven", I turn the TV off.

"Do you see how serious it is? There is no way that you can go out to perform again."

"But what about you? You're also a performer," Aaron protests.

"Yes, I am, but I'm not well known, Aaron. I haven't even had a decent concert yet. I do have one tonight though, but that's not the point. You're famous, and "The Raven" recognizes that. That's probably who he's targeting."

"So what are you saying? I just lay around here and do nothing? That's definitely NOT who I am, Kaylin."

"I'm not saying you have to stay here all day," I interject, and wonder how I'll be able to salvage this situation, "Uh... You could go outside, but keep a low profile. Wear different clothes, I don't know. Just don't go and do crazy stuff, alright?"

"You're not my boss, Kaylin," grinds Aaron, closing himself off to arguing by folding his arms, "but I'll take your 'advice' and lay low. Only because I want to, not because you're ordering me to do it."

I sigh, muttering inaudible things to myself. Why is it that the men in my life are always so stubborn?

Just a few days ago, I had received a promotion in my singing career. Along with it I also gained a gig, where I'll be performing at the coffeehouse. That gig is tonight, and as I get ready, standing in front of the mirror doing my hair, I feel the nervousness in my legs - they won't stop shaking.

"Deep breaths, Kaylin," I hum to myself, "Just keep taking deep breaths..."

Within two hours, my hair is styled, my makeup is done, and I'm wearing my performing outfit.

Like the trusty friend that she is, Janelle is already waiting for me in the lounge, being the only one of my friends to actually be going to the concert with me.

"Thank you so so much, Janelle. You're like the sister I actually like. Bridget stormed off last night and I haven't seen her since... I'm not sure if I will see her again, to be honest."

"Hey, it's a pleasure to be here for you. You're the sister I never had!" Janelle smiles, and we share a hug.

"Did you paint that?" Janelle releases from the hug, and points to the canvas behind me.

"Nope, that was definitely not me. It wasn't here last night, so... It had to be Aaron that did it. I didn't know he was artistic!"

"Well, I wouldn't call that artistic," says Janelle, looking all the more doubtful, "But it IS a good start to be an artist."

It's a ten minute drive to the venue, and another half hour to get the stage set up. As I'm preparing, people start to arrive. I hadn't known that the gig was going to be advertised like this, so as more than one person arrives, I keep getting shocked.

"Okay, deep breaths, deep breaths...," I repeat to myself, trying very hard not to bite my lip.

"Hey Kay-Kay, no need to be nervous. We're all here for you!" I hear someone calling out. That someone is my sister.

"Bridget?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"I'm not the only one," she admits, and points to the person next to her.

"For a person that wears mostly dark clothing and does parlor tricks for an existence, your sister isn't so dumb. Hi there, Kaylin," Aaron smiles, waving as I finally notice him in the crowd.

"I am not dumb, and I don't do parlor tricks - they're really hard to master, you know!" Bridget argues with him, but Aaron only waves his hand in dismissal.

"It's time to start, Miss Webster," one of the stage man announce, actually using the fake surname that I came up with. The sound of it stuns me for a second, and I struggle to relax again.

"O-Okay, I'm ready," I reply, even though I'm far from ready.

Having a real country sounding voice, seeing as I come from a suburb where country accents are common, I decide to perform a few country songs for the evening. The starting song is "Ever Ever After" by Carrie Underwood.

Ever ever after

Storybook endings

Fairy tales do come true

Deep down inside

We wanna believe they still do

In our secretest heart

It's our favorite part of the story

Let's just admit we all wanna make it to

Ever ever after

If we just don't get it our way

Ever ever after

It may only be a wish away

Song after song I go through, and with each new song, the tension starts to leave my body in waves. The finale of my show is something special, a song by Miranda Lambert called "Over You". When I first saw the music video, it had moved me to tears, so I thought it would be nice to share it with the audience.

Weatherman said it's gonna snow

By now I should be used to the cold

Mid-February shouldn't be so scary

It was only December, I still remember

The plants, the tree, you and me

But you went away

How dare you

I miss you

They say I'll be okay

But I'm not going to ever get over you

Living alone here in this place

I think of you and I'm not afraid

Your favorite records make me feel better

Cause you sing along with every song

I know you didn't mean to give them to me

But you went away

How dare you

I miss you

They say I'll be okay

But I'm not going to ever get over you

It really sinks in, you know, when I see it in stone

Cause you went away

How dare you

I miss you

They say I'll be away

But I'm not going to ever get over you

With traces of tears streaming down my cheeks, I bow quickly to my crowd, blowing a few kisses in the process, and make my way off stage to get a tissue. I end up needing more than one tissue.

"Can we request more? It was so good!" an audience member shouts out.

"Yeah, totally, and I never got this move!" Janelle joins in with protesting, swinging her arms back and forth to show what she wanted to do.

"Sorry, but this show is over," I shrug, genuinely sad to tell them that, "but thank you so much for coming, everyone!"

The girls suggest that we go to a dance club to celebrate the night's success, and I agree without much protest.

"It's just a block away, so we can walk there. And no, Bridget, you're not gonna die by walking a little. The bloody world does no revolve around cars, you know!" says Janelle as we start walking down the pavement. The club's parking lot is packed full with cars, which means the party will be even more fun than usual.

"Uh, I don't want to disturb you two, but... Look over there. There's a guy beating up another guy... Should we do something?" Bridget hesitantly asks, stopping in her steps.

My breath gets stuck in my throat as I watch the scene before me unfold. It's not so much just the fighting, but the people that are fighting. I recognize the normal looking man as Reid Williams, a paparazzi who is always taking photos of the most glamorous celebrities. And the other... It's "The Raven", the funny green haired man who's out on a mission.

Reid's poor body is flung through the sky as "The Raven" delivers a mighty kick. The poor man never had a chance.

"I'm gonna move closer to get a better look...," Bridget suddenly announces in a whisper, and starts to sneak in under a car.

"Bridget!" I want to yell, but fear attracting the attention of the madman. Without a second thought, I rush after my baby sister, with Janelle on my heels.

He saw us, there's no doubt about that.  In that short moment, we also recognize some red highlights mixed in with the green hair. And in that moment of eye contact, I felt as if my death certificate was just signed. The look of pure hatred on his face is astonishing. 

I was definitely going to be next on his hit list.

~♥~

For anyone wondering, here is one of the songs Kaylin "performed".