Maddy's P.O.V.

The hospital room is as devoid of beauty as I am of hope. Its walls are simply cream, not peeling or dirty, just cream. There is no decoration at all save the limp curtain that can separate my bed from the three others in here. It was perhaps once the kind of green that reminds people of springtime and hope, but it's faded so much that the hue is insipid. The room as an undertone of bleach and the floor is simply gray. At the far end are windows in brown metal frames, only openable at the top. Not a single person has flowers, cards or home brought food. They are sleeping to pass the time or staring at nothing at all. There are stands for intravenous drips and monitors. At the door are dispensers for rubber gloves, hand sanitizer, and soap. These items only reinforce my fear of germs, they are so ubiquitous here that cleaning is mandatory every time a doorway is passed or a patient is touched. But maybe the nurses will forget, or not wash properly, then what? I get sicker? The curtain opened slowly. 

A doctor walked in with a face like a brick. His movements were all sharp and with purpose, he analyzed a clipboard at the edge of my bed for a few seconds and looked up with a perfunctory smile flashed for just a moment. Behind the gun-metal spectacles, his eyes were as gray as the washed-out bed sheets and the lines around his mouth gave no indication that he ever lost himself in laughter. 

"Madrious Pertle, it's nice to meet you." Likewise. Without introducing myself, I retorted with strong words. 

"I want to leave. I have better things to do than sitting here. Where is my security guard? I was supposed to be signed out today." The doctor ignored me. 

"I am your personal doctor, Dr. Klaus Heins. I'm sorry to inform you that you are not able to leave...yet." Even with his hard face, his voice shook slightly. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Your vocal chords seem to be strained. The alcohol poisoning caused your throat to develop an infection. I recommended taking a break from your musical group until it has fully healed."

Now that he mentioned it, my throat seemed very dry. Swallowing seemed harder than necessary. There was pain in my neck and ears. He was telling the truth. 

"How long is it going to take to fix this?" I questioned, trying not to raise my voice.

"Depends on how good your immune system works." I moved a little in the hospital bed, trying to get a better view of Dr. Heins. "Why do I have to be hospitalized for a throat infection?" He grabbed the clipboard at the foot of my bed, placing it in front of me. "You have Lupus." 

Waves of heat coursed through my blood, a cold sweat glistened in my gaunt features. My eyes were sunken and my skin felt hot, everything ached, everything sagged. The glass of water stared at me from the bedside table, so I took a sip and plopped back onto my pillow. I wish I didn't listen to Luke.

*Lupus is an inflammatory disease caused when the immune system attacks its own tissues. Common symptoms are muscle pain, hair loss, butterfly rash, fatigue, anemia, and fever.*

♪♪♪

Jackson's P.O.V.

The hospital hallway was like something out of Star Trek. Everything that could shine, did shine. There was stainless steel, sleek floors and the art on the walls were all natural images in colors as bright as glacier melt-water or spring flowers. The air had a pure fragrance, not sterile, just clean. In the background played music at just the right level to give the patients and staff an emotional lift. But the best part was the ceiling, just clear and high arched. It was like standing out in the open without the risk of rain. 

Despite the fascinating colors, I managed to find Maddy's room. There were a few thin curtains clinging to the ceiling. A man stood next to one of them, pestering one of the patients. Once I realized it was Maddy, I started cracking up. 

"Maddy, my man! What's wrong with you?" He seemed upset. His face was sunken a little and there were red spots on his face. It almost looked like a butterfly. 

The doctor turned to me with a stone cold face. "Who are you might I ask?"

"Marice, his brother. Mom dropped me off a few minutes ago to check on him." The doctor nodded, moving aside. "I'll you to it," he said. 

"Maddy, you look like Luke's sloppy left-overs. Those girls are UGG-GAAA-LLYY!" Maddy tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach his lips. 

"Well...it's time to go. The album isn't going to drop by itself. I've been trying to call Luke, but he isn't picking up his phone. Maybe  I should call the manager-" As I rambled on, Maddy remained quite. He looked kinda stiff.

"Dude, what's up? You just have alcohol poisoning. Your throat should heal in a few days. A week at best."

"I have Lupus" he croaked. He sounded like an old man. 

"You got tulips? That's nothing to be upset about. I wanted a few maples leaves for some homemade syrup, but I'm not complaining." Maddy frowned and grabbed my face. He put his lips near and whispered. "Lupus."

I leaned on his bed, looking at his face. "What does that mean?" A small trickle of blood went down from Maddy's nose and plopped on the cream-colored blanket. We both stared at it. "It means I'm not leaving anytime sooner."