Bryce's P.O.V.

A splash of orange engulfed me into a world of color and unsettling commotion. Bright blues, vibrant reds, and lively yellows dotted my splotchy vision. The people I heard, speaking around me, hit my eardrums like waves against a shoreline -waning and waxing, and then reemerging at a piercing volume.

I couldn't sift through the orchestra of voices that played inharmoniously into my ears. They melded together as one continuous string of music, pulsing with the blossoming hues behind my eyelids.

Pain sprouted from the base of my back, spreading fast up to my shoulders. The vibrant shades dulled into a deathly black while the ache intensified in my arm.

The tireless ruckus sheltered in my mind hushed into selective strands of sound - making it much easier to decipher them. There were short snippets that I caught on to.

"He was okay last night -"

"Did you call his mother and-"

"No, I can't. She wouldn't care. I did call -wait. He's waking up."

The dark tent at the edges of my vision faded, abandoning the bleakness, and absorbing the colors of my setting. The sight was blurry, distorted. I readjusted my eyes on the shadow that leaned over me.

"How are you?" Kelsey hovered at the end of my bed. She didn't get close. "You look better."

I patted the spot below my shoulder where the stinging pain originated from. A wide, blood-stained bandaged wrapped my bicep. "You sure I look better?" Shivers shot to my toes as I raised into a sitting position. "Where am I? What went down, Conner?"

Conner backed off the railing and pushed his knuckles up to his lips. He briefly glanced at Kelsey. She silently nodded and exited the room, understanding what that look meant. "How much do you remember?"

"Not much. I remember...driving to the spot," I said, groggily. "Then there was a girl...and that's where things start to get fuzzy."

"The girl's name is Audrey," he filled in. "Her crew broke in and sucked us dry of all our stuff. I got a few of her guys and so did you."

"Is she dead?"

"Nah." He sighed, studying the floor. "She got away. The gun I took from one of her guys didn't have that many bullets. When she heard the empty click, she elbowed me in the nose and ran away. I heard their car drive off a little while after."

Perfect. Another enemy.

"Where am I?" I asked again, rubbing my face from its sleepiness. "You didn't say."

"You were bleeding bad." He continued. "I didn't have much of a choice. I know you hate it, but I had to. You're in a hospital."

"Why the hell would you take me to a hospital?" I raged, clinching the sky-blue bedsheets. "I don't care if I was dying. What did I tell you, Conner? Don't, under any circumstance, take me to a hospital."

I had so many police department heads, itching to pin something on me. They didn't have any dirt on me, so for the most part, I walked out clean of any crimes. Back in New York, dad's well-trained lawyers defended me when things went far enough to reach the court system. I was safe...until they stopped defending me.

"I gave them my name, my information. I said you were Conner Blackwell and that I was your brother." He whispered. "I didn't give them your name. They won't know you were even here. Trust me."

"And what did you say? That I accidently shot myself?" I fumed. "Cops are probably crawling all over the scene, counting bodies and trying to connect the dots. They're going to find out."

"Audrey and her crew took everything. They aren't going to find anything. Don't sweat it."

I sprang up right, no longer slouching. "This is supposed to be good news?" Anger wavered into my voice, holding back every urge to scream at him. "In what way would this be good news? We lost a lot of money."

"It's good news. They don't have evidence against you if they do connect us to the scene and-"

"Shut-up. Just shut the hell up. Where are my clothes? We're leaving. Right now," I announced. "I'm not staying here any longer."

Conner held me back. "You're not leaving. You're still hurt. You'll bust your stitches open if you start moving around like that. Relax."

I shoved him, hard. "You don't tell me what to do. Ever."

Conner whipped his head around at the sound of the door opening, ready to tell whoever it was to leave us alone. His mouth stayed open as two police officers waltzed in casually, trailing in after a doctor in an obnoxiously white lab coat that was unnerving to my eyes.

"Ah, he's awake." The female doctor chirped, placing the clipboard to the side and flashed a gleeful smile to the cops. "I'll ask him a couple of questions, and then you men can carry on with your own."

They didn't object to her words. I lied on to my right arm, using my elbow to prop myself up to one side. Setting the clipboard at the end of my bed, she brought out her mini flashlight and flickered it into my eyes, asking me to follow her finger. After finishing the routine checkup, she took out her pen and returned to her clipboard.

"Let's begin. I understand your brother here said you hit your head after getting shot. I'll ask you a couple of questions to make sure you know where you are."

"In a hospital..."

"What's your name?"

"Conner Blackwell," I said without hesitation.

I responded to her set of questions. They varied from what year was I in, who our current president was, and if I knew which state I was in.

1993.

President Clinton.

The State of California.

The only strange question she asked was when she said to write my name in the air with my finger. I told her I couldn't because of the condition my writing-arm was in.

I hit a stump in the road when she asked how I got shot.

"It was on accident." I said. "I forgot to put the safety on."

"So you pulled the trigger?" One of the deputies inquired.

"Yes," I nodded.

"That's interesting. Most people shoot with their dominate hand." He gestured to my wounded arm. "Which, for you, is the one that got shot."

I stifled a laugh. "I suppose that means I'm a unique breed."

"That could be the case, or you could be skipping out on telling us how you got that bullet in you." The other officer concluded, taking his hand up to his hat and removing it from his head. His cheeks were flushed, brushed by the brutal California sun. Light caught the corner of his name tag. I read the name Officer Monroe beam at me on a mock-gold plate.

His lips perched to the side. "Conner, I'd like for you to take this seriously."

"I am," I leered at him questionably. "I've answered the question. I told you how I got harmed the other night. It was an accident. I forgot to put the safety on, and now, I'm here in a hospital being criminalized for what? For being careless? That's highly unprofessional, Officer."

He shifted in his shoes. "There's a chunk of information I feel you aren't telling us. Let's backtrack a little and see where you were last night. Where were you during this accidental shooting?"

"I was out in the Valley with my friends."

"I can vouch that he was there. I was there, too," Conner coined in.

"Huh, is that so? That's odd you said that. Because I have witnesses that say they saw you, along with two men and four females, exit a building on Flower street." Officer Monroe revealed. "We received countless 9-1-1 calls last night at that exact location, talking about how they heard shooting and cars speeding. That building is only four miles from this hospital." He turned to Conner, deadpanning him with little to no mercy behind his gaze. "Now, would either of you like to tell me what really happened last night?"

"I shot myself on accident. I was in the valley, with my friends. Like I said before, Officer," I reiterated, slower this time. "That's what happened."

The Officer behind him jotted down my words into a notepad. "Nothing else?"

"Nothing else," I echoed him. "There's not much else I can say. It's plain and simple."

He put the cap on his pen and tucked the notepad under his arm. Their parting words were that if they had any more questions for me, they would contact me. The doctor left with them, shutting the door. It didn't stay shut for long. Kelsey sprinted in after them.

"Wh-what did they want?" she stuttered, running to Conner. She wrapped her arms around his waist, sliding her arms into his jacket. "I was going to come back, but they had a guy outside guarding the door. What were they saying?"

"They were asking about his accident." Conner told her. "They said they saw us at -"

I coughed loudly.

"We'll be fine," Conner continued, flickering his gaze to me. "They do this with everyone who gets stabbed or shot."

"No, they don't. You're saying that to put my mind at ease."

He flashed a dimple. "Is it working?"

"Maybe." She sighed, putting her head to his chest. "What are we going to do?"

"First, I can't go home for a while. We need to do a couple of things before I know for sure what they've got on us. Second, we need to leave this hospital. Now. Let's go," I emphasized. "Where's my clothes? I'm not leaving this place in a hospital gown."

"We can't leave. I called Sophia and I think she might come."

I squinted at her. "Why?"

"Yeah. Why would you call her?" Conner asked.

That isn't necessarily what I was going to ask.

"I don't know. You called me, and I called Tonya," she said, referring to Anthony's girlfriend of two months. "I didn't know who I was supposed to call for Bryce, so I thought I should call her."

"Why would you call his one-night-stand? I don't get that."

"They never slept together," Kelsey corrected him. "They're friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. That reminds me, you owe me fifty bucks."

She rubbed her fingers together and he brought out his wallet.

"Can you guys do that later?" I snarled. "There's more important things at hand-like where are my pants?"

"Oh, right. Sorry about that. I have them." He walked behind the curtain and went to the corner of the room. He flung a translucent plastic bag at me with my clothes in it. "Your shirt was ripped off by the doctors and they tossed it out. I threw out your jacket and brought some stuff from your place. Your shoes are next to the bed."

I unknotted the bag and pulled out the clothes, pausing when I saw Conner and Kelsey there. "Do you want a strip show or something?"

Kelsey laughed. "Please. No one would ever pay to see you naked. If anything, they should be paid afterwards for emotional damages."

"That's enough, Kels. The guy already got shot down, literally with a gun and figuratively by Sophia. No need to add salt to the wound." Conner took Kelsey's hand, exiting out of the room.

I wish they would've stuck around for a minute more. They stormed off without hearing my rebuttal. Sophia didn't shoot me down. She had, however, rejected my advances because of how straight-forward they were. It was that, or she wasn't interested after what went down with Remy at his lake house party.

You were rejected.

Had I taken a different approach, the outcome wouldn't be the same. I repeated that to myself as I got dressed, peeling off the hospital gown and pushing my legs into my pants.

You were rejected.

Carefully, put my arm through the sleeves of the bulky herringbone trench coat. My shoes were the last step. I laced up them up and straightened the coat, thinking of the lingering words that were glued in my head about being rejected.

"No." I scoffed. "I wasn't."

I swung the door open and went to where Conner and Kelsey were, sticking their tongues down each other's throats like animals.

I coughed. "Don't you guys get tired of each other? It's annoying."

Kelsey reeled back, fluttering her eyes open. "At least I have someone."

"Kels..." Conner trailed off. "Any other day, just not today."

She pouted, sticking her lower lip out. "Okay. I'll shut up."

"I didn't mean it like that," he frowned, meeting his forehead with hers.

"Oh, God." I groaned and stared up at the ceiling. "Why did you let me live?"

Kelsey squealed. "You should tell him."

"In the car." He promised. "We have to get going."

I wasn't going to question her to see what she was freaking-out about. Kelsey's squeals didn't lead to good things. Putting her at bay was a nice choice done by Conner.

I skipped signing the release papers and slipped out, rushing to the parking lot. Conner drove us in his car. The sun was out today, beating down us relentlessly on Conner's leather car seats.

Kelsey bounced up in the passenger seat and hit Conner's arm. "Can I tell him?"

"He won't agree to it." His lips lifted into a slanted smile. "Go ahead and try."

She twisted in her seat. "I didn't say this before because it wasn't relevant at the time, but when Conner and I were in the hallway, I brought up how Grayson's party got canceled since you got shot."

I drifted my attention to the window. "I don't care. Turn back around-"

"Anyway, like I was saying," she huffed, ignoring my request. "The party is canceled. I started to tell Conner how I wanted to do something tonight."

"Congratulations. Do something with each other."

"You're not letting me finish. I was going to suggest us going to the carnival near the beach. I did a few calls and most of our friends are cool with the idea. Grayson, Anthony, Tonya, and a couple of other people are going."

"Babe, I told you he wouldn't be into it."

"We can go." I said, against better judgement.

"Yes!" she yelped, clapping her hands.

Conner looked at me from the rear-view mirror. "Man, you don't have to. You got hurt."

"No, I want to go." I supplied.

"Told you," Kelsey said in a sing-song voice. When she didn't think I was listening, she whispered, "Sophia's going to be there."

Everything seemed clearer. The call to Sophia, the insults, the kissing in the hallway, and now this. It all added up. She was being the Match-Maker from Hell again. I'd just been played. I should've been infuriated, mad at least. But I wasn't - not in the slightest bit.

Maybe this time I wouldn't be rejected.

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A/N: Ahhh. What do you think will happen next? I don't know - actually, yeah I do. But let's act as if I don't :P

Please don't forget to vote and comment your thoughts.