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Alana
Ithinkthatbythe time I actually got out of the elevator, I could barely breathe.
I've never been claustrophobic - at least I didn't think so - but being in the elevator, not knowing if I was going to get out, it made everything so much worse.
I really thought that we were going to die in there. Not that that would make much sense, of course we were going to be rescued. It was just a random earthquake. It’s not like anyone targeted us.
It was just a random freak accident.
I hug myself, my arms tight.
I don't want to be by myself. I appreciated the idea of different rooms for everybody in the band when we first got here, but right now I really wish that Devon hadn't splurged. I really wish that we were bunking in somebody's house like we did when Johnny Baskets was just starting out. Instead, I had to go to the seventh floor to go to my room, to what feels like one of the most isolated and weirdest places I’ve ever been to.
I’m still not used to it.
My mouth dries as I think about it.
Dom and Javi are standing by me, talking to each other in Spanish. Normally, I would be paying attention to what they’re saying, but right now, I just don’t have it in me.
They’re mostly ignoring me, every now and then sneaking a look toward me.
I take a deep breath as my grip tightens around my chest, my head pounding. At this point, I’m never going to get rid of this headache.
I wonder if I should just walk past them, go back to my room and try to forget about it all. The dress’ fabric feels like paper mache against my skin and my hands are shaking slightly.
I’m not wearing any fucking shoes, either. This floor has to be filthy.
It’s too hard to be around people right now. I can’t fucking be here.
I rub my temple, my head pounding. I guess I didn't realize how upset I was. Fuck it.
I strut to my room, but as I do, Javi reaches out and circles his fingers around my forearm, gripping me softly. His skin is soft and warm, enough to startle me. I look up at him and have to choke back tears.
I tell myself to get a grip. This is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous. I look at him with tear-filled eyes, though, and I know he can see right through me.
"Alana," he says softly, his gaze glued to mine. His pupils expand in his dark brown eyes and he tilts his head, his lips parted. Fuck, he’s hot. I wish he wasn’t seeing me like this, make-up smeared all over my face and my dress all crumbled up. "You okay?"
I stop to look at him. There is dirt and I think a few scratches on his face, and the shirt he’s wearing is covered in dust. It’s obscuring the word on it. He doesn’t look anything like how he did the first time I met him. It's weird to me that he's worried about how I'm doing when he's clearly affected too, considering how immaculately his appearance is kept.
I nod. "Yeah, I’m okay."
He looks me up and down, but he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. "Good for you," he says. “To be honest, I'm not. I'm really shaken.”
“You are?”
“It was pretty nerve wracking,” he says. “Not knowing where you were. And then finding you in the elevator…”
His fists clench at his sides, the muscles in his arms popping. “I mean, you got lucky. What if I hadn’t found you?”
I try to swallow down the knot in my throat. What if he hadn’t? What even prompted him to look for me? I want to ask, but it feels like my words are all stuck in my throat and I can’t get any of them out.
He closes the space between us, taking my hand in his. He tilts his head down to look into my eyes, his lips parted. I can see the ridges of his lips, the way his skin is taut around his high cheekbones.
He could ask me for anything right now and I’m pretty sure I would do it.
I think he’s going to tell me to go back to my room and get some rest, but he drops his voice instead. “How about you come back to my room and we debrief?”
Dom looks at me for a second, like he’s asking me what I think with just his eyes. After what we’ve been through tonight, I don’t really want him to feel like I’ve abandoned him.
