𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙒𝙀 𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙎𝙃𝙀𝘿 ↣ 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉

16. OUTSIDE

[ONE WEEK LATER]

Keenan did end up smashing her performance. She, as the leading lady, got a standing ovation both nights. There were no words to describe how proud all of us were of her.

Now, though, Keenan was realizing just how hard she had worked for the last two months.

She was sick.

And, if she was sick, that meant Karter wasn't feeling well, either. The problem was that Karter was too stubborn to admit it.

"Hungry?" I asked, sliding him a plate across the counter. He looked up at me and just... stared. "Buttercup, you alright?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. I nodded my head towards the plate. He had no appetite, but for the sake of appearing healthy he took a bite.

"I'm back," Louis said, walking through the door. He had gone to the store to get necessary provisions: Gatorade, 7-Up, ibuprofen and tylenol. "How're you feeling, champ?"

"I feel fine," Karter mumbled. His pale face and sad eyes told another story. He put his head on one of his hands like it was too heavy to hold up.

"Do you want some tylenol?" I asked. I walked around the island and sat beside him. I rubbed his back, scratching it softly.

"No, I'm good," he said.

His head slipped off of his hand, then. I reached out to grab his face while Louis pulled the plate of food out from under him.

"Sorry," he wheezed.

"You're alright," I said quickly. His head met the counter top. Louis came around and smoothed his hair back off of his forehead, before pressing his hand to it. He looked at me and shook his head.

"You feel warm," Louis murmured.

"It's because I'm smoking hot," Karter said. I scoffed and my lips pulled up a bit at the corners. He might have felt like shit, but he never missed the chance to crack a joke.

"I'll bring this up to Keenan," I said. I pulled away from Karter and went up on my tiptoes to whisper in Louis' ear. "See if you can get him to eat some ice chips or something to get his temperature down?"

"Okay, love," Louis said. He kissed my cheek while I grabbed the bag from the counter.

I carried it up to Keenan's room, where I knocked once before walking in. There, in a pile of blankets, was Keenan.

"Karter?" she asked softly.

"Mickey," I said, walking deeper into the room. I sat on the bed and looked down at her. I gingerly pressed my hand to her forehead and winced at the heat. "Sweetheart, you really can't have all of these blankets. You have a fever, and they're only bringing up your temperature."

"I'm cold," she mumbled, rolling to face me. Her hair was plastered to her forehead from sweat, but her teeth chattered to prove her point.

"Do you wanna take a shower?" I offered, pushing the hair out of her face. Her eyes closed and she leaned her head into my touch.