Intertwined - Tangled series (Overprotective famous brothers)

Painful Smiles

Salman

I was in the makeup room, the guy getting something called pancake on me. It was ridiculous to be covered with makeup for my work, but it was the price one had to pay to be an actor. I was chatting with my manager about the schedule for the next few days when a call interrupted us,

“Hey Tyson, everything fine?” I asked, out of habit. He called up every day to fill me in on the details simply because I hated to be left out of the loop.

“No, come to Sydney ASAP. Alisha’s injured herself.” He spoke in a grave tone, and I immediately launched up in my chair. The makeup artist stumbled back and Cassie asked him to leave, sensing something was wrong.

“What? Give her the phone.”

“Yeah, I cannot. She’s unconscious.”

My sister was unconscious and probably on her way to the hospital. I felt panic surge through me as I walked up and down the room, trying to think straight. I had to be there, no matter what.

“Tell the director it’s a family emergency, and I’m leaving. Book the next flight out for Sydney, I don’t care if we get coach. And check if she has everything, the best doctors and all the facilities.” I ordered Cassie, getting into the car with Sean. She was quick at her job, because by the time we reached the Malaysian airport, we already had tickets for five people from the staff, me and Cassie. The rest would have to follow us there later, but I didn’t care about not having a personal dietician right now. All I needed to do was get to my baby sister.

“Arbaaz?” I picked up his call before the security check. People were surprised to see me here, in the queue meant for passengers travelling coach in a no frill airline. They clicked photos and asked for a minute or two, but I didn’t bother to reply. Only if they knew where I had to go.

“Yeah, I’m on my way. Even Sohail is leaving ASAP, and Malaika is already on a flight. We left Arhaan at Malaika’s sister’s place.”

It made sense to not let Arhaan see his aunt in a hospital, and let him be back in Mumbai. A wave of guilt passed through me, as I thought about Pixie. She must be in the hospital now, and must need her brothers with her. But she had none of us by her side, telling her that it’d be fine, that the pain would go away. We should have been with her, at least one of us should have. I shook the thought away and thought of one of the lessons I had learned- to prioritize.

“Ok, call me when you reach.” I cut the call and immediately called Tyson.

“How is she?” I inquired the moment he picked up the phone on the first two rings.

“Stable. She’s in no danger, but she’s still unconscious.” Her not being in any immediate danger was a relief, something positive around here. She not being conscious concerned me though; it never meant good news for her.

“Dimitri’s in there with her now, he said he’d be happy to be here till someone out of you reached. And I’ll be here too.” I thanked him and cut the call, finally going through the metal detector. No, I wasn’t carrying bombs; I just needed to see my sister. But then I couldn’t tell the authorities that, instead I stayed silent and let them do their job.

By the time I had reached Sydney the whole of twitter knew, and my mentions were bombarded with concerns about her. There was a worldwide trending topic saying #PrayForLizzie, which made my lips twitch into something that looked remotely like a smile. I read the cover story by E! Online, who claimed to be there when she got hurt.

It said that Lizzie tried to save a paparazzo- who was on the floor when she was tumbling- from getting hurt. In that process she didn’t complete the turn and fell down on her head, and went unconscious minutes after the fall. The paparazzo was under police custody, and they had a disclaimer saying the guy wasn’t hired by them but was a free-lancer.