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Once Alex has slept for approximately a year he feels less like death. As a bonus, they finally let him have his phone back. There are more or less a million things on it to check, and he’s bored enough to tackle at least the important ones first. He happily takes the excuse of heat stroke and hospital to ignore the rest.
He calls his mom and spends a blissful twenty minutes being chatted to; it’s exactly the comfort that he wants right now.
Gemma, worried, offers to come visit.
He texts back, Thanks, but I’m exhausted. And completely fine. I’ll see you on Thursday. Talking on the phone is one thing, but he’s not up to people yet. He’s being kept for observation another night because apparently one of the perks of fame is more hospital food.
Liam he texts too. Congrats on the engag
