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Bobby doesn’t notice, at first. Not because he’s focused on Rose, or he doesn’t hear the sirens, or even because he’s inside and his bandmates aren’t. But because this was meant to be their night. They were going to make it big here, and there was nothing that could ruin that.
He’s still chatting with Rose when they realize, sharing a look, that the ambulance sirens they’d been hearing in the distance have stopped almost right next door.
“They’re close,” Rose says.
“Yeah,” Bobby says, and he hesitates, trying to figure out if his bandmates have been gone long enough to be worried.
“It’s probably nothing,” Rose tells him. Her voice is reassuring, almost sympathetic, and he’s not so oblivious as to miss that she’s paying more attention to him now than she was before. At this point though, with the conspicuous absence of his friends hanging over him, he can’t bring himself to entirely care.
“Let me just—” He gestures at the exit the rest of his band used earlier. “—You know, check on them. Make sure they haven’t broken anything.” He tries to mimic Luke’s smile from before, when he’d leaned in to rat Bobby out about eating a burger, but he can tell by the look on Rose’s face that he doesn’t quite get there. She still nods at him though, and he’s out the door in seconds, only stopping to grab a jacket on his way out.
They were right; the ambulances, plural, are close, literally just a block away, and their lights flash red and blue all over the road. He ducks his head when he passes the line into the Orpheum, just in case some girls try to talk to him, but everyone’s attention is on the scene across the street and he doubts he really needed to bother.
Bobby grabs a guy’s shoulder as soon as he’s near the ambulances, leaning in even as he keeps his eyes on what’s happening. “Hey, what’s going on?”
The guy, bearded and obviously older than him, turns. “Honestly not too sure myself, sounds like food poisoning or something? But no one is really sure.”
The guy turns back around, shrugging, but Bobby’s heart is racing. Streetdogs… food poisoning… it’s too much to be a coincidence, and he pushes his way through the rest of the crowd until he stumbles into a paramedic who’s helping to pack up the scene.
“Hey,” Bobby says. “Hey, do you know who’s sick? I know my friends were going out and some guy said it was food poisoning and—”
He stops, stares. He can’t see much inside the ambulances, not with the paramedics moving everywhere, but there’s a pair of Vans at the end of a stretcher and while this wouldn’t normally be enough evidence, he just sees it as another piece of the puzzle. In the next second he’s trying to climb into the ambulance.
“Hey!” the paramedic now behind him yells. “Dude you can’t just go in there!”
Bobby whirls on her. “Those are my friends!”
“Okay,” she says, suddenly much more sympathetic, and Bobby doesn’t want to think about why that is. “Here, you can ride in this one, okay? There’s no room in the other.”
Bobby lets her lead him to the second ambulance, but he doesn’t hear what she says to her coworkers once he’s high enough to see inside, too numb to do anything but stare at Alex. He’s the only one here, which means Reggie and Luke are probably in the other, which explains the lack of room.
One of the paramedics sits him on the bench, smiles at him sympathetically—again with the sympathy—and then turns back to his job. He doesn’t say everything will be okay. He doesn’t say Bobby should expect his bandmates, his friends, back on their feet in time to perform at the Orpheum. He doesn’t even say they have a chance. Instead the door closes behind Bobby and the ambulance lurches forward, sirens wailing, and Bobby is left to stare at Alex’s lax, unconscious face. But he doesn’t dare to touch him, too scared of getting in the paramedics’ way.
Later, at the hospital, after the doctor tells him that all three of his friends are gone, he’ll try to remember what their last interactions were. Luke telling Rose that Bobby had a hamburger for lunch. Reggie clapping him on the shoulder as he left. Alex shooting him a quick smile.
Bobby doing his best to ignore them all because he was more focused on a girl than the band.
That’s the one that sticks out, really. It’s what runs through his mind late at night when he’s trying to sleep, a confession loose on his lips when he gives their eulogies. It’s like a secret he shares with Rose alone that he doesn’t want to admit to. That his last moments with his friends wasn’t performing with them, wasn’t eating streetdogs, wasn’t hanging out.
His last moment with them was built from annoyance, and he’ll never forgive himself for that.