God, you hate this. It's so embarrassing. And no one's even stopping to help as you wobble back to your room with your crutches while awkwardly grasping a bottle of Gatorade in one hand. You're growing frustrated as you feel it slip from your hand, but you hold in that groan when you suddenly hear sniffling from the room beside you. The door is open a bit but the curtain is closed. You hobble to a stop and feel your stomach drop when the bottle falls from your hand and rolls into the room.

Well, fuck.

You internally scream and shut your eyes when you see a hand reach down and pick it up, and when you open your eyes again, the curtain is open and the most beautiful girl is looking at you with the saddest expression you've ever seen. Her eyes are bloodshot and she's clearly been crying. She looks much worse than you.

"Got that for you." you blurt out, smiling bashfully. As you get a good look at her, you remember seeing a glimpse of her blonde hair when she first got here a few days ago, a bunch of nurses and even a few reporters that managed to sneak in surround her room.

She smiles faintly at your joke and holds the bottle out for you. You notice how bony and pale her arms are and frown. You also see how empty her room is as you walk in. No flowers or balloons or teddy bears in sight. You find it odd because a bunch of people have come over to see her. Maybe she needs the Gatorade more than you, actually.

"You're in the room next to me, right?" she asks, her voice weak and rough.