Here's a chapter from Paris' point of view.

I hope you enjoy!

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Paris' leg bounces up and down as her pent up nerves attempt to leave her body.

She pushes the buds of her earphones further into her ears, trying her hardest to drown out the voices in her head with the melodic sound of Twenty-One Pilots.

So far it's not working.

With a frustrated sigh she glances around the waiting room, examining the worried faces of unfamiliar people.

She spots a boy sitting in the corner, his eyes closed and fingers clasped together, his lips moving in a silent prayer.

She smiles softly to herself, thinking about doing some praying herself.

Before she gets the chance, a tall man with chiseled features makes his way towards her clad in a white coat and stethoscope.

She squints at the name tag dangling from the collar of the material.

Dr. James Turner

She stands up quickly, ripping the earbuds out of the way and waiting impatiently for him to speak.

"Hello." He greats her politely. She responds with a nod, urging him to continue.

"My name is Doctor James Turner, I'm the head of the E.R here at the hospital." He explains.

Her eyebrows furrow, wondering at the back of her mind why in the world the head of the E.R would take the time to come and talk to her. Fear rises up into her throat and she blinks away tears.

Ronan is fine. I just spoke with him on the phone a few hours ago. Calm down.

Taking a deep breathe and releasing it, she responds, "Nice to meet you. I'm Paris Carter."

He gives her a brief and professional smile. "I have some information about your friend..." He pauses to looks at his clipboard. Annoyance crawls it's way into the pit of her stomach, "Ronan Harris."

She nods, gesturing for him to continue.

"He's stable...there was some internal bleeding around his colon but we managed to get that under control fairly easily when he first came in. A couple of his ribs were fractured but luckily, none were broken. However, he will have to deal with a broken arm for a few months. His Radius was pretty severally damaged but it should heal nicely."

She pauses, looking to the floor and collecting her thoughts. Pressing her lips together, she sighs.

"He's okay though, right?"

Doctor Turner smiles, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's perfectly fine. But I suggest calling one of his immediate family members or guardian before he has any visitors."

Inwardly groaning, she nods once, thanks him, and sitting back down in her chair.

Paris runs a hand through her hair, cringing as she feels the oily texture. She quickly throws the blonde locks into a messy bun atop her head to avoid washing it.

It takes her half an hour to get up the courage to call his father. She didn't know his cell number so she settled for the landline, waiting patiently for him to pick up.

To her utter annoyance, it goes straight to voicemail. With a groan she does the next best thing.

Her father picks up on the third ring.

"Paris? What are you...it's four in the morning." His gruff voice comes clearly through the phone.

"Dad...I know that this is crazy and I need you to stay calm but...I'm at the hospital." She bites her lip as she waits for his reply.

"Okay..." He drawls, "Wait what?"

Paris presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "It's not me. I'm fine don't worry. It's...it's Ronan. He was in an accident earlier tonight and he called me. His dad isn't answering his phone and someone needs to be here. They won't let me in there to see him and - and I just want to...I need to..." she holds her hand over her mouth to stop herself from sobbing.

She knows he's okay but just the stress of worrying and not being able to see it for herself is building up and forcing itself out.

"Honey calm down. Is he okay?" She hears rustling on the other end as he speaks, guessing that it's him climbing out of bed.

"Yeah." She breathes, attempting to calm herself down. "He's okay. The doctor came and talked to me. He said that there was some internal bleeding. His ribs are hurt and his arms is broken but other than that he's fine."

"Okay well...thank God it wasn't any worse." He says quietly.

"Thank you God." She mutters, closing her eyes and breathing out of her nose.

"Thanks dad."

"No problem, Par."

"Hey um...there needs to be some type of guardian here for him and I don't think you count so could you..."

"Yeah. I'll head over there and get Caleb out of bed. I'll even drag him out of the bar if I have to." He grumbles.

She thanks him, hanging up the phone and shoving the device into the pocket of her sweatshirt.

She didn't have any time to change before heading to the hospital so she's in the same leggings, t-shirt, and sweatshirt she was wearing before he called. She glances down at the dirty Ugg boots on her feet, wiggling her toes with a sigh.

Paris' heart breaks for Ronan.

He just bought that car and now it's wrecked, his dad is a jerk who doesn't give a crap about him, and his mom is who knows where.

Pressing her fingers to her temples, she hopes and prays that her dad gets here soon with Caleb so she can just get in there and see him.

She needs to see him.