Roy dozed off at one point, the sharp opening of the curtain hiding him from the world bringing him out of sleep. There was another nurse standing over him this time, not that pretentious chubby nurse from before. What was her name again? This nurse was different. Tiny and slender, with blonde hair half falling out of a bun. She set a bowl and spoon on a tray next to him.

"Mornin' Roy."

"Evenin'."

"Here's dinner. Delicious, right? They probably won't let you eat till tomorrow." It was a bowl of ice chips. "If you did you would throw up, trust me."

"Thank you," Roy replied.

"No problem," the nurse answered. Her ID read as MacKenzie. Her voice was low and sharp like the pain in Roy's back, but it wasn't threatening. It was actually oddly pleasant.

"MacKenzie."

"Yeah, that's right" she said with a faint smile. "Glad you didn't land on your head. I read your chart."

"You called me Roy," he remarked.

"That's your name, isn't it? I said I read your chart."

She exited so quickly that Roy thought it was only to grab something and then come back. Roy sighed in disappointment. He was rather looking forward to a civil conversation.

It was dusk now, and Roy was in no mood to go back to sleep, or have a dinner of ice chips. He rubbed his grey eyes and let out a deep sigh. There were two more pills next to the bowl of ice. He swallowed them without water. He pulled the curtain all the way back to examine the room. There were two other beds, empty with folded clean white sheets. There was a clock on the wall, and a crucifix. A vase of fake sunflowers near the window tried its best to bring beauty in a place that smelt of dead skin cells and harsh floor cleaner. He noticed the wheelchair next to his bed. Looking, judging. He took the curtain and pulled it over to the right, bringing the wheelchair out of view and bringing the slight sunset in through the window.

Roy took the blanket off his legs. Funny, he thought. Why would they give him a blanket when his legs felt no temperature? He wanted to bend over, to touch his calves and feet, to maybe rub sensation back into them. But he could only reach his thighs. He felt so...broken. He was never going to get back into stunt work if he couldn't move his legs. He kept trying to will the feeling back. Over and over in his mind he envisioned himself kicking, flexing his calf muscles, his useless legs doing at least something, something other than lay there like two aliens, not responding to his command. His career was over. His life was over. His paralyzed legs were going to be a constant reminder of the stupid mistake he made.

And it was all because of Alice. She was the only reason he jumped. Sure, he needed the money. He was desperate for money, you could say. But deep down inside, he knew he just wanted to impress her. To be that dashing hero he always wished he could be.

Of course she was into the leading man, the man that Roy was the stunt double for. She was watching him as he jumped. And hit the water. And the blackness hit. And he thought he was kicking to get to the surface of water that was barely as deep as a pond.

But he was dying and couldn't do anything but lay in the murkiness of the river and helplessly watch as death was coming. That's when he felt the lead. It didn't even come instantly. He only noticed as two stagehands dragged him out of the water and onto the riverbank. One of them told him to walk it off as he coughed up water. But he couldn't. His body was held down with lead weights. His legs wouldn't do what he told them to do. And he lay there on the riverbank, unsure of what he was speaking about, but knew it was a mixture of I can't get up and you need to call the hospital. And they didn't realize how serious it was until they grabbed him and his legs fell limply to the ground and that throbbing pain pulsated through his broken spine. And Alice began to cry as that dashing leading actor shook his head, probably thinking, oh boy, look what Roy has gotten himself into now.

And remembering this as he lay in that hospital bed; he knew everything now, he wanted to cry. He wanted to sob because he had ruined himself for someone who didn't return his affections. How could Alice love him now? How could a cripple provide for her, to support her. The answer of course, was he couldn't. He could only lay and wait.