Chapter Text
“When you touch down, you immediately head to the hotel, Edmundo.” The voice of Eddie’s manager Brat rang through his head, leaving no space for arguments in between the many other orders he gave Eddie. “No time for chitchat, the meeting with that agent can't wait.”
The plane curved as it took its course to the runway of LAX. Eddie's eyes trailed over the view the city provided him with right now. The big skyscrapers, the luxurious villas and the busy flashing streets. The dark sky painted a perfect counterpart to the bright vibe L.A. offered. Eddie smiled softly, excited to be back. The last time Eddie visited L.A. was almost 3 years ago. Eddie visited an old friend of his. Maybe he should reach out to her, and her wife to tell them he's back in town.
The plane hit the ground, tearing Eddie out of his thoughts. He stumbled out of the plane, and did his best to navigate himself through the massive airport without getting lost in the many directions it went. Everything looked the same, white walls, people and gates everywhere. He pulled his baseball cap deeper in his face, shading it so he won't be recognised. Eddie loved meeting fans, one of his favourite parts about the job. He would stop at any point if he could, but he was running a tight schedule on a few coffees and an airport bagel. As he heaved his big suitcase off of the rolling band he wished for a decent amount of sleep. Eddie hadn't slept through a full night in days, too many shows, too many appointments, too many interviews. The same thing that’s happening right now. He wanted to crash at the hotel, fall into the bed and just sleep. However, he had to get to this self-proclaimed producer and push out a new song.
Eddie hasn't released any new music since his last album dropped a year ago. Any attempt on a song was in vain. No matter how hard Eddie tried to write new music, nothing good enough came out. His manager pressed for Eddie to come up with something so they could push it out and make more profit. Brat was hungry for attention and money. He explained to Eddie that he needed to stay on top of the industry, never stop being in people's mouths. Eddie never liked the idea of making music, art, just for consumption. He didn't go into this profession to push out one crappy, over produced song after the other, Eddie's songs were personal, they were made by himself for himself. That was his brand, or the brand he wanted to have at least. He wrote his last, and most personal album about his childhood. How growing up in a red neck state felt for someone so different from the rest of the world. His manager didn't love that idea either, but Eddie went through with it, and it turned into his biggest career spike yet. He had dodged every pressure Brat put on him until now, until Brat had threatened Eddie to end their contract and leave him stranded in this depth.
Eddie waved over an Uber. Every muscle ached with a burning itch. He was exhausted, had used up all of his energy on stage the night before. His body slumped down in the backseat of the car, cold leather against his hot skin. Soft, cold air from the car's AC hit Eddie's face, keeping him awake, as he told the driver where to go. The streets were busy and Eddie almost couldn't stop comparing it to the New York traffic, both feeling equally insane to him. He laid his head back, eyes watching the passing cars, and people on the streets. The driver seemed to be in need of small talk, because he asked Eddie all these questions to which Eddie responded as short as possible, his brain capacity ran out.
Eddie guided his gaze over the junction they were just passing, when he noticed a car coming down the right side of it way too fast. He thought about how hard the driver will have to brake in order not to hit them. The car came closer, and closer, and everything felt like slow motion. Eddie yelled out for the driver to watch out, but even the big swerve and drosseling the speed didn't help anymore. The red car crashed into their car, absolutely T-boning the side of their Uber. The car behind them didn't see the brake check coming and crashed into the trunk, shaking up the whole car. The crunch when the cars met each other was deafening, Eddie was sure everyone in L.A. heard this freak collision.
After Eddie's head hit the backside of the passenger seat hard, it launched back to the backside of his own. He hissed in response to a stabbing pain in his back from the pressure of the second impact. He hung in the backseat, the seatbelt, strapping him in his seat, pushing him deep into it. Eddie scrunched his eyes, as he tried to pull the belt away from his chest. It had trapped him inside his place so bad he could barely catch his breath. And then there was this stupid headache. Eddie's hand reached to the side of his forehead where the pain originated from. A sticky, warm substance settled itself there, it was red and now stained on his hand. Eddie shut his eyes, he had to breathe. Eddie tried to feel his body, which proved itself to be very difficult, every ounce of his body tingled. That was still a good sign, right? Eddie had read somewhere that as long as you can feel your body, it's going to be okay. He groaned as he pushed himself up with his hands, trying to release his body from the black leather.
He tried to look outside, but there was thick smoke building some sort of cage around them. Eddie could hear voices, they were saying something, some were screaming, but everything they said was inaudible. Eddie tore his glaze back into the car, landing on his driver. The driver sat unconscious in his seat, head on the steering wheel, body being held by the seatbelt, trapping him inside just like it did with Eddie. Eddie called out for him, he would have shaken him too, if he could just move.
He felt hot, very hot. Eddie didn't know why it suddenly felt like he was getting cooked alive. Then he remembered the smoke.
“Oh no.”
Panic rushed through Eddie's veins, stealing him of the little bit of oxygen he had left. The car was most likely on fire. It will burn down. And he is trapped inside of it, not able to get out. Quickly he grabbed the door handle, pulling on it in short and quick pulls. They weren't opening at all. They were jammed. His flat palm hit the glass in a desperate attempt to break the windows open. He put all the force he had left in it, hitting, smashing his hands against the thick glass over and over again.
“Fuck!” Eddie yelled out. Tears threatened to escape his eyes and roll down his red cheeks. He tried one last time, winding up his fist for one last hit,if this one doesn't break it then…
His fist collided with the glass once again. And once again nothing happened, not even a crack. Eddie looked at his bloodshot knuckles, frustrated. He was in so much pain. And he was still fucking trapped inside this car.
“I'm going to die, I'm so going to die.”
Eddie leaned back, closing his eyes. He was so light headed, even if he tried to keep his eyes open they would flutter shut again. The smoke had reached inside the car now, filling it up with a burnt, sharp smell. Was that gas? Eddie didn't know, he didn't want to know. It was too late already, nothing could help him now, he was a dead man. Dead at 24. Just another ‘celebrity’ leaving the world too soon.
“What a rotten way to go.”
The left side door sprung open with a bang, startling Eddie. Voices drained into the silentness of the car, one directed at the driver, the other directed at him. Eddie looked over, his scared, brown eyes meeting piercing, ocean blue ones, looking back at him with such purpose and certainty. Eddie couldn't help but to laugh half heartedly, maybe he wasn't going to die.
“LAFD, My name is Buck, we're gonna get you out of here.” Buck said, scooting closer to Eddie in the dissected rear seats.
Eddie wondered who called them. He didn't, Eddie didn't even think about it, too focused on his own panic. Buck had reached him now, putting something on him that he called a stiffneck. Eddie searched Buck's face, looking for the smallest bit of fear or hesitation. He didn't find any, Buck looked like this was a walk in the park for him. Everything he did was calculated, trained moves he performed with so much confidence it almost made Eddie forget that there was a time limit on this situation.
“Are you hurt, Sir?” He asked, gaze flicking over Eddie's body, and Eddie assumed that he meant anything else beside his bleeding head.
“Eddie,” He groaned weakly, surrendering to the weird need of introducing himself “My name is Eddie.”
“Okay,” Buck flashed a quick smile, and Eddie felt his heart pull itself together a little too fast, as he looked at Buck. “Where does it hurt, Eddie?”
“Does everywhere count?” Eddie laughed breathily, a ghostly sound Buck almost missed.
“Sounds about right.” Buck joked back, yet he was serious too. Eddie took a big hit from two sides, a miracle that he wasn't hurt badly. “You took a pretty hard hit there.”
“Can you move?” Buck had to keep him talking, he needed to stay conscious.
“No, the belt won't move.” Eddie demonstrated, ignoring the crushing devastation when he almost couldn't move his hand up anymore.
Buck pulled out a belt cutter, cutting Eddie free. Eddie watched his every move. Buck was so kind, and everything he did looked so easy. It fascinated Eddie, how calm Buck stayed under all this pressure. No blink was too fast, and no grip he took was too rushed. A perfectly coordinated rescue.
“Seems like they send the best.” Eddie felt his chest widen again. He took in a big breath, resisting the urge to immediately cough it out again. It tasted bad, rotten, and burned.
“You bet we are.” Buck winked at Eddie, and Eddie was sure his face flushed to an even darker red than before.
“Buck get out, it's gonna blow!” Another voice yelled, and Buck reacted to it instantly.
“I'm gonna pull you out now.” Buck announced in a steady voice, slipping his arms under Eddie's shoulders, interwinding them and then pulling Eddie out of the car, and on to a gurney, where he was met with an oxygen mask.
“Hot delivery!” Buck exclaimed, when the firefighter transferred Eddie to the paramedics on scene. It made Eddie chuckle, while he got strapped down on that trolley.
“We're going to take you to the-” A female voice told him, and not even a second later Eddie had a face matching the voice. He looked up at her, eyes widening as he recognised Hen.
“Eddie?” She recognised him, too. Even after not seeing him in real life, only following his life via Instagram, she recognised him immediately.
“Hi, Hen.” Eddie whispered quietly underneath the mask. At least he didn't need to text her, she already knows he's in L.A.
The exhaustion came over Eddie, like waves crashing down in the sea. He had been awake for too long, and now this, his body couldn't take it anymore. His vision blurred, and his breath turned shallow, before Eddie’s eyes rolled back, eyelids falling shut. He heard Hen call out orders to her team member, and shortly after, a needle poked his skin.
Eddie opened his eyes to the sound of annoyingly perfect, monotone beeping. He blinked against blinding, bright lights, scrunching his eyes in discomfort. His sight sharpened the blurred picture in front of him, revealing a sterile, and monochrome ceiling. Eddie looked down at himself, the memories of last night falling into his mind one after another. A catheter was placed in one of his arms, and beneath his nose there was a nose tube. Beside his bed were all kinds of machines. The realisation came creeping in, Eddie was in the hospital now. He didn't know how much time had passed after the accident, but the sun outside his window was an indicator that more time had passed than he thought it would have.
“Mister Diaz, good to see you awake!” A nurse chirped entering the room, a clip board in her hand to check Eddie's vitals.
“Looks like you're quite popular.” She added, noting down something on her papers.
“Sorry?” Eddie looked at her like she’d just announced that he had won something.
“There's quite a few people out there, waiting on you.” She shot a welcoming smile at him, pointing at the closed door that separated Eddie's room from the hallway.
“Really?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, what people could possibly be waiting for him? Besides Brat, he probably had about a hundred missed calls on his phone, demanding answers why Eddie wasn't picking up and checking in.
“Yeah, their firefighters! Do you want me to send them in?” She asked. Her long blonde hair was put into a loose ponytail that swayed side to side as she moved.
“Sure, please.” Eddie replied, intrigued. It wouldn’t be them now would it?
“Diaz!” Hen exclaimed happily, dragging out the z of his name, pulling it into something amusing. The smile on her face was flashing and radiant. She looked so happy seeing him, even if he was in a hospital bed.
Behind her the rest of the team followed in, like ducklings waddeling after their mama duck. Eddie’s eyes skimmed over the different faces until they stopped on a familiar one. That confident smirk, the bright blue eyes, Eddie couldn’t resist a smile himself as he recognised his noble hero. Hen noticed Eddie’s gaze, chuckling to herself as she caught onto what was happening. They all gathered around Eddie’s bed, looking at him. Hen introduced them all.
“So Hen, why have you never told us you knew a celebrity?” Ravi asked, sitting on the edge furthest away from Eddie, keeping his distance.
“She worked at one of my shows.” Eddie explained proudly, tapping her shoulder. She sat right next to him, thigh touching Eddie’s side. They met when Hen got the chance to help out in Eddie's awareness and safety team for a show. Ever since then they have shared a loose contact, shooting each other a quick message here and then. “And she totally crushed it.”
“Of course she did.” Chim exclaimed snarkyly, shooting her an eyerolling glance, to which she hit him in response. He stood besides Hen, because of course he did.
Eddie laughed, though it turned into a crunchy cough quickly. Worried glances watched him dry heave into his hands.
“You okay?” Bobby asked, watching Eddie’s vitals. “I can call you a nurse.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Eddie waved them off, wishing for a glass of water to magically appear in front of him without needing to ask for it.
“Besides, I think I’d be in pretty good hands if I wasn’t.” Eddie stated, his lips in his typical half-smile, half-grin as his eyes involuntarily froze on Buck as he talked. Buck stood right next to Ravi, a little too close for Eddie’s liking.
“The best.” Buck chuckled, eyes fixated on Eddie too. Buck looked incredibly good. Some strands of his messy blonde curls fell into his face. He was still wearing his turnouts, just without the jacket, revealing his trained biceps, a sight Eddie couldn’t deny, it was too hot for a jacket anyways. Eddie couldn’t stop staring. Buck mesmerized him, practically gluing his eyes on him. Everything about him seemed so goddamn perfect.
“Let’s hope you won’t get into an accident again any time soon, yeah?” Hen laughed, pulling Eddie’s attention away from Buck’s musculous body.
“How’s Karen?” Eddie stuttered, trying to forget the tingle his chest made when he glanced at Buck, and he was already looking at him, too.
“She is doing phantastic.” Hen swarmed, the thought of her wife painting a decent blush on her face. She gave him a small life update, talking about Danny and how they adopted another girl named Mara.
“How’s Lewis?" She turned the question around, and could tell immediately by Eddie’s reaction that she had asked the wrong question. Eddie’s jaw tightened, and his eyes left hers.
“We broke up last year.” Eddie swallowed hard, a limb in his throat making it extremely difficult to do so. He hated talking about it, hated thinking about how hurt he was.
It was an ugly break up, that cut deep into his soul. For months after he felt like he couldn’t breathe right, that everything felt too heavy to carry. Lewis had cheated, and left him for the other guy. Eddie fell into a deep hole after that. He had loved Lewis with everything in his heart. For the longest time Eddie believed he could never love someone again, too afraid to get hurt again. He was doing better now, not as angry, not as scared, though that didn’t mean thinking about it was any less painful. Hen offered her condolences, changing the topic to some hilarious stories about their rescues.
Eddie was released a few hours after the 118 had left to start their next shift. Eddie called back to Brat, explaining what had happened. To no surprise was Brat pushing for Eddie to still perform even when he really didn’t want to. Nevertheless Eddie had no choice, he had to listen to Brat, he had to perform, had to postpone the meeting he was supposed to go to yesterday.
No matter how much Eddie tried to forget that one firefighter he couldn’t help himself but to think of him. Every time he thought back to the accident, he saw Buck reaching for him, saving him. Eddie rolled to his side, shuffling the bedding beneath him. He buried his face into his hands, groaning. Why couldn’t he let the thought of Buck go? It’s not like he hasn’t seen attractive men before. So why was he so caught up about Buck? Sure, he pulled him out of a car after the accident, but that wasn’t possibly enough to make Eddie fall, right? He wasn’t so desperate, he didn’t have a crush on Buck did he?
The thoughts circling in his mind robbed him of the sleep his doctor had prescribed him. He was supposed to get lots of rest, and sleep, but how was he supposed to do that when this certain man, with this stupid smile took over his entire head?
"Well, shit."
Eddie knew he was done for. This was far from ideal. L.A. was supposed to be a quick three day stop for the tour. It was never supposed to turn into whatever this is going to be. Eddie didn’t even know what that was that lingered in his chest, that made him want to stay here. Something about this city called to him, something he has secretly always thought.
There was no use in trying to go to sleep, so Eddie packed it, put on his shoes and walked out the hotel room and onto the busy streets of L.A. blending in the crowds. Eddie walked, and walked, the shades on his face concealing the dark eyebags that adorned his face, another result of the pressure he was under. He stopped at a big cross walk. He turned, looking around. This seemed awfully familiar, too familiar.
Then he saw it, the skid marks on the ground, one horizontal, the other vertically. He had found the place of the accident. He stared at the black marks of the tires that had burned themselves into the ground, some small shards broke and reflected the sunlight, painting a nice glitter to the sad, gray asphalt. His breath stopped for a second. In the same spot he had been scared to death yesterday were people driving like nothing ever happened, because that’s what it looked like now, no broken cars, no smoke, no fire, nothing besides sunshine and people unsuspecting of what horrors happened here just a few hours ago.
A phone rang with a soft tune Eddie knew all too well, it sounded close and loud. It took him embarrassingly long to realise that it was his phone, he pulled it out of his pocket, reading Hen’s name on the display. He picked up, waiting to hear her voice through the speaker of his phone.
“Hi Eddie, I heard you got released.” Hen's soft voice called over the line.
“Yeah, like two hours ago.” Eddie replied, eyes still fixed on the scene of the accident. The pictures of what he claimed to be the last view minutes of his life flashing through his third eye.
“I was thinking, maybe you want to join me and Karen for dinner later?”
“Sounds good, I’ll see if I can make it.” The offer sounded so good, and the gesture was so sweet, Eddie would have loved to simply say yes and show up, unfortunately it wasn't that easy for him anymore.
“Busy as always.” Hen tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. It sounded like a joke, but Eddie knew how this went, heard what she tried to disguise with a small laugh.
“You know it, but I appreciate the offer, I'll see what I can do.”
“That’s not a no, see you at seven.” Hen chimed, sounding so excited to hear Eddie's indecision. You could basically hear the grin she wore on her face.
“Okay, thank you.” Eddie himself smiled, before he remembered where he stood.
“Hey, uh, I totally forgot to ask earlier, but how are the other drivers?” Eddie felt bad for not asking sooner, or checking in on them. It totally slipped his mind, or maybe it got washed out to make room for lightning blue eyes.
“They took some more damage than you, but they all survived, I think they’ll make a good recovery.” Hen repeated what she overheard at the hospital.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Relief settled in Eddie's chest, now he was finally able to look away from the street of the accident, and what's left of it.
“See you, Diaz.” She teased, interpreting his silence as to him not wanting to talk any longer. He was a busy man after all.
“See you, Willson.”
The meeting was so boring Eddie could practically hear his head throbbing to his heartbeat. And he was sure he had named all the different types of guitars there were in his head. The guy, calling himself Ryan, was even more boring than the article about Salmon Eddie had read on his way here. His ideas of a song, and the production were simple, and everything he showed Eddie sounded like the most basic, radio nonsense. He spoke in this slow, monotone voice that could gently put anyone to sleep. The room was small, and so incredibly hot. The big PC and all the other regulators, and AMPS heated up the room, beating the fan they set up in the corner. Eddie sat on a desk chair with a block of paper on his lap, and a pen in his hand. He tried, yet everything that came to his mind got scrabbled out. After hours of their writing session Eddie's papers were filled with doodles or scrunched up, laying on the ground.
Eddie bolted out of there the second he got the chance to. These past hours were one of the most dissatisfying he had ever experienced. Everything Eddie thought was good, got thrown out by Ryan, claiming it to not speak to the mass. Eddie wondered what mass he had to please. He did this all for him, okay, maybe for his fans, too. But Eddie knew they liked him for his style of writing music, he knew they would love his ideas. There were just too little of them to get a song out of them. He would come up with something eventually. He knew he would, he just wasn't sure if it would satisfy Brat, and now apparently Ryan, too. Brat had pulled Ryan onto Eddie's team, allowing him a big part of control over Eddie's life.
His fist met the wooden door, gently knocking on it three times, before it opened inwards. He was met with Karen, she embraced him in a big hug, taking the wine Eddie brought as a gift off of his hands. Eddie would have a good time, he deserved one. Having friends with a busy schedule was hard, so he should try to make the most out of it while he is in L.A.