Ignoring the desperate calls from Zach, Milo rushed into the crowd, dodging the sea of eager fans and making his way to the boy at the back. He didn't really know what happened, or how it happened for that matter, all he knew is that someone got hurt. Milo had a habit of helping other people, regardless of his fame. Once he reached the back, he stumbled towards the frail teenager on the floor and peered over at him, curious. He took off the boy's coat, in fear that he had a fever and might get too warm, but once he'd took it off, it was blatantly obvious where the boy had come from, and it was all given away by the laminated band around his wrist.
"My god," Milo exclaimed, turning around to face his bandmates, "He's a runaway."
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Confused, his mind clouded and the migraine still lurking about, Axel didn't really know what to do with himself. He sat up groggily, his back aching from the fall. When he forced his eyes open, he found himself not in the hospital, or by Nurse Amy's side, but on a scarlet sofa, surrounded by all sorts of fancy costumes and make-up stations. Was he backstage? His eyes stung, so he rubbed them forcefully - which didn't help one bit. When he took his hands away from his eyes, a young boy's face sat uncomfortably close to his own. Taken aback, he stumbled and consequently fell off of the sofa, though, the boy caught him before his body hit the ground.
"Ah! I'm sorry! Are you okay?" That same emerald-green hair that Axel had seen just a few hours before hung across the boy's face, engulfing his left eye, and his magenta eyes seemed stained with worry.
"M...Milo?" Axel called out. His voice was hoarse and raspy, but still as gentle and quiet as usual.
"That's me. But, you didn't answer my question." the boy chuckled.
"Oh... sorry. Um... I'm-"
"Axel Guevara, right?"
"How did you...know?"
Milo smiled gently - so gently that it almost seemed sad - and pulled something familiar from his pocket. Axel's wristband! Panicked, Axel frowned and snatched the wristband from him. Although he seemed surprised, that kind smile never faded from Milo's lips.
"Sorry. I took your coat off so you didn't get too warm and found it," he began, "Did you run away?"
The sickly boy started to shake his head, but stopped half way through, and changed to a slight, ashamed nod.
"Why? I know that being stuck in a hospital must be awful, but if you're wanting to get better you shoul-"
"I aren't getting better. Plus, I didn't leave solely because I hated it there. I actually... wanted to see you play." Axel dropped his head so that his faded black hair hung limply over his face, trying to hide the fact that his eyes were shrouded with tears.
"Who said you're not getting better?"
"Me."
"Then it isn't confirmed that you won't."
"It's impossible for me to get better!"
"The impossible is possible, all you've got to do is make it so!"
Axel slowly lifted his head. Even though tears of grief relentlessly fell down his boney cheeks in melancholy streams, there was a glint of shock, or perhaps, even hope. "What did you say?"
Milo, still smiling, a little wider than before, repeated himself but slower this time. "The impossible... is possible. All you've got to do... is make it so."
He reached out pale arms and brought Axel into a friendly embrace. "Why give up when you haven't even started believing yet? Nothing is truly impossible. Maybe you have to bend the truth a little to get there, sure, but that doesn't mean it can't be done." He pulled away and looked meaningfully into Axel's aqua eyes. "People say that man can't fly, and never will, but we already do. Whether it's in a plane, a helicopter, or hell, even if it's only metaphorically, that doesn't mean it didn't happen, right? They say that faeries can't lie, but if they lay down on the floor, then they're lying, aren't they?"
Axel knew that Milo's logic wasn't... well... logical, but even so, the fact that he was so passionate in his belief - so determined that anything is possible - lit a fire in Axel that he never knew he had.
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