It hurt to struggle within the bandage wrapped firmly around his hands; why did his fracturing of a couple of fingers end him up in this situation? This was awful—not only could he not play guitar for a week or so, but he had to miss a whole bunch of concerts and he'd have to sleep in the hospital for a night.

Oh, well, it wasn't all too bad; some of his guests, actually, a majority of the popstar's guests were all Cobraheads that brought him "get well soon" gifts. Of course, he couldn't really open them…that was the only downside for now. Billy couldn't even do anything other than sleep and eat right now, for wriggling his fingers around in those bandages of his only caused him more pain. He couldn't even watch programs that were probably featuring him!

He released a slight sigh, wishing for something to pass the time. Midnight, drunken concerts weren't exactly the best idea he'd had in his lifetime; in fact, that was what brought him to this point. A clumsy dive off stage, the audience ending up not catching him in the heat of the party, and Billy'd landed right on his hands, which were still filled with agonizing pain and various scratches that ended up staining the bandages with crimson blood.

Normally, he'd be over this and just try to pass out or something, but he'd just woken up a moment ago in his second night at the hospital due to nightmares he'd been having. (That's right, in only one day, he'd been brought billions of presents, but still, they couldn't be opened by him and they now resided within the Cobra mansion. Come to think of it, his mailbox was also probably filled to the brim with letters of concern and love.)

Billy didn't even know when these nightmares started, but they'd always feature something gruesome and terrifying, and kept him up for hours. It didn't help much that he got frightened easily and therefore, everything in the dark seemed to be reaching out for him with clawed fingers and grim smirks. Thanks to that, he was covered with his bedsheets—it'd taken a lot of work to even perform such a task. Another fact that didn't ease his dread was that he was in a hospital, of all places—hell, it was probably haunted!

At that precise moment of thought, he heard the door creak open and yelped, trembling within the sheets until he heard a familiar voice. "Billy? You in here?" The light flickered on, and his bedsheets were removed—apparently, the identity of the voice was just as he'd expected; his distant cousin, Jane. Her family (consisting of her husband, Hugh, and a kid named Spencer) was gathered around the popstar's hospital bed, and he relaxed a bit, flashing her a quivering smile. "What were you doing under the blanket?"

He would've waved his arms in protest, but they were much too sore to do anything of the sort, so he simply made up a…rather pathetic excuse. Sure, he'd been in a few movies and had a gift for acting, but this was an entirely different case. Billy'd just been scared to death, or, well…just about. "N-no reason, just…I was getting cold." Jane quirked a brow, but went along with it, seeing as to how she didn't say anything more. "What are you doing here? It's so early…"

"Well, we came as soon as we could! We do live pretty far from California, after all…the receptionist let us in, since we're family. Anyway…how are you doing? Hugh and I heard it was a pretty nasty blow you took!" her expression revealed concern, but Billy shrugged it off with a slight pout. Hospitalization sucked, especially when you didn't have the money to pay for it. Which Billy did, but that still wasn't the point.

"Yeah, sure…my poor hands are ruined, though…" the popstar frowned, glancing at the bandages once more before returning his attention to the Wrights (said distant cousins). "This doesn't mean I'm gonna have difficulty with my guitar from now on, does it!?" Billy's voice was panicked now as the possibility came to mind. If he couldn't play, he couldn't perform, and he couldn't be an idol anymore!

"Not to worry, Billy, the doctor said your hand's going to become even stronger once this is over!" Hugh responded, patting Billy on the shoulder, spurring another burst of pain which caused the idol to cringe. "Whoops! Sorry, Billy!" Hugh tended to be a bit clumsy, the only aspect of him which the popstar didn't particularly enjoy. Still, he was a pretty good guy, even if he was an idiot.

Billy laid himself down; it was only then that he realized he was sitting straight up in bed after the scare he had. Again wishing for his hands to return to their former glory due to a headache he was beginning to get, he finally spoke up again. "…I see you brought Spence with you. You didn't get another babysitter?" That inquiry was out of pure curiosity, but it did pop up due to Spencer's presence. They'd normally hire a babysitter (a fact he knew due to prior experience with the kid), so it did raise a few questions.

"Actually, we were planning to move around here soon! We just got here, but we're looking for homes and staying in a hotel. Spencer tagged along because he got worried." the small brunet snapped out of his trance, probably induced due to how exhausted he was, and glared at his mother for revealing such information.

"How cute…miss your babysitter, huh?" Billy asked with a wry smile; they'd actually had quite a few babysitting adventures. There had been a few events where they went out and did something, like go to an amusement park, or the popstar would occasionally drag him to concerts (without telling his parents, of course. They'd never approve). Spencer sniffled a bit, though it wasn't too noticeable, and headed to the idol's side, wrapping tiny arms around his neck. A hug? One he would've returned should his arms not be restricted.

"When are you gonna get better, Billy?" the brunet asked in a worried tone after releasing his grip on the idol, though it was hushed and hoarse, one again most likely due to weariness from the elongated trip. Billy couldn't help grinning, and he wished he could pet Spencer's hair in a reassuring way so as to let him know that the popstar would be fine.

"I'll be better soon. A week, at the most, maybe? Are you gonna be able to cope without your idol around for such a long time?" he was joking, of course, and assured that much with a wink. Spencer smiled a bit; there, at least he was feeling better. Billy happened to have that sort of effect on people.

"Idol? You wish!" Spence declared a bit more eagerly, and Billy quirked a brow, maintaining the grin on his features.

"Oh, sorry, I used the wrong term. Maybe role model would be a better fit?"

"Nuh uh!"

"Ouch, little guy! If I'm not your idol or role model, then what am I, chopped liver?"

"Nope…you're my best friend!"