Naya woke up to the annoying buzz of her iPhone on her night stand and cursed it for waking her up from her slumber.

"I don't know how many fucking people call you in the middle of the night just to fucking wake you up when you are fucking having a headache because you are fucking drunk." She ranted on as she looked at her bedside clock. It was still 1:43 in the morning.

She stared at her phone to check who was calling in that time. It was Dianna Agron. She decided to pick up the call.

"Agron, this better be go-," she warned her friend with a groggy voice, she was half-asleep and pissed, but Dianna had cut her off. Good thing her drunkenness was already fading or else, this Agron who's calling her would have to listen to a Spanish swearing spree.

"Naya! I'm glad you picked up, oh Naya…" Dianna's voice was shaking. And by the tone that she spoke, Naya could tell that Dianna was panicking.

"Di, what is it?" Naya was fully awake now. She started to get a feeling that something happened. Something that was not entirely pleasurable.

"Naya…Heather…it's Hemo," Dianna started to break down into sobs.

"What happened?" Naya dreaded what she had to hear next.

"She…was in a car crash…" Dianna broke down crying.

For moment, Naya's heartbeat seemed to stop, and then it resumed into an amplified manner. Adrenaline rushed into her body as her mind processed what had Dianna said.

"Di, where is she?"

"She's in New York. I heard of it when my friend on Presbyterian called me. Naya…" Dianna frantically wailed.

"Thanks. I'll check on her." Naya hung up and jumped into a pair of flat-soled, brown boots and picked up purse and car keys. She went out of her room and shook out the soul of Mark Salling who laid on Naya's couch, sprawled like a starfish, his socks sticking up to the air.

"Get up there, Mark," she tugged at the guy's jacket.

"Wha-?" Mark sat up, wiping his drool from his mouth.

"We're fucking going to New York?"

"What?" Mark's brain continued to have a difficulty in grasping Naya's words.

Mark's phone rang and he quickly picked it up. It was Amber Riley. "Yeah, what? Yeah, I must have slept here in her apartment?" There was a silence that hung upon the room. "What?" Mark's eyes grew wide. "Alright. I'll tell her. We're coming." Mark said, the shock was still registered in his face.

Mark faced Naya. "It's Heath-"

"I know. And I want to get to her as soon as possible. Are you with me or not?"

"With you," Mark said.

"Get up and get that fucking drool outta your face."

Mark wiped his face. He looked around and he could hear Naya running down the hall towards the elevator. Mark had to run after Naya as a thought ran through his mind briefly.

That girl is truly in love with her best friend.

Naya sped up across the highway, going into about 120 miles per hour.

"Naya, slow down," Mark said quietly.

"I know you've got a death wish so, ride on it." With that, Naya stepped harder on the accelerator. The Elantra swished through the air as Naya sat there and drove with focus on the road. She needs to get to Heather.

She needs to. She needs to. And Heather has to be okay.

She made an abrupt halt in front of LAX. There weren't as much people, just like what she had expected.

She went to the reception area.

"I want to book the next flight to New York."

"The next flight that can accommodate you will be in three hours, ma'am." The receptionist behind the desk was clearly unaware that he was talking to a celebrity, not with Naya's messy head and unmade-up beauty.

"Sorry, ma'am, but they're having their final permissions in five minutes."

"Damn it, don't let them fly just yet!" Naya literally yelled into the receptionist's face.

"Look, ma'am, try to consider this."

"Just book us a flight, son." Mark said to the receptionist, who instantly recognized Mark.

"Sir, I just…I apologize."

"It's alright. I mean, it was our fault too."

"Fine then. I'll book you both, I'll just transfer a couple from the first class to the coach class. Go catch the plane."

"Nahh, don't bother, we'll sit at the lowest cabin, or wherever as long as we reach New York in no time," Naya said, waving a dismissive hand across the air. Mark then pulled her alongside and ran to catch the plane.

"I know you'd be of use," Naya said to Mark as she ran through the security foyer.

"Thank my dad for that. He made me as his son and made himself get the biggest share of the effin' airport." Mark said, his face flushed because Naya looked at him in a very funny way. They reached the plane and they spotted two seats, back corner of the coach class of the plane.

"Sorry we had to manage with this."

"No, Naya, it's really okay, we just need to reach Heather, right?"

"Mark…" Naya reached out for her friend's hand. "I want to hear that she's not badly hurt," the pain in her eyes was clear.

"She's a strong person, she can get through this."

"I know, I know," Naya stared out into the dark beyond the plane window.

"Go to sleep, Nay. We still have a few hour of air travel."

"Okay." Naya closed her eyes, but all she can imagine was Heather, her dear Heather Morris.

Her dear Heather who was in the hospital, fighting for her life.

A warm hand tapped Naya's shoulder. "Naya, wake up. We're already descending."

"Whoa…wait," Naya sat up erectly on her seat. She followed mark as they both got out of the plane.

Through the drive to the hospital, Naya did not say anything, her knuckles turning white as she clenched them whilst looking into the still-dark twilight outside the city streets.

"Hey, Naya, she'll be okay, I just know it," Mark gave Naya a tap on her shoulder.

"I know Mark. Thanks." Naya smiled at her friend. All these years, Mark had been very supportive of her. When she was still on Glee and Mark was, she even put it into consideration that they might be lovers, but no matter how she looks at it, Heather Morris had always had a chain in her heart.

Heather Morris. She's seeing her in at least an hour, after for a year.

The plane landed and Mark instantly got them a private ride waiting. Naya could hear her heart throbbing against her chest. What could she say to Heather?

Probably, tell her how scared she was.

They went into the hospital, with Mark stalling behind Naya as she approached the nurse's desk.

"Is there a Heather Morris-Hubbell that had been admitted here?" Naya asked nervously.

The nurse upfront typed something on the computer that she was facing and looked up at Naya. "What is your relation to the patient?"

Naya had to swallow hard. "I'm a friend."

"She's in the ICU-4. It's in the west wing, just walk ahead and turn left," the nurse said, dismissively.

The thought of Heather in intensive care unit was feeling like a dagger running through Naya's heart. Luckily, Mark was there beside her. They both walked towards the direction the nurse gave them and peeked at the intensive care, there was just white and a lot of doctors inside. Naya slumped onto one of the white waiting chairs that were lined opposite the room door. Mark sat to another, giving a two-seat interval from Naya.

"Nay, you okay?"

Naya just nodded. She leaned back against the white-painted walls and breathed hard against the medicine-smelling air. She looked up at the ceiling.

God, why the hell their lives had to be so messed up?