I remember falling. My head hurts. It’s resting in someone’s lap. I hear sirens. No. Not sirens. Screaming. No, that’s not screaming. It’s singing. It’s Renata. She’s singing at the top of her lungs. “Bad Romance.” In a really bad voice. She pauses after every verse to take a drag off her cigarette. Looks like she’s done with being the smoke police for the night. I guess I’m not dead, then, because I’m pretty sure Renata’s not supposed to be in my version of heaven. The music booms. I hear bottles clinking and people laughing. Something wet presses on my forehead. Ouch. Renata notices me looking around and shrieks. It startles me. “Jesus! What the hell?” I try to sit up, but hands push me down. Renata shrieks again. “He’s awake!” Then, as if I can’t understand English, she pushes her face close and talks to me slowly, in a loud voice. “Mike, can you hear me? Michael? Can you hear me?” I try to sit up again. My head is throbbing. Sara puts a hand on my chest.
