Baby It's Fact

I took it upon myself to check if anyone else had heard that. I walked into the other room.

Grandma had a weird look on her face, as if she was figuring out the odds of her youngest daughter and grandson both being not straight. The other guys looked like nothing would shock them anymore, especially after the past few weeks.

“Alexander.” She said without looking up. “I’m going to talk to Deanna, you stay here.”

I sat down meekly.

Literally as soon as she must have got there, she called me. The scene that I saw would have been pretty damn funny in other situations, but not this one.

Deanna had jumped onto Jack’s back and looked as if she was trying to rip his hair out (good luck to her, cause I had tried so many times but his damn Arab hair was too strong for me to pull out). Grandma had hooked her arms round Deanna’s waist and was trying to extract her from Jack.

"Dea, get off Jack.” I ordered.

“Fuck off, skank.” She replied.

“Deanna!”

Deanna tried to look at her mother.

“You can’t exactly lecture me on language. Remember that time with Joey and Jordan?”

Did I want to know?

I took advantage of the distraction and dragged her off, whilst she kicked and screamed. As soon as I set her down, she lunged for Jack again.

I felt so bad for him. First he ended up married to me, then he had to fake it and now my crazy Aunt was trying to kill him. He didn’t even have the energy to run away to safety.

We heard a crack and Jack’s scream. By the way he was holding his face; I guessed that she had hit his weak spot.

His nose.

=

Right now, Matt was getting what my British relatives would call a “bollocking” from Keith. We could hear him yelling over the phone at Matt.

“Matt, I leave them with you for 3 months! 3 months, Matt! Jack and Alex end up married and now Jack just got beaten up by Alex’s cousin!”

Matt didn’t have the heart to point out Deanna was my aunt.

“Normally, it’s my ass that’s beaten by the label for this sort of shit, but it’s your mess. Sort it.”

He put his head in hands.

“He’s going to have my job for this. It’s been nice knowing you guys.” He sighed.

“What?” I stood up angrily. “He can’t do that!”

“He can’t do that, but the label probably can.”

“Then I’ll tell them that it’s not your fault that we’re fuck-ups.”

“It’s too late, Alex. There’s nothing anyone can do.”

I kicked the chair. We were the only ones in the waiting room anyway. Jack was currently in A&E, Deanna was presumably also getting a bollocking from Grandma and the other guys went to the hotel.

The doctor came into the room.

“Mr Gaskarth?”

“Yeah?” I replied glumly.

“Because of Mr Barakat’s previous injuries, we’re going to have to operate to avoid complications.”

My heart thudded.

“Complications?”

“If we don’t sort it out now, then there could be infections, he could lose his sense of smell or there might even be a hole in his septum.”

I could have cried.

“O-okay.”

“We’re operating very soon. We’ll let you visit when he comes back round.”
My mood reflected the lyrics that had inspired our band’s name.

And it feels like I'm at an all-time low.