This Place Will Always Be a Part of Me

Garrett Nickelson stared out of the bus window, a smile appearing on his face as he read the sign announcing their arrival in Tucson. He began to bounce up and down in his seat excitedly, accidentally waking Jared.

"Sorry," he whispered, "go back to sleep."

Everyone else was passed out in their bunks but Garrett was too psyched to sleep. And soon enough, they had parked and Garrett was stirring his band members awake.

"John," he whispered, shaking him lightly. Garrett cleared his throat and spoke louder, "John." The singer blinked rapidly and sat up, "Wh-what?"

"We're home."

Garrett finally got everyone up and took a deep breath, excited to be in his home state again.

Stepping off of the bus, Garrett inhaled the Arizona night air. It was good to be home. He wandered around his neighborhood for a while, finding himself at a park he played at as a kid. Sitting underneath the large oak tree, Garrett closed his eyes, reminiscing on childhood memories flying at him.

He was thirteen again. Thirteen and careless, running barefoot in the summer. Laughing with John and Kennedy as they ran for their lives, away from their grumpy old neighbor (who apparently didn't like water balloons.)

He was fifteen again. Fifteen and curious, smoking his first cigarette by the swings. Chasing after pretty girls, then later mocking them with Pat, trying to move past rejection.

He was seventeen again. Seventeen and lonely, fighting with John about his newest "girlfriend." Staying up all night in his bunk, thinking back on their stupid fights and wishing John would be his.

Now he's nineteen. Nineteen and broken, wanting John more than ever. He then, sat down next to Garrett, softly singing. Opening his eyes, Garrett turned to look at John; he loved his voice. Smiling, John looked back into Garrett's eyes.

"Just don't forget this, we won't regret this. We've got one chance to get it right..." John sang quietly, his face inching closer and closer to Garrett's. Their lips connected, Garrett's eyes fluttering shut. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest, wondering if John could feel it. For the short while it lasted, it was bliss.

"We're alive..." John whispered, taking Garrett's hand in his. Garrett had never felt it more. His mind was racing, but all doubts disappeared when John put his hand on Garrett's face, running his thumb along his cheekbone.

"I like you," the singer whispered, looking deeply into Garrett's green orbs.

"Is this a dream?" Garrett asked, his voice giving out.

John smiled slightly, shaking his head.

"I-I like you too, John. But... why now? Since when?"

John breathed in the night air and closed his eyes, "I've always liked you. Seeing you on stage, seeing the girls scream after you... It broke me. That's why I was with so many different girls. I was trying to f-forget. But now that we're alone, now that we're home, I needed you to know."

Garrett cupped John's face in his hands, pressing their lips together. It felt so right. It felt like home.