Trophy Eyes.

Joe does what he told Alex he’d do; leave the box somewhere Jack will see it. That place turns out to be the dining table, right next to Jack’s cell phone charger.

When Jack comes careering downstairs on the hunt for the device and sees the box, he frowns at it before picking it up. It’s not particularly big or flashy - a brown cardboard device tied shut with string - but it has his name written across it in a scrawl he doesn’t recognize. He picks up his charger and takes the box back upstairs with him.

He sits down on his bed and plugs his cell in so it doesn’t commit suicide on him. Then he carefully unfastens the string, half expecting it to be a cheap jack-in-the-box and for something to spring out at him. Nothing happens, so he unfolds the flaps of the box and pulls the CD case from inside it. He flips it open and a piece of paper he didn’t notice before falls into his lap.

He unfolds it gently, and reads what it says. It’s written in the same handwriting as his name on the top of the box.

Jack, I know you think this is stupid and you pretty much hate me, but please just put this in your laptop. X

Jack stares at the paper for a few more seconds and he realizes that the handwriting is much shakier on the paper than on the lid. He does what the note tells him anyway, switching his laptop off standby and pushing the disc into his laptop.

After pushing a few buttons, the video starts up.

Alex appears on screen, arm reached over and clearly trying to fix his webcam.

“Alright, that’ll have to do.”

Jack watches the screen intently and frowns when Alex looks at the camera properly. His brown eyes shine with unshed tears.

Alex picks up an open notebook and shows it to the camera. Both pages are covered in his messy scrawl, and as he lowers it to his lap, he explains what it is.

“So, since the last one didn’t work, and I was so sure it would, this time it’s just you and me. So, I wrote down all the things I adore about you, just so I wouldn’t forget to tell you any of them. So, number one; your smile.”

Jack stares at the laptop screen in disbelief; Alex has listed everything he likes about Jack? That’s never happened before.

“I swear, they should bottle your smile and sell it on the black market as a pick-me-up drug. They’d make millions.”

Alex does go through all of the reasons he’s got written down - there must be at least two hundred - and it takes him nearly two hours.

Alex glances at something to his left and his eyes widen.

“Wow, two hours. I guess I just go off on tangents when I think about you.”

The goofy smile tacked onto the end makes Jack smile wider than before.

“There’s you, and you’re all these amazing, amazing things, and then there’s me. Some dumb, whorish asshole who thought it was a brilliant idea to fuck you.”

Jack’s smile falters when he hears that Alex’s voice means he could start crying at any time.

“I don’t even know why I thought that was a good idea. Prime example of dick thinking, not brain thinking I’d imagine. I don’t even know why. I think I was just desperate to see if you felt the same, and if you did, you wouldn’t stop me. I didn’t realize until afterwards that I could hurt you. I really don’t wanna do that.”

Alex’s voice is getting more watery, and more desperate as he goes along.

“And, I’ve never told anyone this, but when I met you, I stopped doing drugs for a while. Because I didn’t feel like I needed them to get through the day, because I’d seen you smile instead. I only started back up because I knew I had no chance of you ever feeling the same.”

Jack’s heart drops to his stomach when he sees a few tears roll down Alex’s cheeks.

“Fuck, don’t cry, Alexander. Don’t cry.”

He wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his cardigan and holds his hand over his mouth. He stares at the camera, brown and honey eyes glazed with a fresh wave of tears.

“Oh fuck it.”

And Alex bursts into tears. His head’s down, and no doubt he’s staring at the floor. He’s making these sad little hiccupping noises from the back of his throat, in between the gentle sobbing that shakes his shoulders.

Alex looks up at the camera, and the little light in the room glints off the tears on his cheeks and makes them all the more visible. He picks up the notebook from before and flips a few pages before holding it up to the camera.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I love you.

Alex sniffles from behind the book and the video cuts suddenly.

Jack sits there and stares at the black screen, heart risen up into his mouth. He quickly changes into something more presentable - jeans and a shirt - before he careers downstairs, on the hunt for his brother.

“Joe!” He shouts, locating him destroying a bowl of cereal at the breakfast bar “Where does Alex live?”

“Across town. Why?” Joe asks, mouth full of cereal.

“No, specific address!” Jack retorts, getting desperate and shifting on his feet.

“15 Carson Street. Why?”

Jack doesn’t even consider answering, because he’s already out of the door and down the driveway.

Joe rises from his seat and follows him to the door, but as he looks out he can see Jack’s shape running around the corner at the end of the street. He smiles to himself; whatever Alex did clearly worked.

Jack’s sweating and panting by the time he reaches Alex’s house. He damn near breaks down the door but pulls back when a woman answers the door. She looks a lot like a smaller, more female version of Alex, so Jack guesses she’s his mom.

“Is Alex home?” He asks breathlessly. She looks him up and down before shaking her head.

“He went out. Said something about the park.” She says quietly, “Should I tell him you called?”

Jack nods and goes to walk away from the door.

“Hey, kid. What’s your name?” She shouts after him. Jack tells her, and she shuts the door without another word.

Jack sighs as he begins to head home.

Well, that didn’t work.

And then it suddenly strikes him that Alex’s mom mentioned him going to the park.

Hell, it’s worth a try.