Status: Complete!

Fix Me, Conflict Me

Make It a Sweet, Sweet Goodbye.

I stepped into my room and slipped my tie off before slumping to the ground, leaning against my door. Burying Tom gave me no closure whatsoever. I think I was still in denial. I felt like any minute now he’d come stumbling up to his room drunk as usual and blast some New Found Glory like no one else in the house was sleeping, or he’d come to the kitchen and snatch the grilled cheese sandwich I just finished making right off my plate, or he’d kick me out of the basement because his friends were over to play video games…

All I could think about was the fight we had last week, the last time I saw my brother alive…

“Ok, Tom, fuck off! You don’t need to talk shit about my band, I get that you hate us! What the hell are you talking about, our parents hating you, Tom? You get all the attention! You’re the oldest! They fucking love you! ” Tom came home drunk yet again. This had been happening for the last month or so, but I had learned that drunken words were sober thoughts… So I was appalled at his words now.

“Shut up, Lex,” Tom slurred, slowly sitting down on a bar stool. “You’re the golden child. I mean, look at yourself – you’re young, you’re in a successful band, and you’re easy on the eyes,” he laughed, taking another swig of his beer. “Let’s face it – they don’t love me. I don’t blame them. I mean, look at me! There’s not much to love.”

“Tom, you cannot be serious. Can you hear yourself? Come on, let me get you to your room. If mom and dad were here, you’d be breaking their hearts,” I scolded, pulling his arm over my shoulder. “Is this still about Ashley?” I asked suspiciously when he refused to budge.

Tom just drank some more beer. “Lex, don’t ever say that whore’s name again.” Ashley broke up with him, and my dearest older brother can't handle rejection very well.

“What the hell is the problem here, Tom?” I sighed in frustration. Sober Tom was never home these days. Drunk Tom was all I ever got to see, and it was only a few nights a week, at that. I missed my real brother. “You come in here, rambling about how much you hate my band, how much my band sucks, how our parents don’t love you, and then –“

Thank god Tom had enough sense to bolt for the bathroom before puking his guts out. I shook my head in disapproval, but rubbed my brother’s back comfortingly. “Lex, you don’t get it, do you?” Tom yelled, shoving me away. “I’m, like, pathetically jealous of you.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“Yep, you heard me right,” Tom groaned, leaning away from the toilet and flushing it. “You’re my younger brother,” he whispered, washing his mouth out and splashing cold water on his face. “I shouldn’t want to be you, dammit!” Tom yelled, shoving me out of the bathroom so hard I fell to the floor. “Oh, shit…little brother, what happened to you?” He murmured the next minute, shuffling over to help me back up to my feet.

“Tom, I think you should get some sleep,” I told him firmly, wincing as I rubbed my elbow.

“I think I need some help to my room, bro,” Tom laughed hysterically, and he dropped the bottle in the sink. I grimaced when I heard it drop. I’d have to clean the broken glass later. Thank god our parents were at the house of some friend of theirs.

Getting a drunk person up the stairs into a bedroom is difficult. Getting a drunk Tom Gaskarth up the stairs into his room is near impossible. He went on and on about the most random things. “Hey, Alex, you remember the time we had that family picnic and I pushed you into the lake?” Tom said randomly.

“Yeah,” I muttered, struggling to open his door and support his body at the same time. “I just wanted to feed the geese, and then they started to attack me…”

“Fuck, that was hilarious!” Tom crowed, laughing so hard. “Oh, hey, do you remember that time you switched out my hair gel for honey? Man, I hated you so hard,” he reminisced.

“Yeah, I remember…Wait, you ‘hated me so hard’? Tom, that doesn’t even make sense,” I laughed. I’d take random drunk Tom over violent drunk Tom any day. I finally got him to sit on his bed. “Besides, that was revenge for setting me up on that terrible blind date with Charlotte Ralston!”

Tom just smiled, his face still flushed from the alcohol as he clumsily took off his shoes. “Hey Lex, where you goin?” he whined when I headed for his door.

“Um, to my room? What else do you need?”

“C’mere,” he waved me over, standing up and pulling his shirt off. “Here you go-o,” he said in a sing song voice. The shirt he was wearing still smelled strongly of alcohol…but I recognized that shirt. It was the shirt he’d gotten signed by every member of Newfound Glory. “C’mon, little brother, take it!” he said, shaking it in my face.

“Are you seriously giving this to me?” I asked in a small whisper, handling the shirt like it was some type of holy relic. Tom just smiled drunkenly at me, giving me a thumbs up before collapsing on his bed. “Thanks, man!” I yelled excitedly, still staring at the shirt in disbelief.

“Love you, bro,” Tom yelled back, raising up a peace sign. “Now shut the fuck up and get the fuck out.”

I nodded and quietly shut his door, too happy with the damn shirt to realize what was happening.


Image

I just wanted to be alone, but there was a knock on my locked door. “Alex?” came my mother’s slightly stuffy voice from the other side. “Alex, love, your friends are here to see you…”

“Can you just… Can you… Tell them thanks for coming, but I really just need to be alone right now,” I sniffled, wiping my eyes dry on my sleeve. I wasn’t feeling up to seeing Jack, Rian, and Zack right now. I didn’t need to hear them tell me to stop blaming myself. I wasn’t listening to them. I was tired of hearing it. “Please, mom.”

When I heard her receding footsteps, I sighed in relief. I stripped off the stuffy black suit and rummaged around in my closet for some other clothes. I settled on Converse, skinny jeans, a brown Hurley tee, and a plain gray hoodie. I sat in my closet, strumming out random chord progressions on my guitar, writing down little verses here and there. Even after about an hour, I didn’t feel any better. I sighed, slipped my phone in my pocket, opened my window, and jumped out onto the roof. After closing the window, I scaled the side of the house and hit the sidewalk. Tom’s room was right across from mine.

I just needed to get away.
♠ ♠ ♠
all of this is fictional of course, save for minor details like the shirt...
i think i read about it somewhere, i can't really remember.
so, first chapter! thoughts? comment/subscribe?
it's just hard for me to write lovey dovey john stuff right now.
my grandma died; not really feeling the happiness...