Come Alive

"Are we dating?” Alex’s question hung in the air like some toxic gas.

“What?” All motion in Jack had stopped.

Alex forced out a shaky breath and pulled harder at his light colored bangs, “Nevermind. So... food?” Alex could hit himself. Was Jack not pushing Alex into this conversation? Had he read Jack’s motives wrong? Were they actually dating?

“No, wait, Alex...” Jack sat back on the couch and crossed his legs in front of him, “...Are we dating?”

Alex was tugging so hard at his hair he was starting to feel a few strands being pulled loose, “Uh, what? Who.. What?”

“Sh, Alex.” Jack leaned forward and took Alex’s hands away from his hair, “Let’s talk. Breathe first.” He smiled as he pulled Alex’s body closer to his on the couch. “Do you want to date me?”

Alex’s breathing was out of rhythm again. Who the hell was this jackass coming into his life and making him more nervous than the twelve year old boy asking his first girlfriend out for a group date to the movies. “Well, I mean, who... why... I don’t... maybe... do you want to... date... what?”

Jack was laughing, why was Jack laughing? Who was Jack to laugh? Alex pushed his lips together and turned away from the man sitting in front of him. Alex wasn’t going to lay himself out there to be laughed at. He was Alex fucking Gaskarth for God’s sake and he wasn’t about to be emotionally torn down by some brain damaged fuck up.

Some brain damaged fuck up with the deepest brown eyes he’d ever seen. Some fuck up with the most penetratingly joyous laugh he’d ever heard in the world. Some brain damaged asshole who somehow managed to drag Alex into this world of pure happiness no matter what pile of shit the day had shoveled for them. Some brain damaged fuck up that Alex really, really, with everything in him, wanted to date.

“Don’t laugh at me you asshole.” He was still pouting, hoping it would get the point across better to Jack that he really wasn’t okay with it.

Jack smiled, “So I’ll take that as a yes?”

Alex stared at him.

“Well would you look at that, I’ve somehow managed to get me a boyfriend.” Jack laughed again and pulled Alex into his lap, “And a pretty darsh-gone cute one at that!”

“I fucking hate you, Jack Barakat. So fucking much.” Alex shook his head but ended up kissing Jack anyway. “Can we eat now?”

***

Dinner was fast, it was uneventful, and Alex was home and in bed by 9.

He just had to be up early tomorrow to talk to his team about the tour.

He had to cancel the tour.

Or at least postpone it.

/u feelin alrite?/ The message from Jack lit the whole room up.

/yeah. i’m just really tired. and i really want to get out of this tour./ That was it. That was the only reason Alex ditched his newly formed boyfriend at 8:30 on a Thursday night.

/oooooookkkkkkkk alex. do me a favor and call ur mom 2morro?/ Jack’s typing was something Alex was going to have to work on.

/i’ll be up early, text me when you’re awake. we can get lunch or something. goodnight xoxo/ So they’d been dating for nearly four hours. Everything was okay. Alex was okay.

He was just drifting off when his phone vibrated again. This time, a phone call from his ever-so-loving management team. It was 9:30 at night, surely they could wait until tomorrow.

They called again.

“What the fuck do you want now?” Alex said into the dark confines of his bedroom.

“Somebody’s in a good mood!” Female voice. There were three females on his team. Stacy? Trudy? Amanda? Krystal? Becky?

Alex had no idea.

“So a little birdie told us, well me--I’m the only one here right now--, that you want out of your first headlining world tour. Are. You. Fucking. Nuts.”

Alex sighed. Maybe he was nuts.

“Alex, listen to me. I’ve known you for, what? Two years now? Have I ever steered you wrong?” The nameless woman’s voice was dripping with so much fake sugar Alex could almost feel himself getting sick. “Hun, babe, love, listen to me. This tour is worldwide. People--fans--from across the globe have already bought millions of tickets just to see you from half a mile away at the back of a huge stadium. You’re going to make millions! I’m going to make millions! Well. No, maybe not millions. But, I mean, I am the only one working overtime this week... I’m sure that would earn me a raise, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m hanging up now.” Alex warned as the woman lost herself in a small money-driven tangent.

“Wait! Wait, Alex. What’s this about? Why don’t you want to do this? Is it your family? Is it your friends? Is it your album sales? Because, I mean, your album can’t be #1 every week.”

“Goodnight, you.” He hung the phone up and threw it across the room, not really caring if it cracked or not.

It wasn’t being away from his family that was making this tour so unlikeable. It wasn’t being away from his friends--he barely had any friends to be away from. It sure as hell wasn’t album sales keeping him away from the one thing he’d ever dreamed of.

It was the fact that he’d be doing it alone. It was an "Alex Gaskarth! Live in concert!” sort of tour. It was him, alone, on stage, with his touring back up band and whichever opener the team had settled for.

It was an Alex Gaskarth tour, not an Alex’s band tour. And that bothered Alex. It bothered him more than anyone else on the world would ever understand--especially his bandmates back in Baltimore.

Plus the fact that he’d be away from quite possibly the only person to ever like him as Alex, not Alex Gaskarth, since before the band started, was not making this tour any easier.

There was no way Alex would be sleeping tonight.