Alex is Straight

When Alex awoke this time, he was in Jacks arms. He wasn’t naked and he wasn’t drunk… but he was in Jacks arms and that was enough. He glanced around Jacks familiar bedroom; he hadn’t been here for months. His eyes swept over every detail, taking in everything that was Jack. It wasn’t much, the fluffy white bed facing the medium sized flat screen TV. There was a closet to the right of the TV and Alex could see that it was thrown open with clothes everywhere. Undoubtedly from when Jack had been packing; leaving the job until the night before they left.
There was a bathroom too, the door was open. There was a small black box sitting on the counter with a small, silver razor sitting on top with a couple bandages to the left. He noticed a small bit of blood on the mirror which was angled down. He had probably hurt himself while shaving, Jack was so clumsy. Alex looked to his right to focus on said boy. He noticed that he was actually laying on Jacks chest. He straightened out and pulled his fingers through Jacks soft hair. He watched his eyes move underneath his eyelids and his mouth twitch into a smile. He watched his chest rise and fall evenly and slow, he took in everything. He even noticed that one of his eyebrows was thicker than the other. That’s also when he noticed that he had been crying. There were tear stains on his shirt and his eyes stung slightly.
Alex swallowed and looked down. He was such a faggot, a fucking pussy. His heart sank with the memories of last night. It was all coming back.
He quit All Time Low.
He fucking quit the only thing he had to live for… besides Jack. He looked at Jack again, he was only bringing him down, turning him onto a faggot like Alex. He was ruining him, where was the crazy, way to rowdy Jack he knew and… loved? This wasn’t Jack, he had changed him. Jack didn’t fall in love; he wasn’t weak enough for that.
Alex squeezed the bridge of his nose. He slowly inched out of bed and down the stairs. Something smelled wonderful. He decided to wander into the kitchen, take a quick look then leave. He had to fix this… or… he didn’t even know what he’d do, disappear?
He wished he had just left. There was a cake on the counter, covered by a semi-clear dome of white plastic. Alex stared at it… was that for him? He walked over to it, unsure. He decided to take a peek. Lifting up the lid, he smiled. It was a circle, maybe two layers and sleek with brown, chocolate icing. There were little cut up strawberry pieces all along the edge and sprinkled on top. In the middle Jack had written three words in pink icing.
“I love you.” Alex felt arms around him as a warm body was pressed into his back. Alex looked down and pulled Jack off of him, turning around to face him.
“No, Jack. No you don’t.” Jacks frowned, latching on to Alex’s wrists.
“Yes, I do. I really, really do Lex… I have for a while…” Jack blushed slightly and looked at Alex sheepishly. Alex sighed.
“No, you don’t… you can’t… I’m leaving, Jack.” Jack let go of Alex’s wrists and looked at the floor. He turned away and walked out the front door. He didn’t head home. Instead, he walked to a nearby park and called their tour manager. He picked up imeadetly.
“So, you’re back in the band, right?!” His voice was high and whiny as if he was about to tear his own hear out.
“Yeah… hey, quick question, why doesn’t Jack like being alone…?” Matt took his time responding. He heard him breathing softly on the other side of the line.
“Actually, I’m not sure… I actually thought it had something to do with that movie he’s obsessed with. Home, home…”
“Home alone…?”
“Yeah! That one!” Alex sighed, that can’t be right.
“Do you think you can pick me up?”
“Urm… sorry Alex, I’m really fucking busy okay? Go bug Jack or something.”
That meant he had no choice, he had to go back. When he finally got back, the house was quiet. Alex tiptoed into the kitchen, no Jack. The cake was still there, untouched. Next, he tried the living room before silently making his way upstairs. He tried the bathroom and guestroom and everywhere else, saving the bedroom for last. He didn’t find him. He pulled the door open slowly, not wanting to disturb a potentially sleeping Jack.
He wasn’t in the bed. He checked the closet; maybe he was hiding? No… the only place left was the bathroom. He crept over to the door and gently placed his hand on the doorknob. He took a deep breath, he wasn’t sure why but he just went with it. The light was off inside. He slowly pushed down on the doorknob, spilling it slowly and pulling the door open. As the light flooded in, it cut strips of white against the darkness. Alex pulled the door slowly, letting the light remain small and consentrated in the room. He peeked through the crack.
Where was Jack? Alex pulled the door the rest of the way open, frustrated that he couldn’t find his friend. Then he saw him. He was in the bathtub. His eyes were closed. He wasn’t moving. Alex took a step forward and gasped… now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen Jack naked for a long time… He was covered in scars. The majority of them were thin, pink and clustered in groups. Some were long and deep and scattered all over his body. The water was pink around him.
Alex couldn’t believe it… they had been friends for years. Sure, Jack had been depressed but he had gotten over it… right? They had gotten really famous after that, never having to use the same showers again. Jack had never really liked to swim so no one ever really noticed when he stopped swimming with them. Alex knealt down next to the bathtub. He surveyed his friends body… then it hit him. Last night, Jack begged him not to leave him alone… not to leave him. He told him that he loved him and carried him home. He told him not to hurt himself. What did Alex do? He left him.
Alex cursed himself as it sunk in, Jack had cut deep and it was all Alex’s fault. He just hoped that he would be okay… he started searching for a pulse.