Stomach Flu

The band was due to be on stage in approximately 10 minutes and Jack was nowhere on the bus or with the rest of the band, effectively causing Matt to practically have a panic attack before yelling at Alex for not keeping an eye on him.

“How is this my fault Matt!? You’re the one who’s meant to be in charge!” The second Alex yelled it, he regretted it. After all, Matt had a hard enough time looking after a band pretty much made up of hyperactive three year olds in the bodies of adults.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Alex tried to concentrate on being helpful. “I’m sorry. I’ll go find him.”

“No need.” Came a voice from behind them. “Right here and ready.”

Alex nearly winced as he turned round to look at Jack. Matt just shook his head, shooed Alex away, and dragged Jack to the side -presumably to check he was going to be able to play without puking over the front row.

---

Playing live never got old. Alex loved it all; the lights, the noise, the screaming fans. It was a real reminder of why they pushed themselves so hard to produce music, tour constantly, and basically live for their fans.

Only tonight he could barely enjoy it. He was too worried about Jack. Despite being reassured that the younger boy was fine to play so long as he took it easy, Alex couldn’t quell the nagging feeling telling him to take care of his best friend.

They got through three songs before disaster struck. They’d just finished the final notes of Stella and Alex was gearing up for some light bantering with Jack.

Or at least he was before Jack tore his guitar over his head and ran off stage, shoving the instrument at Colussy as he left.

“Looks like Jack’s had to go sort out his boner for me.” Alex joked, trying to set the crowd at ease. More than a few of the fans looked worried and he knew he had to be reassuring. “It’s fine anyway, we don’t need him. Pretty sure a gorilla could play better than that dickfucker.”

It took about five minutes (five long minutes in which Alex told many dick jokes and threw bras at Rian) for Jack to reappear on stage, pale and sweaty, but thankfully the lights on stage could easily mask that from the kids.

Thankfully the rest of the show went on uneventfully. Almost the second the last chords to Dear Maria had been played, Jack was practically being shoved off stage by an over protective Alex.

Once the pair were away from the dimmed lights on stage, the extent of Jack’s illness seemed magnified by the harsh illuminated lighting. Matt quickly joined them and blanched at the sight of Jack.

“Shit, man are you going to be okay? We still have an hour and a half drive to the hotel.”

“I’ll be alright, just-” With that Jack lurched in the direction of the bathroom leaving a stressed Matt and panicked band members in his wake. Sighing, Alex followed him.

Stepping cautiously into the bathroom, Alex winced at the choking coughs echoing in the small space. He leaned against the wall, running his hand through his hair until Jack emerged. If possible, he looked even worse than before.

Alex didn’t say a word, just passed the younger boy his water bottle before pulling his shaking body in for a hug.

“Come on. Bus, then hotel, then sleep. It’ll be over soon.”

Jack didn’t respond, just pushed his face into Alex’s neck tiredly. It took all the vocalists willpower not to just pull him closer and stroke his hair in comfort. Instead, he settled for gently tugging on Jack’s arm to pull him into the direction of their bus. Once they got on it, hopefully Jack could pass out and feel better when he woke up.