Winter

Jack’s phone was vibrating incessantly in his pocket, but he ignored it.

For the fourth time.

“Shouldn’t you answer that?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow. “They’re just gonna keep calling.”

“It can wait,” he assured him. Without looking to see who was calling him over and over, he put his phone on silent and shoved it back in his pocket. Jack had his priorities: he was on a date with his amazing boyfriend; anybody else—no matter how many times they called—would just have to wait. “So anyways, I’ve heard the mushroom burgers here are really good, if you wanna try something different.”

“Who needs new experiences?” he asked sarcastically. “How about the grilled tofu and squash, which the menu says is a complete protein.”

“You picked the restaurant!” Jack reminded him, picking up on the mocking tone. He mimicked Alex’s voice and repeated what he’d said earlier, “‘Let’s go somewhere weird,’ you said. ‘I’ll close my eyes and pick somewhere,’ you said. And here we are.”

Alex was going to offer him a perfectly-crafted retort, but he glanced under the table to see that Jack’s pocket was lighting up. Again. Whatever it was must have been urgent. “Are you sure you don’t want to answer that?” Don’t get him wrong, he loved having Jack’s undivided attention, and since it was only one week before they went back on tour, he wanted to make the most of the time they had to themselves, but he hated the feeling that he was keeping Jack from something potentially important.

“Positive. Alex, it could be Mark Hoppus and I’d make him wait.”

“I’ll hold you to that one day,” Alex joked, relaxing and glancing at the menu.

——

Jack tossed his phone to the floor near his bed. He’d forgotten about all of the missed calls and texts and voicemails. “Move over,” he said to Alex, who was staying at his house as usual. Everyone wondered why they didn’t just move in together, since they never slept apart. They didn’t have an answer to that question.

Alex was already almost asleep, so he mumbled a quick “I love you” as he scooted over to give Jack just enough room to lie down.

He smiled and crawled into bed, arms automatically winding around Alex. “Love you too, Lex.”

The phone rang again in the middle of the night.

Jack didn’t answer it.

It went off two more times before he felt Alex shifting next to him. “God damn it, Jack,” Alex muttered, fumbling around, searching for the phone in the dark. When he found it, it was ringing for the fourth time. “What the hell do you want, Rian? It’s fucking four in the—oh god.”

Jack tuned out the conversation and was just about to fall back asleep when he heard Alex start to cry, the sound muffled by his hand. He sat up slowly. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, sliding off the bed and onto the floor next to his boyfriend. “What happened?”

“It’s Zack,” Alex choked. “H-h-h-h-he, he…” He couldn’t say it, just stuttered over the words he couldn’t bear to say out loud, because that would make it real.

“He what?” Jack knew it had to be bad; Alex was usually so good with words, even the ones nobody wanted to hear.

Alex shook his head. His voice wouldn’t work. He could feel his throat closing up as he cried, burying his face in Jack’s shirt and wordlessly handing him his phone.

Jack called Rian. “Alex can’t talk. What happened?” He didn’t know why he was whispering. It wasn’t like there was the possibility of waking somebody up.

And Rian told him why he’d called so early, gave him the details of a story he wished had never been told. He crashed at Zack’s place after they’d gone out drinking. He’d woken up in the middle of the night really thirsty, so he’d gotten up to get some water. When he flipped on the light in the kitchen, there was Zack, sprawled out on the floor. There was an empty bottle of pills next to him. He called 911 and did all he could, but he was already gone.

Jack hung up without saying goodbye and put the phone down, not sure what to do or say or feel. He held onto Alex tight, like he was a life raft and without him, he would float away. And he just might. One of his best friends had just committed suicide out of the fucking blue. No warning, no hint that he was feeling that way. Just all of the sudden. It was a cliché thing to think, the kind of thing friends and family always say/think after a suicide, but Zack always seemed so happy. Why did he do this?

They didn’t say anything, just stayed like that until the sun rose and light started peeking through the dusty blinds. “What do we do?” Alex asked brokenly.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.” Once would have done it, but he didn’t know what else to say and the silence was becoming unbearable. The empty, soundless room was suffocating him. He had to do something.

“Is this real? Or am I going to wake up and find out that this is just a nightmare?” Alex sounded so hopeless.

Jack didn’t answer him, just pressed his face into Alex’s hair, breathing in the scent. It made him feel a little better, but not much. “Why? Why did he do this?”

“I don’t know,” Alex murmured. And like Jack, he had to say it again. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Alex’s phone rang from across the room. He untangled his limbs from Jack’s and answered it. “Hullo?” Jack watched him nod and mm-hmm a few times without saying much else. It must’ve been Rian. “We’ll be over there soon.” He walked back over to Jack, giving him a hand to help him up. “Apparently your phone’s dead; he said he tried to call you first.”

That was the furthest thing from Jack’s mind at the moment. He wiped the tears off his face and out of his eyes. “Where are we going?”

“Zack’s house. Rian wants to look for a note.” Even though he was upset, Alex couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Typical Rian, always wanting the answers.

“Already?” Jack yelped. Wasn’t it a little early for that? He blindly reached into his closet, pulling out the first things his hand landed on and yanking them on. His appearance didn’t really matter today.

“The sooner the better, I guess. No use prolonging the pain. His words.” Alex didn’t even ask to borrow something to wear. They didn’t define what belonged to either of them anymore, just shared all their clothes. It was more convenient.

Alex was still crying, so Jack drove to Zack’s. He’d swallowed back the tears, but who knew how long that would last? He would break again, and soon. But for now, someone had to be the anchor that kept the group grounded. Rian was inconsolable and Alex was almost as bad off.

“It’s my fault,” Rian cried, sifting through more of Zack’s belongings, searching for a note or a letter or a post-it or something that could’ve been a clue as to his reasons, because nobody does that without giving a fucking reason. “I was with him. I should’ve noticed something was wrong, but he was just so normal. He didn’t act differently or anything.”

Jack patted his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Ri. You were here last night, but we’ve all seen him lately, and none of us noticed anything different.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed. “Don’t blame yourself. It won’t do any good.”

Jack sat on the floor, leaning against the door. They were all avoiding Zack’s bed. “Are you sure he left a note?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t he? We’re his best friends…even if he didn’t warn us, surely he would’ve given us an explanation.” Closure. That’s what Rian wanted. It’s what they all wanted.

But after another hour of picking his room apart, it was apparent that there was no note. Alex even looked through his laptop to see if he had a file saved, like a first draft or something that he hadn’t finished. A rough draft of a suicide note…he chuckled to himself at the thought. The noise sounded wrong in the setting, so he stopped almost as soon as he started.

“I’ve gotta go call his parents,” Rian said, his voice clear and sob-free for the first time that day. “Nobody’s told them yet. Oh my god, this is gonna be awful.”

“We need to get going anyway,” Alex decided, grabbing Jack’s hand. “Tell the Merricks that, that we’re sorry…” The idea of talking to them terrified him, and he was glad Rian was the one to do it. He had a way with words; he’d know just what to say to them.

When they were back home, neither knew what to do with their time. They weren’t hungry; the thought of food just made Jack feel sick. Sleep was out of the question, too. They had to find something to keep them occupied. So for perhaps the first time ever, they willingly made the decision to clean.

And not just on the surface. They cleaned every inch of the house, even inside the oven and the fireplace and under the couch. They did all the laundry, reorganized the fridge and the cabinets, replaced the broken tiles on the bathroom floor, finally scrubbed the stains out of the carpet, scraped toothpaste off the bathroom ceiling from when they had a drunken toothpaste fight months earlier, and actually took the vacuum cleaner out of its box.

They didn’t stop until the inside of the house could’ve been in a magazine. “I think Paula Deen would be proud,” Alex declared, nodding approvingly at the pristine condition the living room was in.

“Um, why would she be proud?” Jack asked before barking out a laugh. “You mean Martha Stewart?”

“Yeah. That one.” It was good to hear Jack’s laugh, a comforting sound amidst the sadness. “Look’s like your phone’s charged,” he pointed out, gesturing towards the corner.

Jack crouched down and unplugged it. The screen lit up and Jack’s eyes widened. He had seventeen missed calls, fourteen voicemails, and twenty-nine texts. Besides the calls from Rian, all of them were from the same person. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no,” Jack said, already panicking. He stood up. “I need to go listen to these,” he told Alex, not giving a further explanation.

They were all from Zack.

He put the phone to his ear and started listening.

“Hey Jack, I know you’re busy right now, but is there any chance you can talk? Call me back?”

“Jack, I really need someone to talk to. Please call me when you get a chance.”

“I hate to keep calling you because I know you’re out with Alex, but please…I’ve gotta talk to someone about this.”

“I can’t tell anybody else. Rian wouldn’t understand. I really have to tell you something. It’s important.”

They were all pretty much the same. Zack was getting more and more hysterical with each voicemail, until the last one. His voice was dead calm, which was worse. “Um, listen, sorry about calling so much. Guess I went a little crazy. Anyways, I don’t know if you’ve seen all those texts yet, but if not, those will explain everything. Again, I’m sorry. I hope you know I love you guys so much. Bye.”

That was it. That was the last time he would ever hear Zack Merrick’s voice. He’d ignored his calls the entire night, and look what happened. Fuck. His eyes were swimming as he started to read through the texts. A few of them were from Alex and there were a couple from Rian earlier yesterday, inviting them to go get drinks with him and Zack. But then he found Zack’s texts. And as much as it hurt, he read them.

By the time you read this, I’ll probably already be dead. Whoever found me, probably Rian, tell them I’m sorry. But I had to do this. This was the only way. I just can’t seem to find any reason to be happy anymore.

I didn’t leave a note or anything. This wasn’t a sudden decision. I’ve been thinking about it for a few months now…I just needed the final push over the edge to do it. Something to get my courage up and remind me why I want to do this. Calling you was what made that decision for me.

Please don’t blame yourself, because it’s not your fault. I called when you were with Alex because I guess I knew you wouldn’t answer me. I don’t blame you for that, and you shouldn’t either. But I know you and I know you’ll blame yourself and I know that what I’m about to tell you won’t make it any better, but I have to get this off my chest.

Do you know what it’s like to love somebody that doesn’t see you that way? No, of course you don’t. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been in love with Alex and he loves you back, maybe even more. You guys have been together for so long; you’re perfect together. But before you started dating, while you were just pining for the blonde kid in our history class, you didn’t notice me looking at you the exact same way as you look at him. I don’t even know why I’m finally telling you this. I’ve felt this way for ten years and haven’t said anything.

But it’s killed me a little more every day, Jack, watching you be in love with someone else and knowing that I’ll never get that from you. There’s just this feeling of overwhelming insignificance that I’ve never been able to shake, not since high school when I realized how I felt and then right after that, I realized that I’m not up to your standards. I’m not Alex. I’m not good enough.

That’s not the only thing. Don’t worry. There were a lot of other factors that played into it, but if I’d wanted to go into detail about the reasons behind this, I would’ve written a note for somebody to find. But I just had to tell somebody this secret before I go.

I love you guys so much. If there’s an afterlife, I’ll see you all again someday. Goodbye.

Jack was screaming, the sounds coming out of his mouth unfamiliar as he put his face in the pillow and screamed some more.

Alex rushed in. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He wondered if the reality of the situation had finally set in for Jack and he was just now breaking down. Then he noticed the phone on the bed next to him. He picked it up and read the messages. “Oh god. Jack…” What could he say? He put his hand on Jack’s arm.

“It’s my fault.” He turned his head so he could face Alex. “I fucking ignored his calls when he needed me and then this happened and it’s all my fault.”

“Jack, it’s not your fault!” Alex insisted.

“How can you say that? You read what he said. Why didn’t I notice? Why didn’t I answer. Oh my god. This is my fault. It’s my fault he’s dead.” Jack kept crying and Alex could only stroke his arm lightly, running his fingers across the warm skin.

Beneath his sadness, Alex felt a little angry at Zack. Why would he tell Jack that now? All it did was make him feel guilty, which wasn’t fair. Yes, he’d ignored Zack’s calls, but damn…that just seemed so harsh. But it was difficult to stay mad at Zack at this point., so the feeling was fleeting.

This time, Jack was the one that asked, “What do we do?”

Alex laid down beside him, propping his head up on his elbow. “I don’t know.” Tears were stinging his eyes again. “Fuck, Jack, I don’t know what to do or what to say or anything.”

“Me neither.”

Rian called the next morning to tell them the funeral arrangements. He passed along the Merricks’ message: they hoped Jack and Alex were doing well and thanked them for their concern.

Alex said he’d tell Jack, who hadn’t said a word since last night. He was still crying, and Alex was sure he hadn’t slept at all, just curled up and kept crying through the whole night. “Jack, Rian called,” he said softly. “The funeral is this Saturday.”

Jack nodded.

Alex sighed and left the room. He made a plate of pancakes and forced himself to eat for the first time since his and Jack’s date. He was usually starving after just a few hours without food, but it had been a day and a half and he wasn’t even hungry. He brought some to Jack, who was still laying in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, in the hopes that he would eat at least a little.

And then he called Rian and they made a decision together. So with a heavy heart, he tweeted a link to a new post on All Time Low’s website, explaining that, yes, the rumors about Zack were true and that the tour would have to be postponed and ticket sales would be refunded shortly. He said he hoped they understood.

Almost immediately, hundreds of concerned fans were saying sorry for their loss, asking about memorial shirts, and mourning Zack’s death. A few people jumped on and called them selfish for not going ahead with the tour and even used the line what would Zack think? It was all too much. Alex logged off and checked on Jack. The pancakes were uneaten.

Three days later, the day of the funeral, Jack still hadn’t eaten anything. “Please, Jack, please,” Alex begged. “If you keep this up, this whole not eating or sleeping thing, you’re gonna die too and I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jack mumbled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and feeling dizzy.

“Even if you’re not hungry, just eat something. Please. I’m worried about you. I know you feel guilty, but that doesn’t mean you can just stop caring about yourself.”

The look in Alex’s eyes was what made Jack accept the blueberry muffin he offered. Admittedly, it was really good, but Jack just didn’t feel like eating. He didn’t feel like doing anything. All of the normal things—eating, sleeping, talking, showering, even breathing—they all seemed so hard now. “I’m not going,” he said between bites, hoping Alex would know what he meant.

He did. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I can’t do it, Lex.” His voice broke. “I can’t go and see everybody there crying about him when I know that I could’ve stopped it.”

Alex didn’t argue. He kissed Jack’s cheek, whispered “I love you,” and then left.

While Alex understood that Jack couldn’t go to the funeral, Rian, who didn’t know about Zack’s texts and phone calls, didn’t quite get it. “How can he not be here?” he hissed angrily as they took their seats. “Zack’s one of our best friends!”

“It’s complicated,” Alex mumbled.

He returned to Jack’s house to find that Jack wasn’t there. There was a sticky note on the counter.

I had to go out for a while. I’ll be back soon. I love you to pieces, Alex. -Jack

Alex didn’t go to his own house; he practically lived with Jack anyway. But Jack didn’t come home that night. Or the next. At first, Alex was concerned. Had he gotten hurt or lost? But as the days slipped past, he realized that Jack just needed time to think; he would’ve heard by now if something bad had happened to him.

Still, it would’ve been nice to have somebody to wake up to, somebody to cuddle with at night. Someone to keep away the loneliness and the misery.

It was a full two weeks before Jack showed up in the middle of the night, shivering in a short-sleeved T-shirt. “You’re home,” Alex said quietly, pulling him into his arms.

Jack said two words. “Memorial show.”

The next time Rian called, Alex filled him in on the idea. He wasn’t too keen on it at first, still pissed at Jack for not showing up at Zack’s funeral, but he eventually agreed to it.

They worked up a set list, and on the one month anniversary of Zack’s death, they played a free show in Zack’s memory. It was emotional, with all three of them trying to keep from crying. The fans weren’t bothering keeping it in, and even from the stage, they could see tears glistening on the faces. Some of the fans had traveled from across the country and other parts of the world to get to Baltimore for this.

“This last song,” Alex said. “Isn’t one of ours. It’s by our friends in Bayside. This is for you, Zack!” he shouted.

Jack mindlessly played his guitar, listening to the words Alex sang.

When winter falls next year, I’ll be holding on to anything nailed down.

There was nothing nailed down enough to keep him grounded. What would he do when it had been a whole year, when he’d had time to heal a little? Would the wound just open again and all of the pain would be fresh? Or would he start to get over it, little by little? Did he even want to get over it?

As for being patient, with fate and all, it's getting old. And my mind is slowly changing.

There was a point when Jack believed in fate, but now the idea of if made him want to throw up. If this was fate, then what the fuck was the point of it? Zack’s fate was to die so young, at twenty-fucking-five? What the hell kind of fate was that?

I’m calling all my oldest friends, saying “sorry for this mess we’re in.”

One of Jack’s three oldest friends was gone. And he hadn’t spoken to Rian since before the funeral. He knew Rian was mad and that he should apologize, but what could he say? He glanced at him, and Rian gave him a sad smile and mouthed I’m sorry. Jack nodded. He was sorry too. For so many things.

And I’m waiting, waiting for the sun to come and melt this snow, wash away the pain, and give me back control, control.

Jack felt like his life was spinning out of control. Everything was frozen over. He wanted winter to end, wanted the sun to come out and make things warmer…when spring rolled around, would he improve? He had to get happier sometime, right?

An angel got his wings…

If there was a heaven, surely Zack would be there. He hadn’t done anything wrong; he was a good person…

And we’ll hold our heads up knowing that he’s fine.

He wasn’t fine! What the hell was that supposed to mean? Fine would be if he’d gotten food poisoning and went to the doctor and they said you’ll be fine in a couple of days, don’t worry. Zack was gone and it was Jack’s fault and he wasn’t coming back and he sure as hell wasn’t fucking fine.

We’d all be lucky to have a love like that in a lifetime.

Anybody would be lucky to meet someone like Zack. He was a great friend, a wonderful person…why the fuck did he have to go?

Should we still set his plate, should we still save his chair, should we still buy him gifts? And if we don’t, did we not care?

Those were the questions nagging at Jack, at all of them. Were they supposed to continue like he was still there, or was that just another way of denying that he was dead? When his birthday rolled around, did they buy him presents?

It makes you think about the life you’ve led, shit you’ve done, things you’ve said. And it’s grounding, grounding.

Jack had done some thinking, but it sure as hell wasn’t grounding. He’d never felt less grounded in his whole life. He felt lost, like one wrong turn and he’d end up in Antarctica.

There were a lot of things he’d never said, things he kept inside. Maybe it was best to say things, because you never know when you’ll be left wishing you’d told somebody something. And he definitely needed to apologize to Rian for real, or at least say something. They were still best friends and they couldn’t just stop speaking.

I’ve been feeling three feet tall this month, hardly indestructible.

That summed it up perfectly, actually. Jack felt completely destructible. He could fall to pieces at any second.

But the snow melts, and the rhythm still goes on.

Would it, though? Would there come a day when he wouldn’t wake up feeling like there were icicles in his chest, twisting and turning and stabbing?

An angel got his wings and we’ll hold our heads up knowing that he’s fine.

Jack had to stop thinking that Zack wasn’t okay. Even if there wasn’t a heaven of any kind, Zack would live on in all the lives he touched. They wouldn’t let his memory fade away. In a sense, he was still alive and still fine.

We’d all be lucky to have a love like that in a lifetime.

Zack loved all of them so much, right? They were lucky to have had a friend like him, even if only for such a short time.

Friends, stay side by side. In life and death, you’ve always stole my heart.

They needed to stick together. As Zack’s best friends, they owed it to him.

You’ll always mean so much to me. It’s hard to believe this.

Zack would always mean so much to Jack, to all of them. There would probably never come a day when he didn’t miss him. It was still hard to believe he was gone.

But Jack suddenly realized that even though Zack meant a lot to him, he couldn’t live this way, just going through the motions of life. That’s not the way Zack would’ve wanted it.

These nights in vans, these nights in bars, don’t mean a thing with empty hearts, with empty hearts.

He’d had some of the greatest times of his life with Zack and these guys he was on stage with right now. They were the best friends he’d ever had, and nobody could ever take those memories away from him. They were only twenty-five; hopefully the rest of them still had decades to keep making fanfuckingtastic memories together.

An angel got his wings and we’ll hold our heads up knowing that he’s fine. We’d all be lucky to have a love like that in a lifetime.

As Alex finished singing, Jack set his guitar on the stage and lunged for the microphone. “I, I have something I want to say. It’s been a really tough month on all of us. Zack was one of my best friends, and then just like that, he’s gone. It’s really hard to deal with. But I’ve learned a little this month, and I want to share some advice with all of you. Don’t hold on to anger, because in the long run, there’s no point.” He turned to Rian. “I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s cool,” he responded, finally understanding that Jack was hurting just as much as—if not more than—he was.

He faced the crowd again. “I’ve also learned this: never pass on an opportunity to tell somebody that you love them. You never know when it’s the last time you’re ever going to see somebody, so for god’s sake, tell them. Call your parents and siblings and grandparents and friends and just remind them that you fucking love them.” He breathed in shakily. This was the first time doing this in front of so many people. “Take me and Alex, for instance. We’ve been together for years and I don’t think I’ve said ‘I love you’ more than four times since Zack died. But I want every one of you to know that I’m fucking crazy about this guy. I’m so in love with him, it’s ridiculous.” He lowered the mike and whispered in Alex’s ear, “I love you.”

Alex smiled and said, “I love you too.” He stood on his tiptoes to kiss Jack, to the delight of the audience they’d all but forgotten about.

We’d all be lucky to have a love like that in a lifetime.