When It's Broken

"So who exactly are we going to go on tour with?" John asked, looking over at his bandmate curiously.

He hadn't seen his friends in over two weeks and since that little run in, if you could even call it that, with Tim, he felt like he should go see his bandmates. Which lead him to where he was now, sitting in the bassist of the band's living room, drinking beers and watching the highlights of the baseball game.

"I think their name is You Me At Six? Right, Pat?" Jared responded, cracking open the two beers in front of him and handing one to the singer.

John grabbed it from his hand before glancing to see Pat nodding. "Yep, there from the U.K., I'm pretty sure."

John nodded, focusing his eyes on the television in front of him, though baseball was far from his mind. It seemed that the only thing on his mind for the past six months was her, and the closer the band got to tour, the more she was there. She was supposed to come along on this tour, her and her band. They were going to open for them, though John always stold her that The Maine should be opening for them.

It wasn't a secret that John was probably, if not, her band's biggest fan. There was nothing he loved more than watching her up on that stage; it seemed to be the only time she was ever truly happy.

"John?"

John blinked, eyeing his friend in front of him. "Yeah?"

"We're gonna go to the bar. Are you coming?" Jared asked.

He nodded before grabbing his coat and following his friends out the door. He blew out a breath, reminding himself not to drag his feet and to stand up straighter. Just because he was heartbroken didn't mean the world had to see it.

The five bandmates piled into the red car parked in the driveway, laughing and telling stories during the drive. But when they pulled up to the building that was their favorite bar, the car grew quiet.

"What? What's everyone staring at?" John questioned, looking around from the backseat. He watched, confused as the four guys around him turned, blocking the windowshield from his sight.

"Nothing, why don't we go home? I'm not feeling up to drinking anymore." Garrett suggested, though John wasn't buying it. He wasn't an idiot. Someone was obviously there, and he wanted to find out who it was.
Ignoring the pleas of his friends, he pushed open the car door and got out. He glanced around before he stopped in his tracks. His hands felt sticky all of a sudden, and he wasn't entirely sure if he could remember how to breathe.

And just like that the shock within him turned red hot as he clenched his fists. "John." Kennedy warned.

"That son of-" John began mumbling as he stalked over towards the entrance.

"John. What a nice surprise. I guess you finally made it out of your house, then?" Before he could even think about what he was doing, John could feel his knuckles searing with pain as they made contact with the bone in the man in front of him's face. He brought back arm to hit him again and again and again. He couldn't feel anything except for his hand nor could he hear anything but the sounds of skin on skin contact.

"You asshole! How could you do that?! How! Do you have any idea what you did?!" He screamed, yanking the man from the ground and pulling him by his shirt.

"John! Let him go." He heard Jared say from behind him as Kennedy and Garrett attempted to pull him back.

"You think you're high and mighty because you got away with it.But you're nothing but a coward. A coward who preys on the weak." John growled.

"If I'm a coward, what does that make you, huh? I'm not the only one who did something John. At the end of the day, you're the one she ran away from John, not me." John let his hand collide with the man's face one more time before allowing his friends to pull him away as the weight of what was just said fell deeper onto his shoulders.