There's No Place Like Home

Screams echo throughout my mind as I stand on the brightly lit stage, looking out on a crowd full of faceless people. Turning my head, I see four other men on the stage, but they didn’t have faces either. In confusion, I looked at them, trying to make any sense out of this. I felt like I was lost in that crowd, that sea of faceless people, one wave of confusion crashing over onto the next. One of the men looked towards me, screaming into his microphone with words I couldn’t make sense of through my own distraction. I could practically hear the grin on his voice, though the sight of it was masked by the blank canvas of his face. I somehow got the feeling that his smile would be beautiful.

Whatever he said made the still-screaming crowd go wild, jumping in what seemed like anticipation. Briefly, I thought I saw a flash of what looked like a memory: myself jumping in that crowd, looking up to the stage like the people up there were gods. It was gone as soon as it came, and I shook my head as if to clear it. The man who had spoken before was facing at me, his body language screaming confusion. He shouted into the microphone again, but this time I could hear his words—and the tears in his voice.

“Jacky, why won’t you wake up? Please, baby, I need you here, I need you so bad.”

Still, there were no signs of tears on the man in front of me, and I looked down in a sudden guilt. I didn’t know him, but I wanted to wake up for him, whether I was asleep or not. As I looked down, I noticed a guitar in my hands for the first time, and, as if by an instinct, I started to strum a chord.

I was woken up by the first blare of sound through the amps.

Opening his eyes slowly, as if through a fog, Jack slowly processed the sight before him; a plain, white room filled with complicated looking machinery, the only color being the vase full of bright orange and yellow daisies on the table beside him. But beside the table was something else, a chair filled by a man with light brown hair who looked about in his mid-20s. A sobbing man with light brown hair.

Between his cries, Jack could barely make out the man’s soft, clumsy words, “J-Jack, please come back…p-please.”

Unable to comprehend what to do in such a situation, Jack cleared his throat, saying, “Excuse me? Um, sir?”

The way the man looked up, you would have thought he’d just woken up on Christmas morning to find a live pony in the living room. His eyes lit up as if there were stars behind them, and the biggest grin Jack had ever seen split his face. Beautiful, a voice in the back of Jack’s mind said. Quickly clearing those thoughts, he hardly registered the body flying at him and the delighted shout of his name until he had arms wrapped tightly around him and a face pressed into his neck, mumbling about how much Jack was loved by the stranger. Jack squirmed uncomfortably, and plucked up his courage.

“Erm, I’m sorry…but do I know you?”

Jack watched as the man drew himself up, scratching at his arm awkwardly as the stars faded from his eyes. Hit with a bullet of complete guilt that he only mildly understood, Jack held out his hand with uncertainty.

“Um hi, my name is Jack, and you are..?”

Tears filled the man’s eyes, surely clouding up his vision as he stuttered out, “You-you d-don’t remember m-me?”

Jack paused before replying steadily, “No, I’ve never seen you in my life.”

Watching the man’s reaction was almost like watching a slideshow depicting all the negative emotions that the human body was capable of showing. Tears spilled over his paled face and he brought up a hand to his mouth, trying to force back a sob that was desperate to spill out. Instead, a soft whimper filled the room, which was silent apart from the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

“A-Alex? My…my n-name is Alex,” the stranger choked, almost as if he was asking Jack, before crumpling to the floor in a sudden faint.

Jack was curled up on his stupidly plain hospital bed, trying—and failing—to work through the day’s events. After Alex had woken up, in a separate room down the hall, he’d come back and calmly introduced himself to Jack, explaining the how’s and why’s of his stay in the hospital. Alex had said that he wasn’t meant to give an overload of information, but the basics were that he was in a band called All Time Low, and he’d fallen off of the stage, hitting his head hard on a speaker and going into a coma for about 5 months. Alex had described the event with, “Everyone knew you would fall eventually, you clumsy fuck,” before searching his face intently, for offence Jack had assumed.

Soon after, a lady rushed in the room, grabbing his cheeks and kissing them in absolute delight. Alex had pulled her over, whispering in her ear before he let her return. She was introduced as Jack's mother and “the best fucking cook in the world, oh my God.”

Jack just felt kind of distached from the world; he'd just been plopped into a random family whom he remembered nothing about. Plus, just before Alex had left-- he'd been about two steps from the door-- he'd turned around, bit his bottom lip, and said, "Oh, and by the way? I'm, um, your fiance," before hastily exiting the room.

Fiance. Jack was engaged? God, he felt so bad for not remembering anything. Part of him realized that it wasn't his fault, but poor Alex. Still, what a catch. Alex was absolutely gorgeous, he had tousled, light brown hair that fell sideways over his forehead, burnt caramel eyes that seemed to almost melt when their gaze was set on Jack, and pale pink lips, that Jack noticed he bit when he was nervous; not to mention tanned arms that weren't exactly toned, but made it work in the best possible way, and legs that seemed to go on forever. All that, plus he seemed to be genuinely in love with the hospitalized boy, Jack could tell just by the way he stood in the room, it was that obvious. Jack could've done so much worse, but he honestly didn't remember a thing about Alex, much less his supposed feelings for the boy.

Sighing, he turned off his lamp, and gave into the sticky fingers of sleep that held his eyes closed tight, but this time, only until morning.



Jack looked out the window of "his bedrom", noting that everyone he'd been introduced to lately was outside and admiring the New Year fireworks. He glanced at the acoustic guitar leaning up against the wall on the other side of the room. Crossing the room and closing his door quietly, he grabbed it and sat down on the bed. Jack lightly ran his fingers over the strings, and then, without really knowing how he knew what to play, he stummed out a few chords to an unknown song, humming a melody along with it. It was soft and light; melodic and rather beautiful. Soon, he was almost halfway through the song, and was singing along with it, though if he really thought about it, he wouldn't be able to remember the lyrics. Jack was so wrapped up in it that he didn't hear his door open, or hear a person step into the room, or feel them sit beside him on the bed.

Jack looked up abruptly, though not ceasing his strumming, as Alex started to sing along with him, a small but fond smile on his face.

You're just a daydream away, I wouldn't know what to say if I had you.

By the time they had finished the song, Alex had his eyes closed with a grin on his face, and Jack was blushing. Alex opened his eyes, looking at Jack with question in his eyes.

Jack shrugged, answering the unspoken words, "I don't even know, I just kinda knew how to play it..."

Alex had been a sort-of guide for him during the past few weeks. He'd introduced him to all his friends and family, to his band-mates, to his favorite bands' music. Jack could see why they'd been "best friends since kindergarten", he and Alex made similiar jokes, liked the same music, and got along really well. It'd been three weeks, and most of the memories currently in his possession were of the caramel-eyed boy.

Alex let out a halfway sad chuckle, and turned towards the window, as if to look at the fireworks. This angled him towards Jack, their faces barely four inches away from each other. Suddenly, the house erupted into the sound of at least 30 people simultaniously counting back from ten. New Years countdown. Jack was looking at Alex in a kind of shocked stupor, and Alex looked almost as if he was arguing with himself. As the number five was shouted, Alex braced himself and lightly took Jack's chin.

"Please don't hate me," he whispered pleadingly. "Please.."

The number one was shouted, followed by cheers and screams, but Jack barely heard them. Alex had slotted their lips together gently, though Jack could taste the desperation he was feeling. It was almost a perfect cliche: fireworks, cotton candy, the best feeling ever, but then Jack couldn't feel anything. His body felt almost numb, and then he remembered.

The sun was shining brightly, and the smell of freshly mowed grass accompanied the shouts of seven year olds within the air. Jack was on a swing, flying into the air, higher and higher with every kick of his short, skinny legs. Alex was lying near the swing set, in the grass, staring up at the sky as the two boys shared the random banter that only little kids can come up with. But then, Jack lost control of the swing for a second and fell out of it, hitting the ground with a thump. Alex sat up and rushed over, just as Jack started to cry from the scrape his knee had gotten. Alex knelt beside the crying boy and put a soothing hand over his scrape before wiping the tears off his friend's face. "Mommy!" he had shouted, and Jack knew that everything would be all right as long as Alex was there.
***
It had been the first day of middle school, and Jack was insanely nervous. What if none of his teachers liked him? What if the entire school thought he was dumb? He had pulled on the hem of his shirt nervously before heading outside the door to walk to school with Alex. They always met at the bus stop and continued walking together from there. But this time, they would be heading in another direction, towards the middle school in opposition of their smaller, safer elementary school. When Alex showed up at the bus stop, he bit his lip and his hand shot out to grab Jack's, in search for comfort.

"It'll be fine," Jack reassured both Alex and himself with what he hoped was confidence. "Just a new school, right?"

"Y-yeah. I guess so," Alex had stuttered out, gripping Jack's hand tighter as they approached the doors of the school. "Just a new school."
***
Jack was creeping up behind Alex, who was attempting to straighten the collar of his crisp, white dress shirt, and reached out to help his prom date, who had yelped in surprise.

"Hey babe," Jack said, smiling mischievously as he got the collar straight for Alex.

"Dude, don't do that to me," Alex had scolded, but smiled as he did so, and leaned in to give Jack a quick kiss.

Jack linked their elbows as Alex raised an eyebrow, before pulling Alex behind him down the hallway from his bedroom, screaming, "WE'RE OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD, THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ!"

Alex had just laughed, calling him a dork as they headed off, choosing to walk past the bus stop, and past the middle school-- which didn't seem nearly as big as it had before-- to their high school. The night was spent dancing and laughing at stupid things with their friends, adding another amazing memory with each other to their dick-joke filled brains.
***
Jack strummed his guitar one last time, savoring the feel of the music in his bones, and the rush of adrenaline through his veins.

"Thank you, New York!" Alex had shouted and Rian beat his drums as if in agreement with the statement. Jack grinned and shouted one last inappropriate comment towards the crowd before blowing a kiss and exiting the stage. Alex hugged him, though sweat was dripping off of them both, with a grin.

Their band was becoming more and more successful, and it felt absolutely amazing to play shows. There was no better feeling than the music curbing any and all thoughts and making the fans sing and dance, well no better feeling besides Alex's kiss after every show. The kiss Jack was currently deepening, the adrenaline still running through the two boys.

Zack hit Alex on the head playfully, and Jack laughed as Alex pouted and rubbed his head. Jack had kissed the pout right off his face, earning himself a hit from Zack. Turning to chase Zack through the venue, he had laughed, just from pure joy.
***
Jack was in the back garden of Alex's parents' house, lying on the grass, similar to how Alex would do when they were younger. He had absently reached a hand up to trace the shape of a cloud, but that hand was caught by Alex, who had just come outside. He pulled Jack up so that they were standing side by side, surrounded by the bright flowers that Alex's mother had planted. Jack had thought vaguely of when they were nine, and he had come outside to the sight of Alex attempting to paint a white rose bush with a paintbrush that was slick with red paint. They had ended up splashing each other with the paint, of course, and Jack's mom had just laughed when her son came home, holding a rose dripping with paint.

Alex looked over at the bush, as if he was remembering as well before taking in a deep breath and grabbing Jack's hand for comfort. Jack noticed how his other hand was in his back pocket, palm wrapped around something.

"Jack," Alex started, biting his lip the way he always did, "I hope by now you've realized just how much I love you." Another lip bite, a glance over his shoulder, a squeeze of Jack's hand. "You're everything I could have dreamed of, and more. You make me feel like I can do anything as long as I'm with you and by your side. And I-I want to be by your side for a long time, Jacky. No one could ever make me feel the way you do. I want to be by your side forever and paint flowers for you." The last part was said with a small laugh before he finally pulled his hand out of his pocket and held out a ring box, which he popped open. Jack could feel tears coming on as Alex said, with all the hope and light and stars in the world within his eyes as he did so, "Jack, would you marry me?"

Jack whispered, in an almost awe, "Yes," before connecting their lips, tasting only Alex and love.
***
Jack broke the kiss, pulling away from Alex only to whisper, "I remember," kissing Alex again and again. It felt like he'd just come home after being lost for days-- or almost six months.

"I'm home, Alex, I'm here," Jack said, and the caramel-eyed man beside him just nodded, breathless with tears running down his face.

And, God, there was no place like home.