Breaking Barakat

It was only 7 in the morning when Jack walked downstairs, all clean from shower and dressed up, prim and proper for work. He caught a sight of his adorable boyfriend rushing in and out of his bedroom still in his pajamas, before settling next to the dining table, face-to-face with the angel of his dreams, Alexander William Gaskarth.
“Morning, babe,” said Jack, smiling as Alex planted a kiss on his lips, pulling him closer and closer, their tongues intertwining and his hand slowly caressing Jack’s hip. He let out a harsh cough, before backing off and losing his breath, stumbling all the way back into Jack’s arms. Jack caught the older man just in time before he hit the ground, panting in his lover’s loving embrace, trying his best to breathe. “Lex, are you okay?”
Alex nodded. “Yeah. I…I just…God, what the fuck was that?”
“Holy shit. I didn’t know making out with me could kill your lungs,” Jack chuckled. “This is ridiculous, man. You’ve been coughing for like, what, two months now? There’s no such thing as a normal flu that goes on for more than two weeks. You’re going to the doctor today, okay?”
“Okay,” sighed Alex. “What did you cook for breakfast this morning?”
“Meth. Duh.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. Bacons and eggs, as usual.”
Soon, the two had their eyes glued on the TV screen, eating their bacons and eggs. Alex squinted his eyes at the sight of a group of policemen raiding an RV, one of them none other than his friend Rian Dawson who was in the D.E.A.
“Isn’t that Rian?” asked Jack. “Or does that dude really look like Rian?”
“Sergeant Rian Dawson and fellow policemen have found 250 g of crystal methamphetamine in the RV—“
“He’s doing a great job,” commented Alex. “Crystal meth, dude.”
“I wonder how much that shit costs,” said Jack as he turned to look at the clock. “Oh, fuck, I’m late! Hey, babe, do you mind if I go to work now?”
Alex shook his head. “Bye, Jackie.”
“Bye, angel. Love ya!” Jack said, running to his car.
On his way to school, blasting Blink-182’s All The Small Things in his car, Jack couldn’t help but think of his boyfriend’s sickness. What if it’s something serious? But then his mind wandered to the money those meth dealers could’ve got. Not that Jack wanted to be a drug dealer too. He knew how to make meth. But he wouldn’t do it unless it was necessary and he really had to.
He got off his car in front of the school campus, waving to every student he met. His students knew him as Mr. Jack “Coolest Teacher in the World” Barakat. He always swore in class and he frequently partied with his middle school students (who were only ten years younger than him). No wonder if they all smiled when Jack entered the classroom and started writing on the whiteboard.
“Stoichiometry,” said Jack. “Does anyone know what that word mean?”
Jack shook his head, realizing that no one knew what it meant.
“No shit,” he laughed. “Okay. I want you guys to take a look at this.”
The rest of the class period continued with various experiments done by Jack, creating a look of amusement on everyone in the room. Jack had never thought he would be teaching 15-year-olds chemistry after college. He thought he’d be a real chemist, but reality had to kill his dreams. He really had to resort to teaching naughty pre-teen boys how chemicals and matter worked. He never wanted this, but it was necessary.
What else was necessary? Working as a part-time cook in a Mexican restaurant owned by the Fuentes brothers. Jack had always enjoyed working there. Mostly because Tay—Taylor Jardine, his and Alex’s high school crush—also worked there. The beautiful waitress never failed to get him on his knees. Not in the way Alex did, of course. There’s no way I can be with her. She’s so perfect and I’m hopeless, Jack thought.
The air felt so humid that afternoon. Jack could barely stand the heat in the kitchen. He would always have his eyes on Tay, moving from table to table, collecting orders, while Mike walked around the kitchen, doing nothing but looking at Jack from head to toe. Jack never liked Mike. That bossy little prick also had his eyes on Tay. Not that Tay was his anyway, but he just didn’t like Mike.
That was when his phone rang. An unknown number appeared on the screen. Jack usually didn’t take calls from people who weren’t on his contact list, but the same number had called him over and over again that day. “Hello?”
“Good afternoon, Sir. Your housemate Mr. Alex Gaskarth has been found unconscious at work and is now under our care at Baltimore Hospital.”
Alex? Unconscious? Cold sweat started to run down his skin. Jack pictured his lover fainting against the floor. Fuck! This couldn’t be good. “Okay, I’ll…go there now. Thank you.”
“Hey, Jackie,” said Mike. “Can I, like, talk to you for a second?”
“Don’t call me Jackie,” Jack hissed. Only Alex can call me that, bitch.
Mike cleared his throat, putting his cigarette down. “From now on, I don’t want you anywhere near that hoe over there. Okay?”
“Don’t you dare call Tay a hoe,” Jack hissed. “Don’t you fucking dare. I’ll cut your dick off if you ever call her a ‘hoe’ again. Mark my words, you prick.”
Laughing, Mike threw his cigarette to the ashtray. “Right. Like you can actually castrate someone.”
“Fuck you, Mike,” sighed Jack.
“What?”
“Fuck off.”
“Can’t hear ya over the sound of my dick rubbing against her!”
That’s it. That was enough. Jack had enough of Mike’s shit and he wouldn’t let him get away with this. “I said FUCK YOU! AND YOUR EYEBROWS!” Jack yelled, his finger pointing at Mike as he walked out of the restaurant.
*
“You understood what I just said?”
A nudge by Alex’s elbow brought Jack back to life. “Oh, sorry, Doc. I just kinda spaced out a little. I’m sorry, what did you just say?” asked Jack, although he knew what the doctor just said. And it was tearing him apart.
“Inoperable, stage 3, terminal lung cancer,” the seemingly too-young-for-a-doctor Dr. Elmakias repeated his diagnosis.
“Cancer. Inoperable. Yes,” Jack whimpered. “So, what treatment do you suggest?”
“Anything that doesn’t involve hair loss?” asked Alex. “Please? ‘Cause…look…I just…I don’t wanna get bald.” …like you, Doctor, thought Alex, staring at the doctor’s cleanly shaved head.
Jack sighed. “Jesus, Alex. You have cancer and all you think about is…your looks? Your looks don’t matter to me, babe. I wouldn’t care if you went bald. Really, though. I wouldn’t.”
“But…please, Doctor, is there any other treatment that works and doesn’t involve any hair loss?” asked Alex once again.
“Well, I’m afraid we’ll have to put you on…this new drug we just got fresh outta the lab,” Dr. Elmakias said with a youthful smile on his face.
“Fresh? You mean it hasn’t even been approved by the—“
“Yes,” said Dr. Elmakias. “We tested it on an old woman a few months ago and her condition is slowly improving. So, is it a yes or a no?”
“We’ll take that. How much does it cost?”
“One hundred dollars per fifty milligram. You’ll need about 250 mg every day. Side effects include feelings of malaise, kidney failure, all kinds of infection, and nausea. Works better than chemo, though. Trust me.”
Jack nodded. “Okay.”
“Well, that’s it then. I’ll see you again on Monday, ‘kay?” asked Dr. Elmakias.
“Okay. Thanks, Doctor.”
“You’re welcome.”
Right after they arrived home that evening, Alex turned on the TV and sat on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the screen, unlike Jack’s, wet with tears and fixed at the sight of his dying lover. “Oh, Alex,” he sobbed.
“What?”
“Why the fuck are you acting as if nothing just happened?” Jack sobbed, cracking his voice in the middle of his sentence. “Lex! Look at me!”
Turning away from the TV, Alex couldn’t help but notice a tear on his boyfriend’s cheek. Shaking his head, he rose up from the sofa and walked up to the blond-and-black-haired Lebanese young man, his fingers swiftly wiping the tear away, pulling the younger one into a soft hug.
“Hey, calm down. Calm down, babe,” Alex whispered soothingly.
“What am I gonna do when you…when you…” Jack hesitated to say the word he knew he wanted to say. “Am I gonna calm down? Am I? Huh?”
“Goddamn it, Jack, just…”
“Don’t ‘goddamn it, Jack’ me!” Jack sobbed.
“Is it about the money?” asked Alex. “It is, isn’t it? Maybe treatment isn’t the way to go. Maybe I should just…die already.”
Jack groaned in frustration, holding his lover closer. “No, Alex. Please don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that, you little shit. No.”
“What if all your money’s wasted on me, Jack?” asked Alex. “It’s better for me to give up rather than have you live in fucking poverty. You’ll hate me when I get better. You will.”
“Alexander William Gaskarth, I’d rather spend the rest of my life living in a ghetto, slum area than lose you,” Jack held the older man’s face closer to his. “Even if you give up, there’s always be that one person who won’t give up on you. And that person is me. I love you, Alex. I love you.”
“I love you too, Jack. But what if I never get better? What if I…die…and you’re forced to live the rest of your life in the streets without me?”
“Look, Lex. You mean a lot more than just…money, or anything else in this world. Who cares about anything or anyone else when I can have you, or at least try to save you?”
But maybe, there is another way. Maybe we won’t have to live in poverty, thought Jack, his eyes wandering towards the TV. Rian again. “Hey, babe, look, it’s Rian again.”
“As usual,” sighed Alex.
“He’s more of a local celebrity than a cop now,” Jack forced out a laugh. “God. Those drug dealers again? Crystal meth again? Shit, bro.”
“He’s a cop, what do you expect?”
“I still wonder how much that shit costs.” From what he knew, meth scientists made tons of cash.
“You’re not gonna cook meth now, are you?” Alex joked.
Jack shook his head. “Nah.”
Although he knew that was one of his sweet little lies, one he could hide just well.