‹ Prequel: Weightless
Sequel: Situation Overload ›
Status: in progress
Always
Caraphernelia
"Hey Alex!" Vic, Alex's younger half brother, greeted over the phone.
"Hi Vic, what's going on?"
"Not much, it's pretty boring not having you around. And it sucks cause when me and Mike hang out mum makes us "play" with Tom too, and he's like too young to get it. You know?" Vic and Mike were in year 10 now, and Alex got on with them, especially Vic, really well, after all, he could relate to their year 10 dramas. "You?"
"Ah yeah, but when you're older you'll be thankful you were good brothers to him. Just because he's younger doesn't mean he's not cool. And well, you'll never guess who I ran in to." Alex replied wisely.
"Who??"
"Jack. We started dating again, but I think we want different things. I'm not quite sure what to do." explained Alex.
"Woah. Shame, but if it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be." Vic shrugged.
"True."
"Anyway, so, I remember you used to write songs, like that one with Dan and Tay? And like me and Mike have some friends at school, Jaime and Tony, and we kinda made a band, but at the moment we only do covers, and I'm nervous about showing them the stuff I've written.. I was wondering if I could sing some to you?" Vic confessed.
"Yeah go ahead, I won't judge. I swear." Alex tried to be helpful. Jack was the first person he'd shared his music with, and he remembered it being quite a big deal, and he was flattered that his younger brother came to him first.
"'What if I cant forget you?! I'll burn your name into my throat I'll be the fire that'll catch you. What's so good about picking up the pieces?'" Vic sang, and Alex was at a loss for words. It was so individual, so different; special. Let alone the lyrics. How the fuck did a fourteen year old come up with that? It was incredible. Vic was going places, Alex was sure of it. And he could only hope his band were good enough to get him there.
"Holy mother of fuck."
"What? Was it shit?" Vic questioned.
"It was immense. I've never heard anything like it, and it was so beyond awesome. Just, woah. If you don't become a singer, I'll actually murder you myself." Alex warned, completely serious. "But I have to go out now, we've got this event with work tonight, and I'm meant to be bringing Jack, so I need to go and make up with him, even if it is just for the night." Alex explained, matter of factly.
"Alright man, thanks about the singing thing, talk soon, love you bro, miss you."
"Love you too, and look after Tom, alright!?"
Alex changed into his skinniest pair of blue skinny jeans, and put on a smart, white, button down shirt that he didn't tuck in. He figured he had a better chance of winning Jack over if he looked good. He was right, to be fair.
He had a few hours before he needed to be at the event, his colleagues referred to it as a party, but come on, a bunch of university lecturers? Wild night ahead. Alex had only really made one friend amongst the other lecturers, and his name was Nick Santino, they hadn't spoken much, so they weren't really friends, but he's the only one Alex felt was friend potential. He taught music, which probably explained why Alex got along with him, and he was always singing, wherever he was. He'd told Alex he used to be in a band called Rocket to the Moon, but they'd never really had much success, so they'd split up about 5 years ago.
Alex was only a few minutes away from Jack's apartment block. Alex was growing slightly nervous about speaking to Jack again, fears of rejection and having to show up to the party alone swum around in his mind.
The last thing Alex heard was a car horn sounding from his left as he crossed the road and then nothing. Blackness, emptiness, pure nothingness.
Jack's phone rang, the caller ID was withheld, and so Jack answered, thinking it might be someone from the office or something.
"Jack Barafag?"
"Um..Yes?"
"We currently have Alexander William Gaskarth under our care, he's been in an accident, your saved number was on his speed dial. We are headed to Chicago state hospital, and we assume you are of some importance to this man, and would appreciate you getting there as soon as possible." and the line went dead.
"Is this a fucking joke? It's gotta be some sort of sick joke. Of course it's a joke. It's not a joke. Who would joke about this? Not Alex. It's not a joke. Why can't it be a joke? What if it is a joke? IT'S GOTTA BE A FUCKING JOKE!" Jack yelled, punching the wall, making little effect on the wall, but a sharp pain was sent through his thin hands. He tried again, he kept trying until he got a fucking hole in the wall, and then he screamed. He didn't know what to do.
"Jack honey are you alright?" Valerie asked, leaning into the doorframe at his bedrooms entrance.
"ALEX IS IN THE FUCKING HOSPITAL"
"Alright, so lets get you to the hospital then, so you can understand what's happening." Valerie responded calmly.
Jack sat in the passenger seat of Valerie's car, clutching his throbbing hand, it was bleeding a little, around the knuckles, and Jack knew there would be bruises there soon enough, and fuck he couldn't move his wrist if he tried.
Jack was trying so hard to not think about all the what ifs, but he couldn't stop himself, even Blink 182's Blowjob wasn't taking his mind off of it. What if Alex was dead.
Dead.
Not meaning to sound like a twat here, but the word had a fairly obvious sense of finality to it.
Dead.
Not alive, just dead.
'Alex' and 'dead' were two things Jack never wanted to say together in one sentence, unless it was "Alex is drop dead gorgeous", because that was true, and now that there was a possibility of things coming to a total end, Jack wished he'd said it more often.
As soon as Valerie had the car parked, Jack was sprinting towards to hospital entrance. He ran to the reception desk.
"Hi Sir how can we help you? Would you like us to take a look at your hand?" the nurse with a too-square-face and a too-small-mouth greeted him, with a smile plastered on her face.
"I'm not here for my fucking hand. My boyfriend was in an accident, Alex Gaskarth, and I got a call. Let me see him, now, fucking now goddammit!" he pounded his fist on the counter, regretting it immediately, groaning at the unbearable pain that shot up his arm, a tear formed in his eye.
"Sir we need you to relax, you can't see Alex just yet, they're trying to determine his state. You won't be allowed to see him for at least an hour-"
"SO WHY DID YOU FUCKING CALL ME THEN??" Jack shouted, Valerie stepped forwards and put her arm around him and he leant down into her, cursing every profanity in the book.
"Sir, if you could just calm down. We've got enough time to get your hand looked at whilst you wait, so we may as well. Come with me and we'll get it sorted." The nurse replied, and Valerie took Jack by the other hand, and lead him behind the nurse to get his hand fixed up.
"Hi Vic, what's going on?"
"Not much, it's pretty boring not having you around. And it sucks cause when me and Mike hang out mum makes us "play" with Tom too, and he's like too young to get it. You know?" Vic and Mike were in year 10 now, and Alex got on with them, especially Vic, really well, after all, he could relate to their year 10 dramas. "You?"
"Ah yeah, but when you're older you'll be thankful you were good brothers to him. Just because he's younger doesn't mean he's not cool. And well, you'll never guess who I ran in to." Alex replied wisely.
"Who??"
"Jack. We started dating again, but I think we want different things. I'm not quite sure what to do." explained Alex.
"Woah. Shame, but if it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be." Vic shrugged.
"True."
"Anyway, so, I remember you used to write songs, like that one with Dan and Tay? And like me and Mike have some friends at school, Jaime and Tony, and we kinda made a band, but at the moment we only do covers, and I'm nervous about showing them the stuff I've written.. I was wondering if I could sing some to you?" Vic confessed.
"Yeah go ahead, I won't judge. I swear." Alex tried to be helpful. Jack was the first person he'd shared his music with, and he remembered it being quite a big deal, and he was flattered that his younger brother came to him first.
"'What if I cant forget you?! I'll burn your name into my throat I'll be the fire that'll catch you. What's so good about picking up the pieces?'" Vic sang, and Alex was at a loss for words. It was so individual, so different; special. Let alone the lyrics. How the fuck did a fourteen year old come up with that? It was incredible. Vic was going places, Alex was sure of it. And he could only hope his band were good enough to get him there.
"Holy mother of fuck."
"What? Was it shit?" Vic questioned.
"It was immense. I've never heard anything like it, and it was so beyond awesome. Just, woah. If you don't become a singer, I'll actually murder you myself." Alex warned, completely serious. "But I have to go out now, we've got this event with work tonight, and I'm meant to be bringing Jack, so I need to go and make up with him, even if it is just for the night." Alex explained, matter of factly.
"Alright man, thanks about the singing thing, talk soon, love you bro, miss you."
"Love you too, and look after Tom, alright!?"
Alex changed into his skinniest pair of blue skinny jeans, and put on a smart, white, button down shirt that he didn't tuck in. He figured he had a better chance of winning Jack over if he looked good. He was right, to be fair.
He had a few hours before he needed to be at the event, his colleagues referred to it as a party, but come on, a bunch of university lecturers? Wild night ahead. Alex had only really made one friend amongst the other lecturers, and his name was Nick Santino, they hadn't spoken much, so they weren't really friends, but he's the only one Alex felt was friend potential. He taught music, which probably explained why Alex got along with him, and he was always singing, wherever he was. He'd told Alex he used to be in a band called Rocket to the Moon, but they'd never really had much success, so they'd split up about 5 years ago.
Alex was only a few minutes away from Jack's apartment block. Alex was growing slightly nervous about speaking to Jack again, fears of rejection and having to show up to the party alone swum around in his mind.
The last thing Alex heard was a car horn sounding from his left as he crossed the road and then nothing. Blackness, emptiness, pure nothingness.
Jack's phone rang, the caller ID was withheld, and so Jack answered, thinking it might be someone from the office or something.
"Jack Barafag?"
"Um..Yes?"
"We currently have Alexander William Gaskarth under our care, he's been in an accident, your saved number was on his speed dial. We are headed to Chicago state hospital, and we assume you are of some importance to this man, and would appreciate you getting there as soon as possible." and the line went dead.
"Is this a fucking joke? It's gotta be some sort of sick joke. Of course it's a joke. It's not a joke. Who would joke about this? Not Alex. It's not a joke. Why can't it be a joke? What if it is a joke? IT'S GOTTA BE A FUCKING JOKE!" Jack yelled, punching the wall, making little effect on the wall, but a sharp pain was sent through his thin hands. He tried again, he kept trying until he got a fucking hole in the wall, and then he screamed. He didn't know what to do.
"Jack honey are you alright?" Valerie asked, leaning into the doorframe at his bedrooms entrance.
"ALEX IS IN THE FUCKING HOSPITAL"
"Alright, so lets get you to the hospital then, so you can understand what's happening." Valerie responded calmly.
Jack sat in the passenger seat of Valerie's car, clutching his throbbing hand, it was bleeding a little, around the knuckles, and Jack knew there would be bruises there soon enough, and fuck he couldn't move his wrist if he tried.
Jack was trying so hard to not think about all the what ifs, but he couldn't stop himself, even Blink 182's Blowjob wasn't taking his mind off of it. What if Alex was dead.
Dead.
Not meaning to sound like a twat here, but the word had a fairly obvious sense of finality to it.
Dead.
Not alive, just dead.
'Alex' and 'dead' were two things Jack never wanted to say together in one sentence, unless it was "Alex is drop dead gorgeous", because that was true, and now that there was a possibility of things coming to a total end, Jack wished he'd said it more often.
As soon as Valerie had the car parked, Jack was sprinting towards to hospital entrance. He ran to the reception desk.
"Hi Sir how can we help you? Would you like us to take a look at your hand?" the nurse with a too-square-face and a too-small-mouth greeted him, with a smile plastered on her face.
"I'm not here for my fucking hand. My boyfriend was in an accident, Alex Gaskarth, and I got a call. Let me see him, now, fucking now goddammit!" he pounded his fist on the counter, regretting it immediately, groaning at the unbearable pain that shot up his arm, a tear formed in his eye.
"Sir we need you to relax, you can't see Alex just yet, they're trying to determine his state. You won't be allowed to see him for at least an hour-"
"SO WHY DID YOU FUCKING CALL ME THEN??" Jack shouted, Valerie stepped forwards and put her arm around him and he leant down into her, cursing every profanity in the book.
"Sir, if you could just calm down. We've got enough time to get your hand looked at whilst you wait, so we may as well. Come with me and we'll get it sorted." The nurse replied, and Valerie took Jack by the other hand, and lead him behind the nurse to get his hand fixed up.