We're Condemned to Death

Alex shouldn’t be here right now.

Not today, but he just can’t stop himself from going there.

It’s the same as it was two month ago, during the funeral—Alex can remember everything about that day clearly as he walks along the stone path, hands in his pockets, and towards the gravestone that marks the final resting place of half of his fucking heart.

What a cliché thing to think, Alex decides.

If he were here right now he’d be laughing over just how gay Alex was for even thinking such a thought. The final resting place of half of his fucking heart. This causes Alex to chuckle lightly.

But then again, if he were here Alex wouldn’t be having to think it to begin with.

This sobers the humor rather swiftly.

Alex brought flowers but he doesn’t really know why. It’s not like they’re really going to be put to use here just lying by a tombstone. Whatever though. They’re bright and vibrant and remind Alex so fucking much of him that he couldn’t stop himself from buying them and bringing them along. With a gentle sigh Alex bends forward, placing them just to the right of the marker.

Afterwards he descends downward, seating himself in a crisscross position just over the grass. It’s a really weird thought to think about—the fact that Alex is currently sitting on the ground right above the body of one of his best friends.

“Hey bud,” it comes out a soft whisper, barely audible, which is fine as far as Alex is concerned considering there’s really no one there to hear anyhow. “It’s been hell up here, you know? Ever since you left us all behind for the good life.” Alex has to stop for a moment in order to control his breathing which he finds is rapidly increasing.

By now he is clenching and unclenching his fists over and over. His hands feel way too clammy as the circumstances of the situation really begin settling into the pit of his stomach.

“It’s weird without you,” Alex mumbles, closing his eyes. If he stares at the name etched on the stone for too long he’ll fucking break down and that’ll be it.

Alex will do it, he knows he will. He knows that he will and it scares the hell out of him if he’s being honest. He should not be thinking like this, not now, but he can’t help it.

He wants his friend back. He just wants to see him again. And it would be so easy to do it. But he can’t because, fuck, now he knows what it feels like to lose someone you love. There’s no way in hell he could ever intentionally put the people he loves himself through something like that by being selfish. There’s already enough grief in their lives right now as it is.

“We have our first show tonight since it happened.” He continues, head turning upwards as he glances towards the sky. “It’s going to be tough without you, but we have to get through it. One last show before we call it a day. It’s really for the fans, you know? You fucking loved every single one of them so much. We’re doing it all,” Alex pauses, reaching forth to wipe at a stray tear along his cheek, “all for you bro. All fucking for you.”

Alex frowns. “The guys didn’t want me to come today you know,” he shakes the fringe from his eyes, “they thought it’d make me too emotional for tonight. But I couldn’t not come. Not tell you about it,” he finishes.

It’s a nice sunny day, Alex thinks to himself as he glances briefly around the cemetery. He would have loved it. Have loved to be home right now, getting ready with them for their one last hometown show.
Fuck.

Alex can’t handle it, he can’t handle any of it—the serenity of the cemetery or the soft glow of the sun cascading down in between the branches of the trees. He can’t handle the beauty of the fall leaves coloring the vibrant green grass.

It’s all wrong.

How can something so peaceful be happening at a place that brings him so much fucking pain?

“I love you,” Alex cries out finally, gasping for breath as the tears finally fall. He’s on his knees by now, body pressed up tightly against the gravestone. “Why did you have to leave us? Why did you have to leave me?” He sobs out angrily, eyes and heart heavy. “I need you so badly. I don’t like anything here without you. I love you, I love you so fucking much and I hate you so fucking much all at once for leaving me. Please come back. Please come back. I would do anything just to see you smile one more fucking time, please. I need you,” he swallow thickly, face now pressed up against the chilly concrete of the tombstone. “Please. You were the best thing that has ever happened to me, I need my best friend. I need you to be here with me.”

--------

“I just want to take this moment to thank you all so fucking much for being here!” Alex is onstage now, shouting into the microphone. They’re four songs in and he’s pretty fucking proud of that fact. And okay, so maybe he’s a little drunk, but only a little. No one’s really mad though because they understand. “Tonight is going to be a good night, alright guys? Let’s make this the best night of our lives.” He continues, his voice thick. Alex takes a moment to wipe at the sweat on his brow. “I want you to put your hands up in the air and go crazy.”

Standing there, just looking at the crowd and the intensity of tonight has his adrenaline flowing like it’s never flown before. Alex has to admit that he’s feeling more than great right now, standing on stage with his best friends, watching the crowd singing along to words that mean everything to him.

Looking back in retrospect, Alex doesn’t really know how the fuck it happens. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the rush of the crowd. It’s conflicting him and confuses him a bit, he supposes. But at the end of the day it does happen.

And if there’s one moment in life he could go back on and erase, other than that night, it would be this fucking moment right here.

Alex is all eyes for a moment as he stands there, basking in the glow of the crowd and the noise. The music has started up, loud and hard, and he is just waiting to make his entrance.

That is when he spots her. Nothing too unusual really, just a random girl in the crowd flashing them with a smirk on her face. Alex can’t help but laugh a bit because it’s never not entertaining when stuff like that happens at their shows.

And that is when he does it.

“Look at that chick!” He grins, pointing her way as he shouts into the microphone. “Jack, you’ve gotta look and see this, you’ll fucking love it!” Alex chuckles, still pointing.

It actually takes him a few seconds afterwards to recognize the newfound sound of silence once the words slip out.

No longer are people dancing and screaming and clapping. Hell, nobody is even fucking moving. Alex is pretty sure he could drop a pin right now and every person in the room would hear it plain as day as it hits the stage floor.

“Jack, you’ve gotta look and see this…”

His words are repeating over within his mind like a never ending metronome.

Alex doesn’t think he’s ever felt so sick in his entire fucking life. He’s standing there, both hands now by his side with the widest his eyes have ever been, as everyone else in the crowd looks up at him, obviously horrified.

There isn’t a soul in the venue who is certain of what to do in this moment and Alex just feels like he might die.

Glancing briefly to his right he spots Matt, his own expression mild horror and guitar hanging loosely off of his shoulder.

Alex doesn’t know why he just said that, why he fucking thought Jack was here on stage with him right now when a mere four hours ago he was sobbing like a fucking baby over his grave.

And that is precisely when it once and for all really and truly hits Alex Gaskarth.

He falls to his knees on the stage, his eyes wide and blurry as he is no longer able to stand on his own two shaking feet. Pulling his guitar off of his frame he tosses it to the side, honestly not caring if it were to shatter into a million pieces. Maybe one will break off and kill him or something.

A feeling like no other he has ever felt before in his entire life overcomes him. The only person who could possibly console Alex right now is the very same man lying six feet under nearly 15 miles away.

“I—” Alex wants to say something—anything—he really does, but no words come out. He’s choking on the silence surrounding the situation, hands clenching so tightly against the fabric of his jeans he may actually tear a hole through them.

And then suddenly Matt is jumping off of the stage and yelling for people to get out while Zack and Rian approach him, wrapping their arms around his shoulders as he fucking loses it.

“It’s not fair,” Alex whispers hoarsely, his head leaning into the crook of Zack’s neck. “I want Jack back, I want him here with us. I want to see him dancing and laughing and smiling and annoying us all with a dick joke. Please, why can’t he be here?” Alex sobs out frantically, his breath coming out in short, scary gasps. “I want Jack. I need him. I fucking need Jack please.” He’s pleading by this point as his hands reach out to grab blindly onto Rian’s shirt, tugging and holding tightly.

“It doesn’t work like that, Alex” Rian whispers back and Alex can tell by the grit of his tone that he’s crying as well. “I wish it would so fucking bad but it doesn’t.”

“Why not?” Alex cries, already knowing the answer but his heart voices the question aloud anyway.

“Sometimes bad things happen to good people,” Zack whispers, voice choked. Alex nods numbly.

“And sometimes terrible things happen to the best people in the entire fucking world.” Rian agrees, arms and body still pressing into Alex and Zack on the floor of the stage.

“He shouldn’t have died,” Alex hiccups out, his voice almost completely gone by this point. “He shouldn’t have, it’s not fair.” He can feel Zack nodding against his head, his own body shaking against the smaller boys. “I love Jack, he’s been my best friend for my entire life. I don’t know how to live without him,” he cries; face crestfallen as the tears continue to roll down his cheeks. “Please give him back to me, please. I would give anything.”

Rian and Zack glance momentarily at each other, both of their own eyes brimming with tears. If there is one thing they’re sure of, it’s of that very fact. They both know that, if given the opportunity, Alex would get in that car and die instead over and over and over again for all of eternity if it meant giving Jack his life back.

“Sometimes terrible things happen to the best people in the entire fucking world.” Alex echoes sniffling, repeating Rian’s statement once more. “But why my world? Jack was my world—is my fucking world. Why did ‘people’ have to be my Jack? My world?”

“I don’t know Alex,” Rian sighs resentfully, his own heart aching within the confines of his chest. “I just don’t know.”

“Come on,” Zack interjects, wiping a wet trail along the right side of his cheek. “Let’s get you home buddy, it’s been a rough day.”

And Alex nods numbly. He’s not entirely there anymore and seemingly looking on at the scene from a distance while vaguely feeling both Rian and Zack poking and prodding, pushing and pulling, until he’s resting in Zack’s arms as they walk for the exit.

But he doesn’t remember too many of the details.

Alex is too focused on the memories of that place and that stage and how Jack never looked more alive than he did when he was there, standing right there to the left of the back door, with his guitar in hand and smile on his face.

And then he thinks about how Jack will never look alive or happy or sad or angry ever again. He thinks about how Jack will never stand there again and play his guitar. Alex finally remembers that he will never get to see Jack again.

The drive home from a venue has never been full of such silence.