Oh, Calamity

Hmm… what to wear? The band got home from tour a week ago and we haven’t seen each other since then, so we’re going out tonight to a bar to have a few drinks and catch up. Well, it’s probably going to end up being a bit more than a few drinks and some chatting, but who cares.
It’s six o’ clock and Jack is coming to get me at seven, so I grab a black collared shirt and a pair of my tidiest jeans. I jump in the shower and hurriedly wash my hair, and when I get out I blow-dry, straighten and spray it into its usual style. Some people say I pay too much attention to my appearance for a guy, but whatever.
I pull on a pair of black and white Converses and I’m just rolling up my sleeves when I hear the doorbell ring. Jack. I grab my keys, phone and wallet and rush to the door with possibly a little too much enthusiasm for someone who is just greeting a friend.
“Hey,” says Jack, giving me a lopsided grin. He looks good tonight. He’s wearing a grey t-shirt with a black leather jacket, a pair of jeans and a black and white checked scarf, and his hair is straightened and sprayed into its usual spiky style that I love. I feel a strange flutter in my chest that I can’t explain when I see him, but I just brush it off as nothing. “Ready to go?” he asks.
“Yeah, man,” I say, grinning back at him as we head outside.
We get in Jack’s car and start chatting excitedly about the night for a few minutes and how good it’s gonna be.
“Hey, um, Alex?” Jack says after a while. “I just wanted to ask about how you’ve been doing. I mean, after that last show of the tour. What happened out there, man?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. I know I’d been fine the whole tour, but something was just different that night. I don’t know. I’m okay, though. Really.”
Jack didn’t seem to believe me. I haven’t had an anxiety attack for ages now, and especially not one on stage.
“Are you really okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with worry.
“I don’t know,” I said after a pause. “I’m just… scared. If these attacks have started again, how am I going to go out on stage every night? How are we going to continue the band?” I ran my hands over my face.
“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Jack said, giving my hand a squeeze that made my heart give a weird jolt. “We can work past it, we have before.”
I nod, reassured. Jack is the only one who can make me feel better about my panic attacks, the only one who knows how to deal with them and the only one I can say anything to.

Rian and Zack are already there when we get to the bar, sitting at a table in the corner. They wave and call us over and we quickly order some beers and go to sit with them.
“So,” says Rian. “What’s been happening guys? It’s been a week.”
“Not much,” replies Jack. “I’m staying at my parents’ house, just playing video games.” We all roll our eyes at that; Jack’s always too lazy to find a place of his own. “I’ve caught up with a few friends though. Remember Jeffrey?” We spend a while chatting about which old friends we’ve seen lately and which parties we’ve been to, because that’s what we’ve mostly been doing. Rian and Zack have girlfriends so they’ve also been spending a lot of time with them as well as catching up with family. I’ve visited my parents and been to a few get-togethers.

A few hours later all the small talk is done and we’re all hammered and partying hard. I’m pretty sure the employees here are going to kick us out soon. I look over from where I’m dancing and see Jack dancing very intimately with a blonde, scantily-clad young woman. I feel a pang in my stomach. Am I… jealous? No, I can’t be. I mean, I am bisexual, but it’s Jack. We’ve been best friends for years, I couldn’t have a crush on him. Could I?
I turn around and head towards the bathrooms, and when I get there I run my hands through my hair and look at myself in the mirror. “I don’t have a crush on Jack,” I tell myself. I can’t have a crush on Jack. He’s my best friend, people don’t have crushes on their best friends. It’s just the alcohol making me feel like this. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s straight. I don’t have a crush on Jack. However, my stomach refuses to unclench itself.
Someone enters the bathroom at that moment, startling me. Speak of the devil. It’s Jack, a look of concern etched across his face. I’m the only thing that can cause him to look like that; he’s usually so cool and making fun of everything. My stomach gives another unwanted lurch.
“Alex, are you alright?” he says. “I saw you come in here, I thought something might be wrong.”
“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” I lied with a smile. “Just checking my hair.”
“Ah, cool,” he said, his usual cheeky smirk returning as he came to stand beside me and check his hair too. “I think we’re both set, bro. Come back out and join the party.” I nod and smile weakly as I follow him back out.
“So, um, who’s that girl you were dancing with?” I can’t help myself.
“Oh, no one,” he says airily with a wave of his hand. “Just some chick, I don’t even know her name. I think she left after I ran after you.” A wave of relief crashes over me and I hate myself for it. Dammit, why do I have to fall for the guy who I’ll never have a chance with?