A Beautiful Lie

It wasn’t like I set out to fall in love with Jack, but it happened anyway. I couldn’t say that I regretted it either because seeing him smile and laugh during shows was the best part of my day.

When I first realised the reason I felt butterflies if I so much as glance at him was because I loved him, I freaked out. I spent a lot of time – when we weren’t playing shows – thinking about why I had fallen for my best friend. There were a lot of eligible boys, why did I have to go for Jack?

Whenever Jack kissed me on stage in response to the fans yelling about ‘jalex’, I was always simultaneously thrilled and horrified. On one hand, Jack had kissed me, but on the other, I always almost said ‘I love you’ to him. And it was like those three words were constantly bouncing around my brain, from the back of my mind, where I could just about ignore them to the very tip of my tongue, where I’d almost say them to Jack.

Now was definitely the latter. Jack was prancing around, shirtless despite the drizzle and holding a can of beer in one hand. I let my eyes trail slowly down his back while I took a drink of my own beer.

“Hey Alex!” Jack shouted, running over to me and pulling me into a warm hug.

“Jack,” I said, shrugging off my denim jacket, “You’re gonna get a cold. Put this on.”

As he did as I said, a warm feeling that had everything to do with looking after Jack and his hug coursed through my veins. I smiled when he had it on. It was just that bit too small for him, but it didn’t matter, it would keep him from getting cold. Hopefully. Even if his bare chest was still visible, which was calling for my attention. I refused to give in though, instead, I dragged Jack back into the bus.

***

We were having a party on the bus, which to me meant watching Jack as he got steadily drunker as the night went on. I stayed pretty sober, only having a half a dozen beers and no Jack Daniels.

“Lexy…” Jack slurred, falling on to me.

“Hey Jack,” I said, smiling despite myself, “D’you wanna go to bed?”

He shook his head violently, “Don’t make me.”

The slight buzz I’d had at the start of the evening had almost worn off, so I could remember that we had an interview at some point tomorrow.

“Jack, we’ve got an interview tomorrow.” I said, hoping that would get him to co-operate with me.

“We have?”

I nodded, “C’mon. Let’s go.”

I shifted Jack off my lap and then hauled him up, getting his arm around my shoulder easily enough. Then I slowly walked him back to his bunk, being mindful of the crap on the floor and the way Jack stumbled across clear patches of floor.

When I got him to his bunk, I laid him down, careful not to bang his head. I did that once and Jack woke up with a massive bump on his forehead the next morning.

“Night Jack.” I whispered.

The only answer I got was a quiet snore from Jack. I sighed and then got into my bunk opposite him.

***

The next morning, I was woken up by the sound of someone retching in the bus bathroom. I got up to find out who it was, taking note that Jack’s bunk was empty save his sheets.

Cautiously, I stuck my head through the doorway.

“Jack?”

He replied from his position of crouched over the toilet, “Hey Lex.”

“You hung-over?”

“Yep.” Was Jack’s answer just before he began to be sick again.

“I’ll go and get some aspirin and some water.”

As I went to the small kitchenette, I noticed that some of the crew members were awake, all looking worse for wear. I smiled, I bet they were regretting drinking the amount of alcohol that they had done. I rummaged around for the tablets, got a cold bottle of water from the fridge, and then went back to Jack.

“I’m back.” I said lowly, aware that Jack’s head was probably hurting. I passed him the tablets and the bottle of water.

Watching as Jack drank some water and took the aspirins, I asked, “Movie day?”

Jack nodded, “Movie day.”

***

As I sat through Home Alone for the hundredth time, I thought that maybe it was ok that Jack didn’t know I loved him. Maybe it was enough to just be there for him and help him when he asked for it and when he didn’t.

Maybe through actions I could show that I loved the skunk-haired man.

I would be ok.

I would.