The Red String

Word Count: 3,934

Alex Gaskarth was nobody. Just another face on this planet of misery. Just another blot on a map, to fast to be wanted, not bright enough to be noticed. With all the destiny and, “one day you'll find your true love Alex, just wait,” crap, he really didn't give a fuck. He's sick and tired of waiting for something that will never happen. His so-called 'Soul Mate', could be on the other side of the fucking planet and not even speak English for Christ's sake, and he would never even know because he's too-goddamn poor to go and look for it. It's not that Alex wanted to be poor, but his parents kicked him out after he got too close to the wrong person, and his String burned him. Now he's looked down upon in society because once you've been Burned; there's no going back. Now it was a faded pink scar forever marked upon his pale left wrist; and there was no going back.
So what if he's stumbling to his feet off his secondhand couch at 3 PM, he's fucking hungry. If he's lucky, they'll be dry cereal or maybe some stale bread leftover in his cupboards (which have never been full in the history of Alex). The only real redeeming factor about Alex is that he manages to keep a roof over his head, an eight hour Monday thru Friday job, the bills paid (if only a bit late), and himself fed. Speaking of his job, Alex is so fucking thankful that it's Saturday, and he has Sunday to get his head on straight before going back to his mundane-as-fuck job.
Opening up the cupboard that usually has some food in it, Alex is pleasantly surprised to find a can of sliced pear halves. He digs around for the rusty can opener that he rarely uses (living off dry cereal and bread here), and finds success when finding it the back of the silverware drawer. While in there he also drudges out a fork (he should really organize that thing), and sets both items on the counter. Than he begins to think. You see, when Alex thinks, that's a bad thing. Because Alex tends to think, just a bit too much, and that can cause his anxiety to rev into overdrive, and a panic attack will surely ensue. But hey, it's just another thing that makes Fuck-Up Alex, Fuck-Up Alex.
* * *
If there was one thing Alex loved more than getting high, or his guitar, it would have to be burning. Ever since Alex got Burned, he ended up loving the damn feeling. And it didn't have to be a String Burn, just a simple first (or second depending on the mood) degree burn. He remembers when he first heard the song 'Iris' by The Goo Goo Dolls, and the one lyric 'when everything feels like the movies, yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive...” it stuck with him. Inspired him really. It started with a burn on his hips and thighs, then it escalated to long cuts that bled red. Beautiful temples of red streaming down his legs and hips and thighs, and the relief that he felt was amazing. He felt so fucking alive. So much better than just getting high. The downfall to all this? He just feels depressed as fuck later on.
If somebody were to tell him that self-harming just hurt him at the end of the day, he would tell them that he knows. He knows that it does more bad than good, but that momentary relief was unimaginable; indescribable.
* * *
Alex pushes open the door of the coffee shop that he worked at, in Baltimore, Maryland. The bell hanging above the door jangled, and he saw his coworker Rian popping his head up from behind the counter.
“Alex! Morning!” His smile was a thousand volts of happiness, and Alex couldn't stop a small smile and short wave back, “could you make some of your muffins? We're almost out and some have gone stale.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Alex giving a short nod as he slid behind the counter and tied his folded-over apron around his waist. Pulling the sleeves of his shirt washing his hands, “make me a coffee would you?”
“Vanilla black?” Rian asked already slipping over to the machine.
“Yup,” Alex moved quickly, gathering his ingredients and making his muffins. His muffin recipe was just something that he accidentally came up with when he was trying to make bread one day. He just adds blueberries or strawberries or chocolate, or he'll make banana; whatever suits his fancy that day. Pouring the batter into the molds, he put them into the oven, and gets started on another batch.
“So Cassadee can't make it in today, so I'll need your help serving the tables,” Rian tells him, placing the coffee down on a shelf higher than Alex's indigents so that he wouldn't accidentally knock it over. Cassadee was Rian's Soul Mate, and she was a waitress here at the cafe. Rian had found her when he was fifteen, his wrist had started to burn in the good way, until he and Cassadee found each other. They've never gone anywhere without the other since.
“You know I can't serve tables Rian,” Alex deadpanned, because they've had this conversation before, and he was sick of it.
“You don't have a choice. Cass is sick, she can't make it in, and I need somebody else to serve.”
 “Why can't I man the register?”
“Because you're crap with money,” Alex couldn't argue with that.
* * *
Alex ran both hands over his face as he sat on a stool in the kitchen; away from prying eyes. Serving customers was absolutely fucking horrible. Seriously. He has no idea how Cass manages to enjoy it so much. Probably because she's a socialasfuck butterfly, and she was able to talk and gossip with everybody who walked into the damned cafe.
The cafe wasn't very big. It was a small white brick building and sat on the corner of a street. For this very reason it was called the Corner Cafe. Locals knew about it, but it wasn't popular to the point where they needed more than three workers at a time. Rian was the proud owner, Cassadee the proud owner's wife, and Alex the proud owner's friend of sophomore year of high school. It was perfect.
That being said, Alex still fucking hated serving. Sometimes the customers were rude and overly picky, other times they were just a bit too nosy for their goddamn good. Or maybe it was just Alex being the introverted prick he tends to be. Not that he just tries to be a prick, he just is. (He wouldn't have it any other way.) But Rian knows. And so does Cassadee. That Alex really isn't a prick, it's all just a big facade that he puts on to keep others away, because he so goddamn sick of getting hurt. And Rian and Cassadee are kinda-sort-of okay with it, because if it keeps Alex from getting hurt, than that's okay with them. Because they've seen him when he gets hurt, and it kinda hurts them to see him like that.
* * *
Alex mundanely wiped down yet another table in the cafe, when a young man (not over the age of twenty) walks in with two others, another guy and a chick, that he presumes are his friends. And Alex is walking over to them, to maybe seat them at a table, or take their order when he feels it. It's slow at first, really slow and deep. Like a stream just starting to trickle. And then it's a bit bigger, as he gets closer to the group. And then he studies them, really studies them. The first guy had curly dirty blonde hair and was kinda tall (Alex stands 6'1'' so, that's kinda good), and his fingers are tightly intertwined with a girl with long flaming red hair, that curled and bounced at the slightest movement. She was shorter than him, but it had to be by only an inch or two. And finally the other guy. Just by looking at them, Alex could tell they were all in their young twenties, and they had their lives together. But as he grew closer, he realized what the weird good-feeling sensation was. It's his wrist, and as he draws closer to the group, it goes from a brook, to a stream, to a river, to a pond, to a-
“Zack!” And Rian is shouting, and moving from behind the counter and gives Curly Blonde -Zack- a big ol' man hug, and then carefully sweeping his supermodel wife in a nice extremely friendly hug. “I see you and Scarlett decided to finally come and visit my livelihood!”
“Well of course!” Flaming red head -Scarlett- speaks up, “we couldn't miss out on an opportunity to see you Ri!”
“And who's your friend?” And Rian mentions the other guy that Zack and Scarlett are with, and wow. Yeah okay the guy is kindasortamaybereallyhot. But that's not what catches Alex's attention. It's the burning on his wrist, and no longer is it a simple pond, but a goddamn fucking ocean, and Alex is kinda worried -scared out of his fucking mind-, and he really doesn't want to have a panic attack right now, but yeah, he's gonna and it's gonna suck.
And then the world is spinning in slow motion, and he's falling to the ground, taking a really nice vase full of Iris' to the ground with him. And the weight of the world is heavy on his shoulders, and he can'tbreathecan'tbreathe, because it's tooheavytooheavy, and too much. Way too much. So yeah. He's gonna pass out and make a total embarrassment of himself and Rian, and it sucks. Sucks so much.
* * *
When Alex wakes up, it's strange. He's laying on the couch in the cafe, and not many people (no one but Rian, Cassadee, Zack, Scarlett, and Hot Mystery Guy) are there, so he supposes Rian closed it for the day. Probably because of him, and he kinda sort-of feels guilty, and it'll eat at him for days, but he'll just bury it like all his other emotions.
That's not what's strange though. All he can really think about is Hot Mystery Guy, and that's like all he can see. Literally. He's sitting in a chair across from Alex, and now Alex can really study him. His hair is all spiked up, and part of it's blonde and yes, he knows so many people probably think this, but it kinda reminds him of a skunk. A skunk with a stripe the color of piss. And yes, that's mean, but that's Fuck-Up Alex for ya'. And he's dressed in a leather jacket and skinny jeans, and now all Alex wants to do is get into those jeans, but that's not happening, because this is Alex we're talking about, and nothing good ever happens to Alex, and this guy could definitely be something good.
“Afternoon Sleeping Beauty!” Rian says stepping out from behind the counter, and making his way towards Alex, who's sitting up and rubbing his face with his hands before looking up at Rian. “Feeling any better?”
“No,” Alex sighs, carefully standing up testing whether or not he's dizzy and can breathe properly. “I just really need a hit right now, “Rian's face drops at Alex's words. He knows Alex relies too much on getting high to distract himself from the pain, but no matter what he's done, he hasn't been able to stop him.
“So,” Zack calls from where he's sat on a loveseat near a large window with Scarlett, “you gonna introduce us to Sleeping Beauty, Rian?”
“Oh yeah! Alex these are my friends Zack, Scarlett, and Jack. Guys this is my best friend Alex.”
“How did you guys meet?” Scarlett asks and listening closely now, Alex can pick up a hint of an Australian accent.
“We uh,” Alex begins, “um...at a local park one day after school. I had family problems at the time, so I would ah, go out there and like...sit. And it was raining, so Rian being the goody two-shoes he is, he offered me a meal, dry clothes and a ride back to wherever it was I lived. And uh, we we're like 16 at the time, like, a month or two before school was out for the summer.”
The silence claws at Alex as he watches them take in his story, purposely keeping his eyes off Jack. Maybe the burning sensation was a fluke earlier. It had to be right? Cushions move, and Alex's eyes snap over to where the sound originated from. His gaze it caught by Jack's, whom was settling himself into the chair. The burning sensation grew and threatened to force him into another panic attack. And all this silence is too much, too much too mu-
“Alex! Alex! Hey!” Suddenly he's being sat back down and Rian's showing him how to breathe again, because the weight on his chest was suddenly there, and his mouth was cotton ball dry, and his vision was swarming. “Maybe you should go home. That's two in one day. And the shop's closed for the day.”
“Ye-yeah,” Alex stutters out nodding his head, “m'just gonna grab some muffins and a coffee.” Alex makes his way to the back of the shop, pulling out a box and placing an assortment of his muffins in it. Before making himself a mocha cappuccino to go. From here he hears Rian talking lowly to his friends.
“I think I'm gonna drive him back to his apartment, I don't trust him to be walking on the streets right now. So you might just wanna head on over to my place, Cassadee's sick but she'll be there watching The Kardashians on the couch.”
“He seems fine to me,” a voice speaks up.
“But he's not. The last,” don't do it Rian, “the last time he got like this and walked himself home, it didn't end well.”
“I could take him,” the same voice says to Rian, “I'm sure you want to get home to Cassadee, and it's not like I came here with Zack and Scar.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah man, it's no problem, really.”
“As long as he's okay with it sure.”
Well fuck, Alex thinks, grabbing his coat and checking to be sure he has his wallet. Now I'll have to say yes. Alex walks to the front of the room all set and ready to go.
“Alex!” Rian calls him over, “Jack here has kindly offered to drive you back to your apartment.” Fuck.
“Thanks,” Alex says quietly. Jack stands up and they leave the shop together.
* * *
The car ride to Alex's apartment was quiet, the atmosphere stifling and awkward, despite Jack's numerous attempts at making conversation. Rain pattered against the windshield, and the wipers just as quickly pushed the droplets away.
“Look man,” Jack begins, causing Alex's eyes to snap towards him before snapping back to the windshield, “I don't know how I offended you, or if I've done something, but Rian's my friend, and if everything I've heard about you is true, I want to be your friend too.”
“You haven't done anything,” Alex whispers.
“Then why the fuck are you ignoring me?”
“Because everybody leaves in the end,” Jack quickly snapped his eyes towards Alex, not expecting such an answer, “they always do. Because nobody wants a fuck-up for a friend.”
“You're not a fuck-up Alex,” Alex snorts in disbelief.
“Yeah I am. I've committed some of the biggest sins this society has, all the while managing to get almost everybody who's ever met me to shun me.”
“I'm not shunning you.”
“But you will. Did you know, I supposedly don't have a Soul Mate?” Alex laughs, and Jack's eyes widen as the realization hit him like a whip.
“Yep,” Alex smiles, “I fucked somebody who wasn't my Soul Mate.”
Alex moves his fringe out of his eyes, “I got addicted to the burn I would get.”
“So that means...” Jack's eyes dart towards Alex's left wrist where you could see a still pink scar, wrapping around Alex's wrist like a second bracelet.
“Shunned for life, less likely to find my true Soul Mate. But then again, I apparently don't have one.”
During the conversation the burn the bracelet was giving off was slowly growing, making Alex's soul ache for Jack's touch on his gossamer skin. Alex ignores it though. He can't help but wonder, can Jack feel it too? If so he shows no sign of it. But then again, Jack could be completely in love with someone else and he could get the Soul Mate that has a different one. Which sucks more than not having one at all; knowing that the person that you love that your soul craves, is in love with somebody else? No thank you.
“So, why'd you do it then?” Jack looks at Alex, sees the slow death behind his caramel eyes that are duller than mud. Alex walks up the stairs to his apartment, Jack following closely behind. He comes to his apartment – 32A on the second floor. Pulling out his lanyard that was shoved into his jacket pocket, he pulls it out and quickly finds his key before letting himself and Jack into his apartment.
“I needed to feel alive. Attention. Nobody cared, my parents hated me because I never found my Soul Mate at the common age, and eventually they deemed me unlovable. Then Rian came along and it became a bit more bearable, but I just wanted somebody to love me. So when somebody did, I went with it.”
“And what happened to the guy?”
“How do you know it was a dude?” Jack freezes, his assumption freezing the air like liquid nitrogen. Then Alex cracks a lopsided broken smile, telling Jack that it was alright.
“It was a...bad...relationship Jack,” Alex settles into his brown couch, fiddling with his own fingers, “and then he met his Soul Mate, real nice girl named Lisa, and that was that.”
“It can't just end like that!” Jack leans forward eager to gain more information from the younger man,“there has to be more to it than that!”
“There is,” Alex looks up from under his slightly shaggy fringe, “but, it's not something I'm too keen on sharing.” Standing up Alex makes his way to his kitchen, where he rummages for tea or something other than stale bread. Jack watches as Alex opens up bare cabinet after bare cabinet. He notices the cobwebs and dust everywhere, how everything squeaks and squeals. How the floor sags in some spots, and not in others.
“How long have you lived here for?”
“Since I was sixteen?” Alex finds another can of sliced pear halves, and opens it eagerly, not remembering the muffins sat in his fridge, “my parents kicked me out when I was officially considered Soul Mate-less.”
“Why the fuck are you still living in this shit hole then?” Alex gives a dry laugh and motions to himself and his apartment, “does it look like I make enough money to move? I'm barely scraping by as it is.”
“What about the money you make at the cafe?”
“Most goes to rent, I put some away for when I want to splurge, and the rest goes to other things.”
“What are the other things?”
“How is that any of your business Jack? I hardly even know you,” Jack sighs immediately becoming frustrated at Alex's walls made of reinforced steel and Roman cement, before snapping a little.
“I can smell the pot Alex, so don't fuck around with me there,” Jack stalks forward and Alex is immediately on the defensive, backing up against the counter as Jack moves closer. “I know you feel it Alex. That soft burn that's happening right now. I've been aching to touch you since I've stepped foot in that damned cafe. I wanted to hear your voice since I saw you clearing tables and restocking the fucking muffins which, by the way, were really fucking delicious.” Alex freezes his mouth running dry making it hard to swallow the bites of pears he had been slowly eating. His blood runs cold because fuck, this wasn't in the plan. He wasn't supposed to find a Soul Mate. He was supposed to be living his years alone, tearing at his thighs, and letting his demons eat away at his soul. He wasn't supposed to meet a sexy confident man, who felt the exact same burn as he. He wasn't! He's Fuck-Up Alex, not Soul Mate Alex. Soul Mate Alex was never supposed to exist, but now here he is, slowly coming to life and merging with Fuck-Up Alex, and this did not feel right at all.
“Alex? Speak to me,” Jack voice whispers into his conscious, ripping him from his thoughts and into the chocolate brown eyes staring back. Reading his soul.
“I'm scared Jack. I'm so fucking scared.”
* *
Alex never really understood the point of soulmates. I mean, he guesses that it makes sense. He kinda never wanted to meet his soulmate though. He wanted to live and get married to somebody who wouldn’t compliment his every flaw. Looking at Jack makes him feel amazing, the rush of warmth that he receives never fails to make him smile, but he still wanted that. Maybe he wanted to get divorced.
He remembers learning about divorce way back in high school, and how it usually never ended well for either parties involved, but it kinda wanted to try it. You never really hear of divorces anymore, everybody paired up and matched perfectly with their soulmate, unless they never find them.
Jack snored loudly, startling Alex out of his thoughts. He looked down to the perfect man lying with his head on his lap, drooling onto the pair of his favorite black jeans.
Jack made him happy. Alex remembers seeing him and although he rejected it at first, he knew that Jack was it. Once Jack was it, it would all be over. He’d never look at another person the same way. He’d never think about how those jeans that random dude was wearing made his ass looked good, or how the bombshell brunette was something he’d like to bang.
Now all he can think of is Jack. He wakes up thinking about him and his white-line -striped hair; goes to bed thinking about more ways he can get the man that he’s falling head over heels in love with to smile. He can’t think about a life without the man who runs a successful record label, plays the guitar like no other, and can get him to smile - truly smile - on his worst of days. He lives for the gruff morning voice, and how his voice gets slightly higher when he’s estate about something; which is quite often.
He may not love Jack truly and completely yet, but by damn he’s more than halfway there. Jack mumbled in his sleep, gripping Alex’s t-shirt tightly with his fingers, pulling himself closer to the man he adored. Smiling brightly down at Jack, Alex ran his fingers through Jacks sleep-mussed hair before turning the TV off and pulling the blanket draped haphazardly across Jack closer to the two of them before shutting his eyes and letting himself drift off to sleep.