Love Is Blind

Joyce and Bassam Barakat had always been protective of their youngest son. They trusted him, sure, but they were weary of Jack venturing out into new places -busy or dangerous places- without their presence. They didn’t want to have to restrict their son’s social life as severely as they did, but they felt it was sometimes necessary. Jack was born with cataracts in both of his eyes, and by the time his parents and the doctors discovered them, it was too late, leaving Jack legally blind. As a result, they feared what could happen to him in a world where he lacked such a vital sense.

It was a bleak September day; Jack was mindlessly sitting up in his bed with his back against the headboard, listening to The Offspring through his endlessly tangled earphones when he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate against his thigh. He fumbled to grab it, and flipped it open between the journey from pocket to ear; on the other line was Alex. Alex and Jack had known each other for a little over two years, and they were absolute best friends. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of them to blur the line between friends, and something more, meaning they had spent many a drunken night making out between grabby hands and spurts of breathlessness. Before Jack could sputter out a greeting, he was caught off guard by his friend talking frantically into the telephone, practically tripping over his own words.

“Dude, fucking listen to this I was just on twitter and I saw tour dates and they’re coming here, guess who’s coming here” Alex began, overflowing with anticipation. Slightly taken back, Jack replied.

“Hold on, like a band? Is that what you’re tal-“

“Blink’s coming” Alex interrupted suddenly. Jack’s stomach dropped then, the pair had been Blink-182 fanatics for years. There wasn’t a band out there that could satisfy their banter and justify their antics quite like them; all while giving them meaningful lyrics. Jack exhaled as he heard his mother shuffling down the hallway, past his bedroom.

“As if you think my parents would let me go” Jack scoffed half-heartedly, as he dragged his bottom across his duvet towards the side of the bed and threw his legs onto the hardwood below. He heard Alex mumble incoherently before offering to try talking to Jack’s mother himself. Jack laughed lightly, “If you want to.” he mused.

“Maybe I will…”

“Like I said; whatever you want”

“Okay, I will. Talk to you later?”

“Sure, see you Alex”

“Bye, Fucker”

Jack found himself shaking his head in response to Alex, but nestled his phone back into his pocket. Shortly after, he realized that Alex was right, and he should at least try asking if he was allowed, and with that he exited his bedroom and guided himself towards his mother, who was in the living room. He found her easily due to her loud, tinny voice talking to someone on the landline.

“Mom!” He yell-whispered, but Joyce wasn’t having that right now.

“Yes, you’re right Alex, but a mother will always worry.” She voiced as she shooed Jack’s shoulder away with her hand. He backed up and felt his lips part with surprise. “Alex?” Jack thought to himself “That motherfucker actually called my mom?” He was bewildered, but a small part of his chest beat with nerves. If Jack had straight out asked his mother about the concert, she would have flicked his head at the laughable proposal. Talking with Alex, however, she seemed to be considering it.

Close to an hour later, and Jack had resided to the kitchen to eat a near whole bunch of bananas. Joyce had hung up ages ago, but Jack wasn’t about to ask her about what the call was about; he hadn’t reached out to Alex either. Just then, he heard his mother by the doorway of the room.
“Honey…” Jack could hear the smile in her voice while she spoke. “I was on the phone with your friend earlier tonight.” Jack took a big breath in and prepared to be denied.

“I know, I know, I don’t know why he called you, I’m sorry, it wasn’t even my idea, just forget about it.” he explained quickly, in attempt to downsize her lecture about how ‘everyone adjusts their life to their needs’. Jack was surprised when he heard his mom let out a light chuckle, instead followed by footsteps towards Jack. He felt a piece of paper being placed on the kitchen table in a way that it landed on his hands. He must have looked quizzical because his mother felt necessary to clarify what the paper actually was.

“It’s a ticket, one of the print-at-home variety, but a ticket nonetheless, for that 182-blink band. Your friend convinced me he would be with you the whole time, and that he knows the area, and most importantly, that the two of you won’t be standing close to the stage, where the rowdier people hang out”. This time Jack felt his mouth form an entirely open ‘O’, then morph into a wide grin, but his mother carried on. “I figured that you’re seventeen now, and can handle going to a concert with a friend. However, the two of us are going to have a large talk about what this means, and what I expect from you”. Jack groaned as his mother pulled a chair out from the table opposite Jack and began the hour long discussion about his own independence. Jack wanted to melt into a puddle and swim along the hardwood towards his bedroom.

It was about a month later, and Jack was meeting Alex at the bus stop. His mother dropped him off five minutes prior, and since then he had been excitedly drumming his fingers against the bus stop’s pole, slightly crooked from a car accident after a prom night two years ago.

“Fuck yeah! The man! Here on time.” sounded a voice that could be described as a smooth baritone. Jack turned around to face who could only be Alex, and exploded into a perfect grin.

“Oh man, I’m so psyched.” He gushed as he reached his hand into his pocket, coming out with a fistful of bus change. He felt the coins around in his palm and selected the proper amount he needed, just as he heard the hissing of the bus arriving at the curb. As Alex walked towards the bus and prepared to board, he felt a faint tug on the flap of his backpack, he peered over his shoulder and saw Jack grasping the loose fabric in his fist. This was a common thing for Jack to do when he was in an unknown area, but only if he really knew the person. He wasn't about to hold onto a stranger, but he had no problem getting help from his family and closest friends.

The two boys got to the venue easily, after only three or four stops, and although they were hours early, this was planned; It was all part of the experience. They spent their time listening to Blink, and debating their favourite songs, albums, and members with other fans in line until the doors opened. As soon as their tickets were scanned, Alex took a hold of Jack’s limp wrist and dragged him near centre stage, front row. When Jack felt the cold, metal barricade pressing up his knees and torso, he gave Alex an uneasy look, conveying how he felt about disobeying his mother’s strict warning; “Don’t stand near the front, where the rowdier people hang out” but Alex assured him by tightly lacing their fingers together so they wouldn’t be separated.

“The only rowdy people out here are us, Jack.” He soothed humorously, Jack nodded in agreement, and displayed his level of rowdiness by delivering a playful shove to Alex’s side. As the floor filled up, Jack could feel the room getting warmer, tighter, and more excited. Eventually, the first opener came out, followed by the second. Neither of them were that well known by either of the friends, but they played well, causing Jack to sway his head hypnotically to the beat while Alex smirked at his adorable shit of a best friend.

As much as Jack had enjoyed the opening acts, they were minuscule compared to the headliner.
“Fucking Blink-182 is getting onstage! They’re going to play next!” Alex half-shouted into his friend’s ear as the band began appearing from backstage, picking up instruments along the way that were leaned against boxes and speakers for the duration of the previous two bands. Jack’s excitement physically crept out of him, causing to clench Alex’s palm, and use his free hand to make his fingers run rapidly up and down the length of his arm. The combination of the best band ever, and Jack’s touch made Alex’s lower stomach blossom into a tingling sensation that rippled outward. He squeezed his crush’s hand in reply and threw the other into the air like many others in the crowd. The band began while the lights were still low; a few strums of the guitar accompanied with several random drum hits. Gradually the sound grew alongside the anticipation in the room and the boy’s faces beamed brightly together in the sea of the crowd until Blink broke into their first song. The crowd was a fairly rough one, and created a harsh pit the moment blink began the chorus, allowing both boys to cavort wildly with everyone else.

Three songs in, Tom and Mark finally took it on themselves to talk to the crowd.
“Before we came onstage tonight, Travis told me that everyone here tonight wants to suck some dick?” Travis visibly laughed, and playfully pounded his drum kit. Tom paused and leaned towards the microphone stand.

“But then again, maybe some of you swing the other way.” The people in the audience laughed, and Alex took this break in song as his chance. Before he came to the show, he had written a letter to Jack, and was hoping someone onstage would read it out loud. He lunged his hand into his jacket pocket, and retrieved a piece of notebook paper; now incredibly wrinkled and covered in numerous pieces of lint. He used his left hand to propel the note onto the stage, where it landed at the base of Mark’s foot.

“Oh, oh? What’s this?” he bent down and scooped up Alex’s paper in his hand and brought it up to eye level. “Please read aloud.” he read from the backside. Mundanely he flipped it over and began to recite Alex’s letter. “Dear Jack Barakat,” he started. The real-life Jack Barakat, the one beside Alex was perpetually confused.

“What’s happening?” Jack searched, unaware that Alex had tossed the note onstage. Alex however, didn’t answer his companion, knowing fully that it would make sense in a moment.

“It’s Alex, I wrote this letter and threw it on stage a second ago, because I don’t know how to tell you, also, Blink-182 fucking rocks”. Mark paused at this and curtsied slightly, laughing a thank-you. “I think you know what I’m going to say. I made sure you could come to this concert because I know how fucking important this shitty band is to you, and because I wanted you to be with me when I was here. I want you with me everywhere I go, always, basically, I’m just asking if you would be my boyfriend? P.S. please say yes.” The fans yelled and whistled at what Mark had read, but Alex stood, tensing his left hand and furiously biting his lip so that the skin on his lips began to bleed. He judged Jack was having a good reaction to what he was hearing based on the fact that his hand has still entwined with his, however, hand holding was something Jack did out of literal safety, not necessarily affection. Alex peered out of the side of his vision so he could just see the beautiful boy beside him. Jack’s mouth hung wide on a hinge, and he joined Alex in the nibbling of his lip. After a second he gracefully brought his right hand on top of their embracing fists, softly enveloping them.

“Of course.” He uttered through smiled lips before putting his arms to a new purpose, tightly locking them around the one with the newly coined term of ‘boyfriend’. Obviously, the show had paused while Mark read the love letter, but nobody stayed quiet during the couple's interaction, so while the prior interaction was romantic, one must remember it was done amidst sweaty bodies and roaring music. Luckily, Alex was the one who could read lips.

“I can’t believe you actually fucking did that, I mean, holy shit. Technically Mark Hoppus just asked me to be his boyfriend… and I said yes!” The show was now over, and the pair was walking towards the bus station. The winter air was sharp, and Jack’s fingers were frigid as he clutched Alex’s forearm. The latter let out a chuckle, and wet his lips before pressing them firmly against his boyfriend’s forehead.

“I like you a lot.” he admitted. Although Jack’s eyes were frosted over milky and vacant, Alex found himself looking away from the dimly lit streets ahead, and trying his best to gaze into them, hoping that Jack knew that he was staring at their peculiar beauty. Of course he was oblivious, and turned his head away, beginning to talk about how he was glad that he could tell that Alex wasn’t going to tell him he loved him until he really meant it.

“If that makes sense to you... Do you know what I mean?” Suddenly Alex stopped abruptly in the middle of a patch of cement.

“Jack…” he queried, “do your parents know that you aren’t exactly straight?” he worried, for he knew that the Barakats tended to stray to the stricter side of things. Jack only smirked.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. I mean, they’ve always told me, ‘love is blind’.”