Miserable at Best

I looked up into his brown eyes, and couldn't exactly tell what emotion he was showing. They changed back and forth between, sadness, anger and jealously. Either one they were, it wasn't a good sign. His eyes quickly flickered beside me at Derek, and then back to me, extending his hand. Here it came again, I knew what I had to, and I knew what I wanted to do. But once again what I wanted...well it never mattered. I didn't even take a look at Derek before grabbing Alex's hand as he pulled me up from the ground. He held my hand the entire walk back to the bus, I stayed quiet not really knowing what exactly I should say. We stopped once we reached the back of the open van. It was still half empty, my guess was that the rest of the band and crew we were packing up everything.

Alex took a seat on the edge of the van, patting the spot beside him, cueing me to take a seat. It was an awkward silence for a good five minutes. I didn't turn to look at him though I could feel his gaze on me every few seconds before he would look away at something else. Cars passed by, people walked by, and I swear I saw a owl fly by. This obviously wasn't going anywhere, if we were going to sit here and not talk I might as well just go back to Mayday Parade's van. I was about to stand up and walk away when Alex spoke up, breaking the thick air of silence.

"I'm sorry," he said in a low voice.

He was sorry? Sorry for what? For blowing up on me? Or for having sex with me when clearly it wasn't because I, myself, wanted it? I needed to know, because lately this guy has been more confusing to me than a gangster on a skateboard, "What're you sorry for?"

He was silent at first, rubbing his right hand down his face and sighing, "I'm sorry for blowing up on you. I shouldn't have done that."

He was apologizing, which was a great step for us, but just not for the thing I was hoping.

He grasped my hand, squeezing it, "God, will you just freaking look at me?"

I turned my head and looked at him, mumbling a sorry. He looked at me, his eyes looking down at our hands, "Don't apologize. It's me. It's always me."

"Alex sto-"

"Brook, no. Don't say I'm wrong, because I know for a fact I'm right. I just have an awful habit of screwing things up royally," he told me looking me in the eye before continuing, "Please, just say you don't hate me."

Without hesitation I spoke out, "Alex, I don't hate you."

Truth was, no matter how much he angered me, hurt me, pissed me off, made me want to jump out of a moving van, I don't think I could ever hate him. And you have no idea how much I hated myself for that. He smiled, squeezing my hand once more before asking, "So we're okay then? No more 'I hate Alex days'?"

I laughed, "No more 'I hate Alex days'. For now anyways. I can't promise anything."

He laughed, and replied, "I can respect that."

Alex kissed me grabbing my face pulling it closer to his, and at that moment I completely lost my self in his arms. It seemed like nothing could pull me back to reality. Shame on me for forgetting Jack Bassam Barakat, "HOLY SHIT! THEY'RE FUCKING IN THE BACK OF THE VAN!" I pulled myself away quickly to glare at Jack as the sound of foot steps became louder, soon the rest of All Time Low and Matt were standing there, obviously expecting a show. I shook my head, I was expecting more of them, "Wow. You guys are the biggest creeps of my life."

They all exchanged looks, before Matt spoke up, "We're guys. We're hormonal."

"Obviously," I told them before kissing Alex on the cheek, and telling that I was going to grab my stuff from Mayday Parade's van and would be back soon. The guys groaned once they found out that they had missed out on whatever had been going on in the back of the bus. Passing Jack I shoved him in the chest hard.

He groaned, "What was that for?"

"For being a perv!" I yelled back at him before making the dreaded walk to Mayday Parade's van.

I had gathered my bags together that had been resting in the back of the van when I could hear the shuffeling of feet. I didn't have to even think about who it could be, I knew it was Derek. "So that's it then? You're just going to go running back to him after he says he's sorry?"

I sighed, I knew this was going to come up. I put my bags down on the ground, and turned to look at him, "Derek, you're an amazing guy, a great friend, but I'm married....And I love Alex. What did you expect me to do?"

Derek shoved his hands in his pockets, and kicked a rock at the floor, "I thought that you would leave him...for me."

God, he just killed me right about there. If I could, I would in a heartbeat. But I couldn't. Divorce was never an option in my family, as my parents said, 'Every problem can be worked out somehow.' " And that was what Alex and I would probably do, for the rest of our lives, work out every problem, "Derek I-"

"No. Brook I'm going to show you, I'm going to show you that the way your living makes no sense. That I would be better for you, and not Alex. I'm going to show you."

And with that Derek walked off, to god knows where. I sighed, I already knew this would be trouble, and began to grab my bags when Alex showed up out of thin air, grabbing my bags, swing them over his shoulder, entwining my fingers with his, "Let's go babe."

For some reason, when he said 'babe' it sounded genuine. But I knew better, I shook the idea from my head, knowing that this all was an act.