A Foreign Love Song (Jake Bateman x Johnnie Guilbert)

15: Jake

I'd asked Johnnie to go on a date again about a week ago. Since then, we'd been in constant contact. For the first time in what felt like years, I was finally getting to talk to the man behind the door again. It was so great to see him not locked away. I'd gotten into contact with Nikki, who told me that he was under strict confidentiality, but did say he'd gotten Johnnie to talk a lot. He said my friend was going to be okay, which was really reassuring. 

That date that I'd mentioned earlier was happening tonight. I was just taking him out for a nice dinner, no strings attached. This nice dinner meant I'd dress up a little bit, comb my hair, take a really long shower to make sure I smelled fantastic. That was all fine an dandy.

Apparently Johnnie missed the memo.

When I showed up to his door, he looked worse than ever. His eyes were so dark from sleep depravity he looked like he was wearing too much makeup. His hair was a rat's nest, and not even in the normal 'emo' way, but in the too-lazy-to-do-it way. He reeked of cigarettes, too. This didn't normally bother me, but the scent hung around him so strongly it made me dizzy. I thought he was getting better. "Have you showered?" I asked.

He shrugged. "What's the point?"

"But what about tonight?"

"I'm not in the mood." He couldn't even bother to meet my eyes as he spoke, instead looking at the ground.  "You should just go. Sorry for wasting your time."

"I thought you were getting better."

"Who am I getting better for?" He looked up at the ceiling, pointing a weak finger up. "That guy?"

"Not God! For you! For me! For your mother!" 

He shakes his head, and his hair falls into his face so messily I can't see his eyes. "I don't care. Just leave me be."

He slammed the door in my face. I was torn between being livid and feeling badly for him. He was wearing long sleeves, so I know he's been cutting again. That kid needs an anchor really badly.

And I think it's time I bite the bullet and be that anchor.

I took out my phone and called Jordan. He answered after a few rings. "What's up Jake?" He asked.

"I'm gonna need you to come over to Johnnie's house with me. It's time for an intervention."

"An intervention? Oh, alright. I'll be there soon."

Jordan arrived within twenty minutes. In that time period, I'd sat right next to Johnnie's door in case he had a sudden change of heart. I stood up when I saw him getting out of his car. When I was within earshot, he asked, "Does he know?"

"Probably. Don't let him play it off, or get away. We've gotta do this."

He nodded. "I understand."

I knock on the door again, and Johnnie opens it. I know he knows it's already me. He glares at both of us, but a small grin plays at his lips. "Come for a little ménage à trois?"

"We've come to talk about your problem," Jordan says before I have a chance. "Let us in."

"Oh yes, my problem." Johnnie wiggled his hips suggestively.

"Stop that!" I say. "It's high time you give up your habit for real."

"What habit?" He batted his eyes.

"Your wrists." I say, grabbing one of his sleeves. Johnnie tried to twist out of my grip, but failed, instead rolling up his sleeve exactly as I'd wanted for him to. Under his sleeve was a massacre of angry red lines, some scaring over and scratched at, and others pretty fresh. Within hours almost. 

Jordan looked sick. "That's downright vile, man," He said, looking away. "Let us in." 

Johnnie pulled away from me. "You two stay away." I looked to Jordan, who immediately stopped Johnnie from closing the door. "Leave me alone!" 

"Then promise me you'll stop that. As a matter of fact, don't. Don't lie to my face," I tutted. 

"We just wanna make sure you stop doing that. You could cut something you're not supposed to,"  Jordan said calmly. 

It took a hell of a lot of convincing to get Johnnie to let us inside, but once we were in, Jordan forced him over to the sofa. They sat there awkwardly while I walked over slower. "Where are they?" I asked.

"In the bathroom," Johnnie nearly whispered the answered. "Hidden under everything in the top drawer."

I went where he'd told me, taking everything out of the top drawer until my fingers hit the rough silver that had been damaging Johnnie so horribly. I took them and put them into my pocket. (I'm not going to leave them here, I'll dispose of them at home, where I know he won't be able to just get them again.) 

When I returned to the couch, Jordan and Johnnie were just staring at each other awkwardly. "You can't keep this up, Johnnie. You're gonna kill yourself," Jordan started.

"At least tell me you've been eating," I added.

He looked away, not answering my question. "I mean, here and there."

"Are you doing this to get me back here to take care of you, or are you really hitting an all time low?"

He glared at me. "I don't fucking know!" He snapped. "Just decide for yourself, or maybe you should talk to my therapist behind my back again. You and Sixx seem like real good buddies."

Jordan looked over at me nervously, but I wasn't losing my morale over a few aggressive words. "I'm not talking to him behind your back. I spoke to him all of two times. Once to tell him your situation, and he called me the other time to tell me you were getting better. Apparently you've got him fooled. That surprises me. You're better at deception than I thought." 

Johnnie crossed his arms and muttered something inaudible to himself. Jordan tried to get his two cents in now. "Have you even tried to stop hurting yourself?" He received no answer, although I did know it was negative. "Do you want to now?" Johnnie only looked at him with tired and angry eyes.

"He doesn't have a choice now," I sighed. 

"Try and stop me," Johnnie dared.