the scars of your love (given AU) [DNF]

1

a/n: if you are just starting this, please look towards the description for certain content warnings. viewer discretion is advised.

~

"If I were to disappear one day, would you forget about me?" 

The question caught George off guard, as he looked over to his boyfriend, almost flabbergasted that the question even came up. 

"What? Of course not! I could never forget about you," replied George, taking a bite out of his banana. He and Drew lounged on the stairs during their break, the cold winter air still making its way inside due to the broken AC. This caused George to pull his scarf more over his chin, letting out a small shiver. 

"Good. I'm glad. I wouldn't let you forget me anyways," replied Drew, gently pecking George's lips. 

George smiles, letting out a small hum. 

"What song is that?" Drew looked back towards his boyfriend again, tilting his head in curiosity. 

George returns the gesture, thinking about it for a few seconds. 

"I actually... don't know." 

"Well thank you for my inspiration, love," Drew lets out a soft smile. "I can make a song out of it... and then I'll play it for you one day." 

"Really??" George ecstatically looked at the love of his life. His everything. His endgame, despite being immature, 16, young, wild and reckless. "I would love that. I can't wait." 

Drew's smile widens even more at George's cute reaction. "I can't believe this is my last day here." 

"Do you have to transfer?" 

"Yeah, since we're moving. It's only the next town over. I won't be too far, only around 20 minutes away. I'll take the train to see you everyday~" 

"Promise?"

"Yeah," Drew kisses his temple. "I promise."  

~ 

"It's been weeks!" 

George was angry, and it didn't help matters that he saw Drew with another girl. 

"Love, I'm so sorry, I-" 

"Enough with your excuses! You barely call, and when you text you always tell me you're busy, and then you don't even keep your promise to visit me! At this point our 20 minute distance feels like 20 fucking years!" George's tears were barely contained, and it even got to the point where others started to stare. George hated the eyes on him. It made him want to panic more. It made him want to just crawl into a ball and scream. Scream and cry and yell and kick like he was 5 year old throwing a tantrum. 

"I've been so busy... I haven't meant to," Drew scrambled around with his words, trying to calm down his crying boyfriend. He knew how George could get and he knew he was guilty. He knew he was in the wrong. However, all he cared about was getting his love back. No matter what the cost. 

"Bullshit!" George swats away the arm that Drew was reaching out towards him with, pain striking his eyes. "Bullshit bullshit bullshit!! You claim that you care when it sure as hell feels like you don't! I understand that you're busy but you can't even just have an honest talk with me on why! I tell you everything! I share everything with you and I get no forms of communication back." 

George was visibly shaking now, as Drew gently and carefully approaches him, "Love... please... I'm so sorry... You know I would do anything... please, just tell me what to do and I'll fix it. I don't want to lose you... I don't want to lose us." 

George's emotions were out of control. His rage could barely stay contained as he looked back at the girl who was with Drew, who looked at the scene utterly confused. Outrageous. Bullshit. It was all bullshit. He didn't care. If he really cared he would-- 

George didn't know that he was playing with the strings of his heart. Strings that were so close to breaking. Strings that wouldn't be able to play music if you strum them too hard. A heart that was about to break. Two hearts, two lovers that combined into one being. Into one love. Into one raging emotion that caused all this sadness, this anger, and this everlasting pain. 

"Anything?" George lets out a cold laugh, and even though his heart ached, his anger surpassed all reason, past all rational thoughts and processing. "Are you willing to die for me then??" 

It wasn't until it was too late, that George realized that the girl, which he later found out to be named Uriah, wasn't his lover. 

It was Drew's bandmate. 

But he broke everything, shattered it all. 

But unlike a guitar, there was no replacement this time. 

~ 

Spiraling. 

He felt sick. He was drowning. He was choking. He was suffocating. He was dying. 

The papers were scattered along the floor, scratched out music chords and scratched out lyrics of a song that he wasn't able to complete. The scattered cans of alcohol that George knew that Drew hated, and he couldn't bear to drink. 

It was too hot. It was too cold. It was too stuffy, and yet the air was so clear. 

Everything was hanging, hanging on by a thread, but all of a sudden, it lost the support, almost like a chair was kicked out from under it. Lazily, but intentionally. Tiredly, but it has surpassed all reason and care. It was already hanging, what more was there to lose? 

But yet, everything stood still. If everything wasn't hanging, then George can possibly look back in time and say that he was just sleeping. 

 But he wasn't sleeping. 

But despite not sleeping, George knew deep down that he wasn't going to wake up. 

And he let out a scream, but he couldn't even hear himself. He was underwater. He was weak. He couldn't swim to the surface, and he was too ignorant to even face his feelings before. Too ignorant to even process his stupid emotions and thoughts. 

George wanted everything, and yet nothing at all. 

And there he was, now 17 years old, looking at his dead lover, still letting out his inaudible screams. Just so someone, anyone, could hear him. And even though it was only a few seconds, time all of a suddenly escaped George. The seconds felt like years, until he was pulled away from the scene by some stranger in a uniform, and another female stranger who was crying. 

And there was Drew's guitar, his beautiful blue electric guitar, the only thing in this cruel world that wasn't broken. It lay on the floor besides his feet. 

But even though that beautiful blue guitar that was Drew's world wasn't broken, George's world, which was Drew, was. 

And unlike a set of guitar strings, this was something that could never be fixed. Never be mended. 

This could not be fixed.