therapy // jalex

o n e

Alex Gaskarth didn't quite remember how exactly he had began paying $300 a week to sit in a room and listen to a woman drone on about how easy it can be to overcome depression. It was all bullshit, really, but still, Alex attended these mental torture sessions to please his ever-worrying parents.
He didn't quite remember, either, how he had learned to love the sight of his own blood trickling down his forearm, or how he'd given up any will at all to continue trying to survive. But that's just how it goes, right? At times it seems like the clock ticks by like molasses and then after you've finally endured it, you wish you could go back. Like never knowing what you miss until it's gone. And Christ, how Alex missed being a kid. When he was younger he couldn't wait to grow up and now, fuck, he just wished he'd enjoyed his childhood.
Alex shook his head. His mind wandered too much, and that was how he was in this fucking mess. Ever since Tom died, it was like he was his own worst enemy, trapped with his thoughts in an abyss that only went deeper. It was hard to see a way out when darkness engulfed his every movement, following him like a snake in the grass. It seemed that even his own fucking shadow had left him whenever he needed someone the most.
Alex sat outside the annoyingly casual building where he went for therapy twice a week, a cigarette hanging dangerously from his lips as he inhaled its nicotine as if he relied on it. It was morbidly ironic that the very thing that was killing him gave him the will to survive, and perhaps that's why his underlying addiction seemed so important in his eyes. You see, Alex Gaskarth was not exactly something, however nor was he nothing. He was a walking incongruity in which that he killed himself in order to stay alive, as contradictory as it may seem.
There was a tap on his shoulder. His eyes flickered over to the receptionist who stood there awkwardly, making no attempt to hide her distaste for the cigarette smoke that seemed to follow the sixteen year old around like a storm cloud. "Mr. Gaskarth, it's time for your appointment now," she explained with a quaint smile, before dipping back through the tinted doors into the air conditioned haven inside. Alex flicked his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his foot, not even bothering to look for an ash tray as he knew that there wasn't one. Pushing open the door with one quick motion, he was immediately met by a blast of cold air that was a welcome change to the summer heat. He didn't even bother checking in with the receptionist, she knew he was there, and so he continued on into the fourth door on the left, the group therapy room. Immediately upon entry he heard a loud, unfamiliar voice going on about how good his latest fuck was, and Alex clucked his tongue loudly.
"No one wants to hear about your fucking dick, mate," he announced, searching for the source of the voice and when he saw him, hell, perhaps he'd changed his mind about wanting to hear about his dick. Before him was a lanky boy with brown hair and thick eyebrows that rivaled even Alex's.
"Actually, I was talking about my boyfriend's dick, the one that feels so fucking good inside of me-" the boy began, when the therapist let out a sharp cough.
"Mr. Barakat! I know that you're new here, but please remember that there are young ears in here," Dr. Acerson scolded, obviously referring to the two fourteen year old girls who looked like they'd just stepped out of a Blood On The Dance Floor music video. There was a scoff from the pair.
The boy, Something Barakat, grumbled a string of swear words before throwing himself into one of the plastic chairs. Alex decided to take a seat relatively near him, but not too closely, before glancing around at the other attendees.
"First of all," Dr. Acerson began, tapping his pen on his notepad, "why don't all of you tell us your names, your age, and an interesting fact about you, since we have a new member in our therapies?" Alex sighed; they did this every week, and he was pretty sure that he knew half of the attendees life story, but he chose not to bring this up in fear of the doctor complaining to his parents. He didn't really care to remember things much either, so introductions weren't too terribly boring.
"I'm Irene Gale, I'm fourteen and I like to sing," said one of the Blood On The Dance Floor scenies with bright blue fringe.
"I'm Delia Jakobson, I'm fourteen, and I'm high as fuck right now," said Irene's counterpart, crinkling up her nose.
There was a short silence after the doctor scolded Delia for her language, before the new boy began to speak. "I'm Jack Barakat, I'm sixteen, and I like having sex with dudes." Wow, what a guy, Alex thought as he resisted the urge to stand and clap sarcastically. As cute as the dude was, he seemed like a total douche-canoe.
The girl next to Jack seemed to inch away from him a little bit before beginning her introduction. "I'm Taylor Jardine, I'm seventeen, and I'm in a band called We Are The In Crowd. You should look us up." Alex had to hand it to her, she was sexy as fuck coming from a gay guy, and if he was straight he would totally be up her alley. Well, he'd probably be up her alley anyways. Alex didn't deny himself the pleasure of people pleasing to look at. Sure, he preferred to fuck guys, but there was no harm in having some good fun with a hot girl.
"I'm Alex Gaskarth, I'm sixteen, and I play the guitar," Alex introduced himself reluctantly, fumbling with a loose string on the end of his flannel and trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the room.
️Jack made a sudden outburst, "Dude, me too!" The doctor hushed him quickly, wanting to allow the last boy to introduce himself.
He was rather tall, with an awfully large forehead. "I'm Brendon Urie, I'm eighteen, and I, umm, I sing," he stuttered out and Alex was surprised at how deep Brendon's voice was compared to his own.
The doctor clapped his hands once Brendon finished, obviously quite happy that the introductions were over with. "Fantastic. Now, who would like to start by telling us why they are here today?"
There was silence. Alex had his hands folded in his lap as he stared at the ground. The room reeked of cinnamon; Alex couldn't stand cinnamon. It was the equivalent to the smell of cat piss for him.
"Mr. Gaskarth, would you like to share?" Alex's head shot up.
Shrugging, Alex began to speak. What was the harm in this, anyways? "I'm here because my parents think I'm depressed."
"And why do they think that, Alexander?"
Alex glared at the doctor. "It's Alex. And because I like Brompton Cocktails, cutting myself, and OxyContin. Oh, and can't forget that my brother committed suicide."
The doctor scribbled notes in his notebook. "Please elaborate on said 'Brompton Cocktail'."
Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You never heard of Avenged Sevenfold? Jimmy Sullivan? Ring a bell?" The doctor shook his head. "Lil bit of cocaine, heroin, various alcohols. I like to add a dash of Oxy in there too."
A murmur flushed throughout the group. "Who would like to share next?"
The boy named Jack raised his hand. "I'm here cause my parents think I'm a 'sex addict', whatever the hell that means. They think they can pray away the gay."
The group continued to share their stories, as Alex watched the tainted clock count down. "Session's over, Dr. Fuckwad, can I go now?" Alex hissed, not waiting for an answer before shooting up and heading out of the reeking room.
Jack ran quickly after Alex. "Bro, you gotta hook me up with some'a that shit you talked about in there!"
Alex glared at the boy over his shoulder. "Can't, my dealer's busted." Lie.
Jack seemed to pout. "Hmm, I haven't seen you at the high school, where you go?"
"Dropped out," Alex said nonchalantly.
"Head ass."
"You did not just fucking say that."
"What if I did?"
"Get the fuck away from me, fag."
"Dude, you radiate gay, don't call me a fag!"
It was practically everything Alex could do not to clock this kid in the jaw. "I'm not gay, fuck off." It perhaps seemed that Alex had not quite come to terms with his sexuality. It was not this, however, just that he did not like to advertise something so minuscule as what he preferred to stick his dick in.
Jack rolled his eyes, before turning and walking off. Alex's eyes followed him closely, as the boy got into a beaten up red pickup, a tall kid with messy black hair in the driver's seat.
Alex was a people watcher. He examined every inch of the boy's face. His skin was pale like alabaster, his nose was small and turned up slightly at the end and his eyes were narrowed, an olive green. A five o clock shadow was barely visible on his striking jawline. Whoever this dude was, he was way too hot for Jack Barakat. Alex hadn't seen him before, granted he had only lived in this town for some six months, before that he'd been quite happily residing in Essex.
It was no use dwelling on his former life, though. His family had needed a new start after what had happened with Tom and all. This just wasn't the new start that Alex had imagined. Moving to a whole other continent was a bit hard on a teenage boy; what with his closest of friends sleeping whilst he was in school and vice versa.
Alex missed Josh. Ah yes; the boy with messy hair and the even messier personality. They'd decided to break up mutually when Alex discovered that he was moving, but not a day went by that Alex didn't think about Josh's bright blue eyes. Oh Christ, those fucking eyes that haunted him every goddamn day. He hadn't spoken to Josh in weeks. Only because the boy's new girlfriend was afraid that Josh was gonna leave her to take Alex back. Boy, was that a long shot, but Alex could at least hope, right?
"Lex! Get in the car! You been starin' into space for ten bloody minutes!"
Alex sighed. "Sorry, mum. Just thinking," he replied, opening the door of the black sedan.
"S'alright. How was therapy?" his mother asked, stroking a lock of Alex's hair away from his forehead in that maternal fashion of hers.
Alex had gotten good at faking smiles, he realized as he flashed one towards his mum. "Went great. I really feel like I'm getting better. Dr. Acerson works fuckin' miracles."
Isobel Gaskarth had given up on scolding Alex for his language. He was just like Tom with that mouth of his. Instead, she flashed him back a genuine grin. "That's great, baby."
Alex cringed. His mum with her awkward fucking nicknames; it was terrible. The rest of the drive home was filled with small talk and awkward silences, before they finally pulled up to the freshly built suburban home. "I'm just gonna go skateboard for a little bit if that's alright," Alex said as he got out of the car. Isobel murmured some sort of agreement as Alex headed toward the garage, grabbing the old, worn board and heading off down the street, headphones fitted nicely in his ears.
Alkaline Trio - Stupid Kid was the song that came on shuffle. A classic pop punk angsty break up song indeed. The boy hummed along as he skated down the street, his destination unclear in his mind. He supposed he would just go until it got dark then find someone to hook up with and spend the night with, and return home in the morning. There was no school to worry about for him, after all.
Alex didn't often pay attention when he skateboarded, much too consumed by music and thought. So when a car pulled to a slow beside him, he didn't even notice that it was the same red pickup from earlier. It wasn't until a quick chorus of horns erupted from the truck itself that Alex pulled an earbud out and swung his head to the side. Not this kid, fuck's sake. "Hop off my dick and leave me the fuck alone, faggot!" he shouted, entirely ready to return his earbud to its former place. Except that he realized that it wasn't Jack. It was his boyfriend, the black haired kid. Now what the hell did he want?