In My Arms: A Salex Story

Gone Bananas

TW: MURDER

The air was cold and the banana factory was dark. As he carefully walked through the building that had tall ceilings and a chill that could give someone goosebumps in the Sahara desert, Alex muttered under his breath about how he would much rather be safe and warm back home in the comfort of Philadelphia. He shivered and took his iPhone 6 out of the pocket of his jeans to make sure he hadn't gotten any alarming messages from the band yet. He was partly glad he was in here by himself so no one else would be put in danger, but was also, deep down, very terrified to see what lay ahead.

A few minutes prior, he had come in through a door that was left slightly ajar. He knew Mat was waiting for him somewhere in here, he just didn't know where yet. Walking aimlessly deeper and deeper into the building, Alex was so deep in thought that he barely noticed the banana peel in front of him until it was right under his foot. He slipped on it and fell backwards onto the ground. "Fuck," he grumbled, wincing in pain. Until suddenly, he picked up the partially-mashed peel and was startled to see there was a message written on it.

MALEX GOTHRAN FOREVER

Alex almost laughed to himself until he remembered how dire the situation really was. He guessed Mat had scribbled that onto a banana before eating it or something. Just as he began to stand back up, he heard muffled beatboxing coming from behind a stack of empty banana crates. Alex crept towards the rhythmic sound until suddenly, it stopped..

"Well, well, well, if it's not Alex G," a raspy voice said gibingly, before Mat Cothran emerged from behind the crates as if he was some kind of cryptid. "I assume you're looking for someone by the name of Will, are you not..?"

Alex was taken aback for a second, "Wait, who the fuck is Will?! No, I'm here for Lucy Dacus, dumbass, where is she?!"

Before Mat could open his mouth to reply, the shrill sound of shrieking filled his ears, and he was abruptly tackled by none other than John, still wearing his One Direction pajamas and filled with fury and a spirit of vengeance. Julien followed close behind him and was holding a loaded revolver that was pointed right at Mat.

"WOAH, Julien, don't shoot him, holy shit," Alex pleaded, shuffling around the floor trying to stay out of her aim.

At this point, Mat was pinned to the ground and had a terrified look on his face. "Wait, WHAT?!?!" he wailed, starting to cry and writhe around under where John forcefully had him. "No, please don't SHOOT me, oh my fucking god, no...Lucy's right in there, we were just hanging out, really.."

John smacked him across the face, which sent Mat's glasses skittering across the floor. As the final cherry on top to this attack, he spat in his eye. "I don't believe you, bitch."

With the gun still in her hands, which were shaking slightly from the adrenaline rush of bringing such an awful person to justice, Julien caught glimpse of the Bible verse that was inscribed on the side of the weapon -- the entirely of Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Suddenly filled with a newfound sense of serenity, maybe from God, or some other higher power, she clutched the gold-plated cross necklace dangling from her neck and started to walk towards where Mat said Lucy was. Even if he was some kind of psychopath, maybe he really was telling the truth. In a moment of clarity, she slid open a metal door that had the image of a banana on it. To her relief, Lucy was in the room, sitting on a couch next to a scrawny, awkward-looking, shriveled-up man with black hair and glasses. It looked rather comfortable in there, with banana-shaped pillows and throw blankets printed with images of cartoon cats popping out of banana peels.

"Oh my God, hey Julien!" Lucy exclaimed joyfully, looking up from the book she was reading and waving at the short woman in front of her. The expression on her face quickly turned to one of concern and shock when she saw the handgun in Julien's hand, though. In the beat of a heart, Julien threw the gun on the ground, where it skid over to the corner Alex had retreated to in attempt to hide from the chaos. He yelped before taking a few deep breaths and picking it up so no one would try shooting each other again. When he looked up, Julien was in the comfy banana room, embracing Lucy adoringly as the two sat on the couch together; reunited once again.

John's face fell and he silently let Mat free from the tackle he was in. "I guess Lucy is alright after all.. she didn't even need saving, but even if she did, it wouldn't be me she wanted to save her," John spoke sorrowfully, not to anyone in particular, but instead staring out into the rafters of the abandoned banana factory as if he was giving a monologue in a Shakespeare play. "Mat," he turned to the sad-eyed, scraggly, musician who lay still on the concrete floor, trying to catch his breath, "it was nice seeing you again. Sorry if it hurt when I tackled you." John stood up and cracked his knuckles, neck, and back before turning to Alex, "I think my job here is done, Lucy is safe, I'll see you back at the van." He slithered out the door, leaving nothing behind but a tiny tuft of pink fleece that fell off his garb.

Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes; it had been such a long day already and now he had to confront the guy who put him through hell just a few years before. "Mat, why did you make us think you kidnapped our friend just so I would show up? I thought I'd never see you again after.. y'know.. yet here I am. In your fuckin' Omaha, Nebraska abandoned banana factory." He spoke with a certain callous in his tone that was uncharacteristically cold, even for Alex, who was known for his sarcasm and aloof attitude.

Looking up at the greasy black-haired singer who stood above him, Mat's eyes began to fill with tears. "Alex.. I knew you wouldn't show if I didn't make you. I-I'm sorry. Also I never explicitly said I kidnapped anyone in that poem I left. Yet you jumped to the worst conclusions, as always... I fuckin' deserve it, I know..."

Alex was taken aback at how Mat could continue to be a narcissistic asshole even when he had almost been shot by that badass tiny lesbian minutes before. He was finally feeling all the anger and resentment he had been letting fester inside of him for the past few years, a fiery rage that he had never felt before. Alex considered himself to be a pretty reasonable person, even in stressful situations on tour and at his favorite coffee shop in Philly when the baristas got annoyed at him for never tipping, but now he was fuming. Anger seethed within him, overtaking every nerve in his body as he remembered how helpless he felt when he was sneaking around with Mat back in 2014. How he could never explain to anyone how he got the bruises that painted his body. How his first experience feeling real love toward another person was polluted by the memory of cold nights spent wondering where he went wrong, what he did to deserve the treatment he received from Mat. At this point, Alex wasn't thinking clearly at all, and reached for the handgun he had tucked into the waistband of his jeans to prevent Julien from hurting anyone just moments prior. Except now, Julien wasn't the one Mat should be worried about.

Shakily, Alex pointed the gun at Mat's head, and breathing unsteadily he uttered, "This is what you get for.. hurting me." He was unphased by the look of terror that spread across Mat's face, and was a little scared at how satisfying it was to finally be in control over him. He had Mat in the palm of his hand, not just him, but his life. He could end it all with just the pull of a trigger. Just as Alex was about to seal the deal, a thin, pale man wearing black glasses with square frames jumped in front of the gun. His eyes went glassy and, with a muffled gasp and an almost pathetic squeak that sounded like it could have been emitted from a rabbit, the man fell to the ground, lifeless.

Alex was confused and couldn't fully comprehend what had happened at first. He had aimed the gun at Mat, but didn't think he had pulled the trigger. That guy couldn't be dead, there was no way. Alex and Mat were completely still with their mouths gaping open at the body on the ground, which a pool of blood began to slowly pool around. Fuck. Alex had fucking killed someone.