Band Member Oneshots

Bottom of the Ocean

It's only logical, really. The mental and physical abuse over the years as the comic relief of the group has finally taken its toll on him.

During the Last Young Renegade era, Jack is, simply put, not himself.

Some might even say he's depressed.

But how depressed?

For the July All Time Low Microfic Challenge: Pool

Word Counter says 568.

The hotel pool tempts Jack.

Its clear, blue and calm water inviting him in.

To relax his sore muscles from the day ATL just had, summed up in a laundry list.

Wake up call at 4:30 AM for radio press at 6.

An interview with the local newspaper at 11.

A quick lunch on the road at 12:30 to be at the venue at 1.

Soundcheck from 2:30 to 3:15.

Catering at 5:30.

Monitor Party at 8:30.

ATL's set from 9 to 11.

And now downtime after scheduled hours at the pool until late checkout tomorrow at 1.

To reiterate, a full day for both crew and band members, but in Jack's case, a day of pure and utter hell.

The reason, as clear as ever. Months and months of built-up feelings of gloom and misery. In a word or two, absolute despair.

Towards himself, the band, his job, his family, in essence, towards the world.

Oh, sure, he's experienced this feeling multiple times in the past. 14 years of being in the entertainment business, and he knows very well the obligated, accompanying feelings of sorrow.

Is very much aware of, actually, that if not for the loneliness of missing home, the dejection of not meeting personal expectations, and the grueling schedule involved, he wouldn't be an artist.

Yet, this time around, those feelings go beyond those of being simply homesick, uninspired or exhausted. No, in being more real, more pronounced, more palpable, they extend further into-

Jack's shoulders slump at the realization.

They extend into classic symptoms of depression.

Yes, that's what he has. That's what he is.

Depressed.

It's only logical, really. The mental and physical abuse over the years as the comic relief of the group has finally taken its toll on him.

More so, has dealt him with a persistent inner turmoil that just won't let up, unless-

Jack studies the pool before him with interest, its cool waters a sudden solution to his troubles.

What would happen if he jumped in and not come back for air? Would he try to stay afloat for a little while, or sink right down to the concrete bottom?

And, while he's there, taking in and breathing in all that chlorinated water into his lungs, how long before his plaguing thoughts disappear? Seconds, minutes, hours?

But, above all, Jack wonders, the pool now an abyss before him, how will he see his life ending? A scene-by-scene play through of his greatest hits, or a twister of all his thoughts before they, like himself, evaporate?

As daunting as the experience might be, Jack thinks it is also quite liberating. To just let himself fall into the waters, never to be seen again from the world.

And so, he prepares himself. Places both feet at the edge of the pool, and relaxes all muscles to make himself fully numb. Then, fixates a landing space in the pool to afterwards tilt his body a little forward to-

A sudden gripping on his left arm pushes him away from the edge of the pool and into the arms of a very familiar presence.

"It's okay, Jack." Alex whispers comfortingly in his ear. "We'll get you the help you need. I'll be with you every step of the way. How does that sound?"

Exhausted by the ordeal, Jack drops his forehead onto Alex's shoulder, his words never more truthful.

"That sounds perfect."