One shots || Jake and Johnnie

You're drowning, Johnnie || Jake & Johnnie

Laitly Jake had taken a notice that Johnnie wasn't acting like himself anymore, always tierd, really weak, and he was getting really skinny. Jake decides to try to find out whats going on.

——

Johnnie glanced at his reflection in the full body bathroom mirror, pulling a brush through his hair. He had used to find some comfort in the images he saw displayed in the mirror, but today was different. The face staring back at him seemed weird, bloodshot eyes surrounded by dark rings. He paused, allowing the brush to slip from his fingers and hit the tiled floor with a muted clatter. It felt as if, despite the physical presence, he was fading away.

"Hey, Johnnie! You ready to roll?" Jake's voice called from the living room, a bright note amidst the heavier shadows flickering in Johnnie's mind.

"Yeah, just a second!" he shouted back, his heart pounding for reasons he couldn't quite articulate.

Jake was the bright spark to Johnnie's dark hues. He had a natural ability to lift those around him, especially Johnnie. But ever since they had become roommates not long ago, Jake had noticed a shift. Johnnie was quieter, withdrawn. It was as if a specter had wrapped its fingers around Johnnie's heart, squeezing slowly.

When they met up with friends later, Johnnie laughed at all the right moments and managed to hide his weariness behind a carefree façade. His friends were oblivious, lost in the laughter and jokes, but Jake watched his best friend closely. There was an emptiness in Johnnie's laughter that gnawed at Jake's gut.

Jake went home earlyer then Johnnie since he had to work on some videos. When he got home, Jake couldn't shake the worry that mirrored his own feelings. He felt helpless, standing outside of Johnnie's closed bedroom door, his mind swirling with concern that something deeper was festering within his friend.

"I need to take a look in there," Jake muttered to himself, peering inside before stepping over the threshold.

The room was a chaotic blend of darkness, an array of posters littering the walls, clothes strewn across the floor, and the dull glow of a lamp illuminating the chaos. As he started cleaning up, a twinge of anxiety twisted in his stomach. Johnnie had always lived in organized chaos, but there was something unsettling about the current state of his friend's room, it was more upsetting than usual.

After several moments, Jake's hand brushed against something hard and cold under the bed, items he never expected to find. Curious to learn more, he knelt down to get it out, uncovering a stack of neatly folded papers—notes, filled with Johnnie's careful handwriting.

As he glanced closer, he felt his heart drop. The notes were riddled with remarks: "I'm so fat," "I don't deserve to eat," "What a waste of space I am." A rush of discomfort washed over him, twisting his gut into knots. This wasn't just discontent; it was a cry for help.

Before he could think through his next move, the sound of the front door creaked open. Jake froze, clutching the notes behind his back as Johnnie walked in, eyes downcast and weary from the night's social events.

"Hey, um, whatcha up to, Jake?" Johnnie asked, his voice thin and barely above a whisper.

"Oh, just cleaning up. You know me, the designated housekeeper," Jake replied, attempting a light-hearted tone, but the concern shimmered beneath the surface. "You look tired, man. Are you okay?"

Johnnie forced a smile, though it faltered immediately. "Yeah, just didn't sleep well last night," he muttered as he drifted towards the kitchen.

Jake's heart raced, knowing he had to confront what he found. "Johnnie, wait, can we talk for a second?"

Johnnie paused and turned, the fatigue in his eyes deepening as he crossed his arms defensively. "Sure, what's up?"

Jake took a deep breath, the notes feeling heavy in his hand. "I found something under your bed."

Johnnie's expression shifted, his guarded demeanor slipping for just a moment before he regained control. "I didn't think you'd be cleaning in there..."

"Johnnie, it's really important." Jake stepped forward, trying to catch his friend's gaze. "I found your notes."

Johnnie flinched, his breath hitching in his throat. "Can you not?" he replied, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean for anyone to see those."

"I know. But they're hurting you. I wish you'd talk to me about it instead of writing it down like this," Jake pressed, concern flooding his words. "You're drowning, Johnnie, and I hate seeing you like this."

"I'm not drowning!" Johnnie's voice was sharp, defending the dark thoughts that churned within him. "I just... I deal with it."

"But do you?" Jake took another step, reaching out as if by extending his hand he could pull Johnnie from the darkness. "This is not dealing. This is torture! You are incredible, and I want you to know that you're enough. You deserve to—"

"I know!" Johnnie snapped back, crumbling. "I know I'm supposed to, but I can't help feeling this way. Everything is so overwhelming..."

Jake's eyes softened as he listened to the words tumble from Johnnie's lips. "Talk to me."

The fight left Johnnie as he drifted to the couch, his shoulders slumping. "It's just... everything is stacking up. The pressure to be someone I'm not... I can't even look in the mirror anymore. I hate what I see."

Jake sank down beside him, gently placing a supportive hand on his back. "You're not alone in this. I know you feel that way, but I'm here, and we can work through it together. You don't have to face this battle alone."

Glancing sideways, Johnnie met Jake's concerned gaze. He saw not just pity, but genuine care. "I don't want to drag you down."

"It's not dragging me down, Johnnie," Jake said, his voice hushed but born from a vibrant passion. "I want to lift you up. That's what friends do."

Tears brimmed in Johnnie's eyes as the facade cracked. "I don't want to feel like this," he whispered. "I don't want to hate myself."

"Then let's start there," Jake replied gently, his heart aching alongside Johnnie's struggles. "We can find someone to help. You're not a burden."

.