(A/N: Hey guys, so this is a short filler but still, I cried while writing it. I hope you enjoy it. Please read the author's note at the bottom!)
~~~
Alex
After I saw my son, I needed a break from everything. I stormed onto our tour bus, and since everyone else was sightseeing, I picked up my jacket and called the taxi company.
After a very awkward ride with a Middle-Eastern driver, I arrived at my parents' old house in the outskirts of Harlow.
"Wait outside," I said to the driver, and walked through the gates.
I stared at the house from the front lawn where I stood, and it looked identical to how I remembered it. It caused a smile to creep on my face, and memories to flood back to mind.
All those memories with my brother from when we were kids, all the good times we'd had before he died, started coming to mind. And suddenly, I heard someone start talking to me.
"Alex," he said.
It couldn't be.
"Tom?" I asked, goosebumps all over my body. I couldn't see him, but I could hear him very clearly. Moreover, I could feel his presence everywhere around him.
I was speaking to my dead brother.
"I've been waiting for you to come back so we could talk." I stayed silent. "I miss you, dude."
"I miss you too man," I replied.
"How's Mom and Dad?"
"They're both good, I think. But it's hard without you."
Tom was completely quiet for a while, then he smiled.
"What've you done, bro," he said with his signature chuckle.
"I know, man," I sighed, and for a second, I'd forgotten he wasn't with us anymore. "I'm a fucking idiot."
"Eve seems like a nice girl, man."
"She is," I agreed. Way to make me feel better, Tom.
"What are you going to do? I mean, she still loves you."
That took me aback. "What do you mean?"
"She was in a coma for a week, man. I spoke to her."
I decided not to question him. After all, I was the crazy one having a conversation with my dead brother.
"What are you going to do?" he asked again when I didn't reply.
"I'm going to talk to her," I said, my voice full of determination.
"Hey, before you go," he interrupted. "Would you mind singing that song you wrote for me?"
I considered this for a second, but in the end, the song was about him. "Sure, man. Do you know where I can get a guitar?"
"Your old nylon-string is in the shed in the backyard."
I walked over to the green shed we had in our yard, and got stuck when I noticed that there was a PIN code lock on the door.
"Try 1412," Tom said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.
Sure enough, that was the code. "Why?" I asked.
"I changed it from my birthday to yours before I- you know. I did the same with the safe, too."
"Fuck you, Tom," I said, smiling. "I was grounded for months because of that."
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teenage dirtbag // a.g
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