The Boy Next Door (An All Time Low Fanfiction)

Nine

Alex's P.O.V

Apple and cinnamon. The scent's so strong, it feels like as if I was 6 again, sitting on the countertop of our kitchen in England. My mom would bake apple pies, with lots and lots of cinnamon, just how we liked it.

It's just a freaking scented candle, stupid.

But then again everything in this world just doesn't stop reminding me of him. It never will. Doesn't matter how hard I try.

Her room is an art space. Drawings cover the walls, a stool with an unfinished painting on a canvas lay near the window. It's just how I imagined it would be on the inside, and not from 10 feet away, from the view from my bedroom.

My fingers trace on the surface of her drawings on the wall. They're... Amazing. I can clearly get the message she's poured onto it.

"Anger. Hatred and frustration." I say out of my concious mind, I realize that I'm talking about one of her drawings

"They're nothing." She snaps

I continue to scan the other paper taped next to it, "And this one.. Joy? Happiness?"

"Can we not focus on that, please?" She says uncomfortably

I turn my gaze away from her drawings and move over towards her desk, where her art utensils are scattered. One thing about her room, is that it's so warm in here that I'm starting to sweat in my suit. I take the blazer off and rest it on the chair. Much better.

"I didn't see you at Homecoming." She says, breaking the silence

"I know, we ditched it. Me and my friends." I confess

"Why?"

"We're too cool for homecoming." I smirk

Well to be honest, that's not 100% true.

We were gonna go to homecoming, but then suddenly Jack decided to pull out some booze he'd managed to steal off his brother's supplies. If I had to choose between the horrible punch they always serve and a bottle of free Jack D, I wouldn't miss it for the world.

So we ditched homecoming, and stayed in Zack's basement the whole night until my mom started to blow my phone up with missed calls and texts at around 1. She thought I was going to homecoming. Rian finally drove me home which was fortunate that the both of us got home safely since we'd been consuming alcohol non stop.

And of course, I got to be greeted home by my overprotective parents who were about to call the police and file a report. After our usual argument I decided that I'd had enough of it.

I mentioned about him.

I know it wasn't right of me to say but I was so sick of being treated like a child.

Maybe it's because I'm just so much like him in many ways.

"What was that about?" She furrows her brows, bringing me back from my thoughts

"What was what about?" I ask in return

"You.. And your mom." She stutters a bit

"I don't wanna talk about it." I snap, a bit too harsh.

She flinches a bit. I swear I didn't mean it to sound that harsh

I let out a huge sigh, "Well, I actually do want to talk about it."

"I came home drunk past my curfew, it wasn't the first time. They found out that I'd ditched homecoming and drank all night instead. I was just so pissed, they always treat me like I'm a baby." I admit