Colors (An Alex Turner/Miles Kane fanfiction) (Milex)

15 | White

"You said you'll never be forgiven"

Alex's POV

They say you'll always remember exactly what you were doing when your world falls apart, and they'd be correct. I was in the shower when Van burst in and called out to me, I didn't notice the desperation in his voice due to the water running, I thought he was just playing around. Unfortunately, the world around me became bleak as I felt all of the life inside me drain away.

I stumbled out of the shower, haphazardly wrapping a towel around myself, asking Van to repeat himself.

He cleared his throat and the sadness that shone in his eyes was the only indication I needed, I had heard correctly. Miles was in the hospital.

I sunk down to the ground, my body landing with a thump against the cool floor, Van followed suit and wrapped his skinny frame around me in a comforting hug and then I just lost it, the dam to my emotions breaking.

"This is all my fault," I murmured.

"I can't believe I was so stupid. I hate Brendon. If I ever see him again I swear to God I'll--"

Van cut my rant off with a soft shushing sound, we both knew I was just spewing nonsense at this point. I cried in the arms of my best friend as he rocked me back and forth, murmuring soft reassurances ever so often.

----

I don't think anyone ever gets used to the fluorescent lights of the hospital paired with the bleak white walls. Not to mention the smell of bleach and despair, as soon as I step foot into the room I shudder. Van puts his hand on my back, urging me forward. My eyes scan around the full waiting room, eventually landing on a familiar face. Brad sat in the corner, his eyes glued to the illuminated phone screen in his hand. I approached warily, the sound of my shoes making scuffing noises against the linoleum. He looked up with a sad tight smile set on his lips.

"Hey, Alex," Brad stood and gave me a small hug before nodding to Van.

I bit down on my lower lip in worry, staring at the older man in front of me. It looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. His button-down shirt was wrinkled and his usually perfectly styled hair was a mess.

"So," he began, plopping down in the rickety waiting room chair, looking up at me with saddened eyes.

"They say it was attempted suicide but I highly doubt that. I just--" his voice cracked and he apologized before continuing,

"I just can't imagine Miles doing something like that."

I heard Van utter something besides me but I couldn't hear anything over the piercing noise that suddenly flooded my ear drums. The lights were too bright, the hospital smell too strong, and I had to grab onto my best friend for support.

Brad raised an eyebrow in concern before gesturing to the seat beside him. Van helped me sit down and I quickly shook my head.

"There's no way he'd do that. I mean he's Miles! He's supposed to be the one that has his shit together!" I let out a bitter laugh, Brad doing the same.

"Yeah, he is," He mumbled sadly. "I think that's the problem. We all assumed that he could handle anything that was sent his way. The stealing at the club, the club itself, money issues, everything. It's my fault I'm supposed to be his right-hand man, he's my best fucking friend and I didn't even realize! He never said anything but I should've known," The words tumbled out of Brad faster than lightning, I put a hand on his knee briefly to indicate my listening.