Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Fifty

           

-Jack's POV-

            I took another sip of my soda, mindlessly staring off across the mall. I'd had a copious amount of free time since leaving Road Trip, and I'd spent it...Doing nothing. Getting high, I guess. I'd been living off of McDonalds and microwave pizza, and this was my first time leaving the house in almost a week.

            I wasn't even quite sure why I did – To get some clothes that didn't reek of marijuana, I guess. My sister had crinkled her nose up any time I passed her on my way to the bathroom, and then whispered urgently that I better do something about the smell before our parents found out.

            I didn't really care if they did, but still, here I was, looking for some clothes and Febreeze. I supposed that I couldn't sit around and sulk about a decision that I had made forever, but I was now forced to face that fact that I had no idea what to do with my life. What did I even want to do?

            I didn't know. It was Monday, the worst day of the week, and also the day that I was supposed to have been back at the flat. And, instead, I was here, listlessly loitering around at the mall's food court while they played Perfect over the loudspeakers. It reminded me of when we'd covered it, and I considered buying a pair of ultra strong earmuffs so I would never have to listen to music again. It brought back too many memories of things that I didn't want to think about. The wound was still too raw.

            I had thought that breaking away from all of the chaos would've brought me some sort of happiness, but I hadn't even felt a trace of a positive emotion since I had hung up the phone call with Blair. It was becoming clear to me that I'd made a mistake, had an err of judgement, but it was too late to go back now. The damage was done, and although it wouldn't be easy, I was forced to live with the choices that I had made – Alone.

            And maybe that was the hardest part of all – The fact that it was, had always been, more than just a band to me. They were my four best friends, but I'd forced myself to become distant from all of them, even though Brooklyn still texted me every day. I wondered if Blair had told them yet, or how he had broken the news.

            Sitting there and dwelling on that stuff made me want to flip the table over and run out of the building, so instead I got up, tossing my cup into the garbage, even though it was still mostly full. Turning around, I found myself face to face with a girl who I sort of recognized.

            "Jack?" She asked, voice teeming with excitement.

            "Hey," I said, unsure of where I'd seen her before, and uncomfortable with having to make conversation.

            "Hi," she said, almost as if in awe, her smile taking up her whole face – I must've met her at a gig before. One more toss of salt into the open wound. "May I get a picture?" She asked, already taking her phone out.

            "Sure," I said, even though I felt a little uncomfortable doing so. I wasn't in Road Trip anymore. I didn't deserve to be recognized. As we were taking selfies, it dawned upon me: The fans didn't even know yet. How would they be told? How would they react?

            The fear that began to fill me became all the more real as she asked, "Why aren't you back at the flat? I watched Brooklyn's live.ly earlier."

            Even though I easily could've come up with some stupid excuse, like that I was leaving that night, my brain decided to desert me, leaving me standing like a deer in the headlights.

            "Uhm, I'm sorry, it was nice meeting you," I mumbled before fast walking away, breaking off into a trot when I thought that I was far enough away. I ran until I reached a bathroom, where I then proceeded to lock myself into one of the stalls.

            Sitting there, crouched on a toilet lid, breathing heavily, I deeply regretted what I had done. I didn't even try to calm myself down, certain that I deserved this punishment.

            In a way, it sort of felt like the end of the world.