Noodle Boy | Jachary | Book One

Thirty-Two

Zach

Tour.

An amazing time to meet fans and hear amazing stories, but also time where I spend most doing homework.

Somehow, the school decided to pile the most homework on the weeks where I have things to do constantly. I was just recently assigned two major projects due in a week and a half.

I sighed as I typed out a few more words. It was right before a show, and I was trying my best to get as much as I could done.

"Zach, we need to go." Corbyn said, pulling me out of the chair. I was already dressed; I did that this morning. I just wasn't out there to do the things we needed.

I have been very stressed lately. Dealing with school, work, and my feelings for Jack. I have been trying to make them stop, because I knew that the feeling would never be satisfied. Jack and I would never be together.

I walked into the building and over to the other boys, getting ready to see the people who got Limelight.

I love meeting new people. New fans. They were all amazingly kind which made the experience amazing.

But what people don't realize, is that they have stories. They have stories that no one knows about until they say or it slowly destroys them. And I could see that pain washed away when I saw some of them.

We all can take different limits. We have our own paces at things, different patience times, and some of us have less of an ability to keep their mind strait without losing it all.

I could tell that I helped a few of them. Some of them had hard lives and when they met us, they were relieved for the short time we had.

If only I could make their lives happier by staying with them forever. I don't like people to hurt, and when that happens, I feel their pain.

I also deal with my own pain, but due to being famous, it is open. Open for anyone and everyone to see or make fun of.

Thank god that hasn't happened yet.

People can be hurting, and no one  will notice until the damage is done.

I sighed and greeted the people who came in. They were all amazing and fun to hang out with.

—

Performing was amazing.

I was on stage, singing my heart out with my best friends. Like how I wanted it to always be. But we will eventually move on, away from everything we made, and away from everyone.

I won't see Jack everyday. I couldn't do that.

I let out a small sigh as I got in position for the next song. It was amazing what we could do. So I suppose I should just live in the moment.

But you can't, because there is such thing as worries and memories, that keep you from right now, and then you are stuck with bad ideas that won't ever go away.

And I had a bad idea, a bad feeling about this concert and I did not know why.

Maybe because there was a shriek that sounded throughout the giant room. Maybe because the crowd started running towards the exits. Maybe because there was a man in the middle of the room, pointing a gun at a boy, a poor, innocent boy, who was trying to live his messed up life the best way he could.

That boy was me. I had a gun aimed at me, death due upon me at the dance of a finger. And I knew it was it.

I had a great life. Fame lasted as it did, and family was semi-great. Not the best, but not the worst.

I was greeting death. I thought that I needed it.

And when I closed my eyes, when I heard the shot, and I heard the groan of pain, I never felt death. Or anything near it. Just a floor that I hit while Jack hit it too, but there was blood around him.

I let out a blood curdling scream as I saw him there. Jack, sitting there, dying.

He was dying. All because of me.

Jonah ran up to me and pulled me up, attempting to drag me away and turn my face to stop looking at the mess I made.

As Jonah rounded me around the corner, I could see cloth by cloth be moves from the wound, soaked red.

Jack could die because of me.

Finally, somehow, the tears just started to spill. I turned to Jonah, and put my head on his chest. It was all my fault, again.

I deserve to die. I have caused too much pain because I do this. Life would be so much easier without me.

—

Sometimes, when someone you love hurts, you hurt too. You try not to, but you have to. Because somehow, hurting is the real coping.

You have to hurt to deal. You need pain to get over pain. To tell you that pain will happen, and to get over it.

But some things you can't get over. It is how it is. Some things just make you who you are and there is no way to change that.

Sometimes, you just have to deal with it or else you will never get over it. You need to find something important to make that moment less painful.

But what will hurt more is if the person hurt is the thing that made life less painful.

Your high will be gone and all you will be is low. The thing keeping you from crossing the edge will slip, making you fall. And eventually, you will fall to the worst part of you. The part you can't deal with without them. And then you will give up emotion.

And if you give up emotion, everyone loses their emotions towards you. So, in the end, was that life really worth it?

If it was just going to end badly anyways, what is the point?

——
Oof. To me, that was deep. No one really understands you unless you can actually tell them without them seeing you differently.

Word Count: 1034