Keep the Change, You Filthy Animal

Chapter 15

Jack.

-

To say I was in shit would have been an understatement. It would have been the understatement of the century, actually.

Tracey. Told. My. Mom. About. Alex. God, I was pretty sure the entire Battle of the Bands staff could hear her yelling at me about how I was a sinner and a crime against nature over the phone. And that was just the beginning.

She said she was coming over to my apartment sometime that week...you know, the apartment that Alex now LIVES in? Yeah, that one. So, long story short, I needed to find a solution that didn't involve evicting my two best friends. And fast.

Alex.

-

I couldn't sleep. I mean, I could a little, because I was so goddamn exhausted, but just the vital amount. We were all pretty worn out from practicing every time we had a second to ourselves - Zack had even taken a break from his job and Jack had convinced the college that he had some kind of terminal illness, faking his parents' signature as well as the doctor's - so it didn't really show that I was particularly having trouble settling my thoughts. At least that's what I hoped.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get my father's words out of my mind. Even the sight of him was haunting me every night. This night was no different.

We were all sleeping at Jack's apartment because we didn't want to bother Rian's parents any more than we already did. It was quiet here, but not too quiet. I could hear the traffic sometimes, police sirens and whatnot. It was actually kinda' nice.

The bad part was that now that Zack had moved in with us, we didn't have enough sleeping space anymore. Jack's bed was big enough for two, and apart from that he had his super comfty couch and a whole lot of floor. So we all took turns sleeping on the floor. Guess whose turn it was this time...

Next to me, up on the - super comfty - couch, Jack was sleeping like a baby. His arm hung over the side so he could hold my hand, but I'd already let go of it.

I wanted to tell him so bad. About my dad, about his stupid request. About how I stubbornly tried to convince myself that I would ignore it even though I knew it was impossible for me to do that.

I couldn't let him die. Not because of me. Even if sometimes I felt like I hated him enough to kill him myself, I just couldn't... I just couldn't. Just like I couldn't bring myself to tell Jack, even though I knew he would want to know. Even though it would only be fair for him to know. I was just a fucking coward.

The Battle of the Bands was in two days, and I didn't even know what I would do with the money or how. If we even won in the first place. Which I doubted. In the end, maybe we would just lose, and there would be no money. Assholeski would take care of my father and I'd probably never see Jack again. I almost wished it would end like that, so I wouldn't have to choose between giving the money to Jack or my dad.

But no. No. I had to pull myself together. I had to fight until the very end. We had a chance. Well, not with the name Rian had come up with for our band, but once that was taken care of, we would have a chance at winning this. We were good, much better than I used to be, much better than so many bands I'd heard. We were meant to be. Aaaand cue cheesy love song.

Alright Alex, time to sleep. For real this time. I hoped that for once, I would dream of the Battle of the Bands, or Jack, or those Bride dudes, anything but the encounter with the last person I wanted to call 'family'.

I closed my eyes and drifted into some kind of trance-like snooze.

I am alone. I am lying on my bed, and it's dark. I don't know how long it's been, but I'm waiting for something. I don't know what, but I don't really ask myself. I'm just desperately waiting for it. Downstairs, I hear a bottle break. The sound echoes through the room and rings in my ears. Suddenly, there are bottles breaking everywhere. They surround me, shattering to pieces for no apparent reason. They don't touch me, but I am terrified of them. I try to hide under the sheets but there are no sheets. I am lying on a mountain of broken bottles that cut through my skin and make my hands bleed. Suddenly, I hear a voice. It's my father. "They're gone!" he yells. "They're gone and they'll never come back! They're gone!" He starts repeating it until all I can hear are those three words and the noise of the bottles and screaming, so much screaming. WAKE UP. But I can't. I am caught up in the storm and I can't run, I can't move. ALEX. They're gone. They're gone. Who is gone? I don't know, but it hurts so bad. It hurts so bad. ALEX, FOR FUCK'S SAKE.