The cold crawls inside Alex, curls up in his chest and settles in for a while. It's a constant presence, though one that's quiet enough that it can often be ignored. Alex does what he needs to do. He gets out of bed when he has to, eats regular meals, makes videos. It all feels a bit empty, like he's a character in a play he just doesn't want to act in anymore.
He feels alone a lot of the time too, even when he's surrounded by his friends. It's like they don't see him, they only see this performance he's putting on. It just makes him feel colder, more isolated.
There are a few days in January where he can't manage to get out of bed. George comes in to check on him at one point when he's half asleep.
"Alex," he says, shaking his friends shoulder. Alex cracks his eyes open to see George standing over him.
"You alright?" His face is drawn into a expression of subtle concern. Alex makes a soft 'mhmm'. George states a moment. "No, really Al, are you feeling ill? You've barely left your room the last two days, its four in the afternoon and you're in bed."
"I'm alright," Alex assures his friend, propping himself up on his arm. "Jus' tired is all." George looks skeptical, but takes the answer and leaves Alex alone. It's not something he wants to explain, the feeling. He doesn't think George would understand.
The whole thing feels a little bit silly even as Alex is crushed under the weight of it. He's got no reason to be so miserable. Maybe that makes it worse, there's nothing in his life he can take clear steps to fix, it's all him and his fucking dysfunctional brain.
The day after George comes to check on him he manages to haul himself out of bed around noon and film a video, the whole thing is exhausting and lifeless. He watches the footage back and is startled by how dead he looks on screen, he knows people will notice. Can practically see the comments flooding in asking if he's alright. He feels a bit sick thinking about it.
He should be comforted by the concern of thousands of strangers bur it just feels heavy, just more weight on his chest, making it harder and harder to take a breath. His eyes burn when he posts the video and he can't begin to understand why but a sudden dam inside him bursts and he can't stop himself from crying. He keeps himself quiet, muffling his sobs into the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
When is this going to end? When is he going to feel alright? What if this lasts forever? The questions circle through his head, dark and terrifying shapes.
It takes him a while to calm down, when he finally manages to get himself under control he wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and stands shakily. He stumbles out of his room and towards the bathroom. George is sitting on the couch, he looks up from his laptop when Alex passes through.
"Alex," he says firmly. Alex keeps walking. "Alex, I'm serious, what's going on. You look like you've been crying." Alex takes a deep, shuddering breath and turns to him.
"I just–" he feels choked up all of a sudden, he knows that if he says another word he'll absolutely break down. He takes another deep breath. "I don't want to talk about it," he says, each word careful and deliberate. His voice is shaky, but by some miracle he doesn't start crying again. Thankfully George just stares at him worriedly and doesn't push it any further.
Alex goes to the bath room and sees himself in the mirror, he looks like a disaster. His hair is limp and greasy, his are eyes red with dark circles beneath them. Alex is overcome with a sickening rush of disgust with himself. He can't stop himself from breaking down for the second time that night. Bracing himself on the sink he sobs breathlessly, gasping for air.
It takes the tears longer to stop this time. Alex feels like he could keep on crying until his cheeks were raw from the saltwater. When it's finally over he wants to collapse on to the bathroom floor, fall asleep on the cold tile and never wake up, but instead he uses the bathroom, splashes water on his face and goes back to his bedroom.
The last thing he does before falling asleep that night is wonder how much longer he can possibly live like this.
...
Alex wakes up at noon the next day to muffled voices from the kitchen. He manages to make out that it's James and George bickering about something.
"He doesn't want to talk," George argues.
"Yeah well I don't care what he wants. There's obviously something really wrong here," James replies.
"Don't you think I've tried to talk to him? He won't tell me anything!"
"Well then you haven't tried hard enough, have you?" James says conclusively. Alex knows what's going on and an icy feeling of dread seizes him. There are footsteps outside his door and it's too late for him to do anything except close his eyes and feign sleep. He can hear the door open and James' approaching his bed.
There's a moment where nothing happens and he thinks James might just accept that he's asleep and leave, but then he speaks.
"Alex?" He says softly, Alex keeps himself completely still, keeps his breathing even. "Hey." James puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes it gently. Alex's eyes flutter open almost against his will and he stared up at James.
"What do you want?" He mutters, even though he knows quite well what James is going to say.
"Just wanted to talk to you," he says softly, perching himself on the very edge of Alex's bed. "I'll be honest, George and I are a bit worried about you, mate."
"James..." Alex says, he pushes himself into a sitting position and leans back against the headboard. "I don't really want to talk about it."
"Too bad," James says, a bit harshly. Then he softens "Somethings obviously wrong, and it's not healthy to just keep it all inside like you are." Alex stays silent, refusing to meet James eyes. "Please, Alex, talk to me. Whatever is going on, I just want make it easier for you." And that makes something snap inside of Alex, suddenly everything comes flooding out.
"Nothings wrong," he begins, his voice flat and emotionless. "Nothings wrong in my life right now, I've got great friends and a job I love. I'm financially stable. I have no reason to be miserable at all and yet... I am." He explains. "So fucking miserable." Tears pool in his eyes and he blinks them away, he's not going to let James see him cry about this. "Everything just feels so empty and joyless sometimes... and some days I feel like there's no reason to get out of bed, or like I couldn't even if I wanted to." James is staring at him with soft eyes. "And it's so stupid, you know? I should be happy, but sometimes no matter how hard I try I just can't."
"You know what the really fucking terrifying thing is?" He continues "That right now it feels like this is never going to get any better," he's getting hysterical, gesturing wildly with his hands and talking rapidly. He registers vaguely that there are tears running down his face. He doesn't wipe them away, just keeps on talking. "It feels like I'm going to be stuck like this forever, this hollow fucking shell of a human being. I just don't even–" James grabs his hands, holds them still.
"Hey," he says. "Take a deep breath, calm down, you're freaking yourself out right now." Alex follows his commands, taking a deep inhale of air and closing his eyes. He feels James' hand wipe his teary cheek. "You're going to be okay, you felt like this before haven't you?" Alex nods slowly. "And it's never lasted forever?" Alex shakes his head. "Well, there you go. There are very few people in this world that are miserable forever, and I don't think you're one of them. I think you should get help though, talk to a doctor about this." Alex nods because he's not sure how else to respond. He opens his eyes and sees James looking at him, eyes gentle and sad. They look at each other for a minute
Alex isn't sure which one of them really initiates the hug, he sort of collapses against James at the same time that James opens his arms to receive him. James arms tighten around him, holding him right up against his chest. Alex buries his face in the crook of his friends neck.
James is warm, not warm enough to melt anything inside of Alex, but warm enough to make the cold more bearable for a little while.
