When James leaves Alex is completely destroyed, a bombed out shell of a human being. For the first few days he holes up in his room and rewatches videos of them together, old live streams and episodes of the camp cast. It's dangerously easy to sink into it and forget about everything, he often catches himself grinning at the screen before it all comes rushing back and any sort of empty happiness he'd felt dissolves.
Everyone is worried about him. He can hear George and Will and Fraser having hushed discussions in the kitchen. When he comes out of his bedroom they all look at him like he's a dangerous animal. The room is silent, it feels as delicate as glass. George is the one to snap the tension.
"Hey," he says cautiously.
"Hi," Alex says. These are his best friends, why does he feel like he's stumbled across a group of strangers sitting in his kitchen? They keep staring at him as he shuffles over to the sink and fills a glass of water. He can feel their eyes searing into him.
When he turns to face then again he offers them a weak smile as some kind of reassurance. Permission to stop worrying about him so much. They all return the smile, looking relieved.
Alex takes his water back to his room and starts sobbing before he can take a sip. Will comes in to talk to him later that evening. He sits down uncomfortably in Alex's desk chair.
"Listen, Alex," he says, clearing his throat. "I know that this is really hard for you, but I want you to know that we're here for you. We're all here for you, me and George and Fraser. If you ever want to talk about it, we're here." It doesn't take much to crack Alex.
"I just don't get it," he says. "I thought we were happy. We seemed happy didn't we?" Will nods.
"Yeah," he answers. "You did."
"Then why did he leave?" Alex asks, he sounds desperate and pathetic even to his own ears.
"I don't know, mate," Will sighs. "I think he just wanted to get out of the YouTube thing and he didn't think he could do that if he was with you." That's what James told him before fucking off to Spain to work as a translator, but Alex just can't wrap his head around it.
"I just don't understand," Alex says.
"It was fucking stupid of him," Will says. "But it happened and I hate to say it, but you've really just got to deal with it." Alex sniffs. "You're going to be alright, yeah?" Alex shrugs. "You are." Will insists.
...
At night, Alex sometimes feels like he's clawing at the air. He needs some kind of comfort, but nothing gives it to him. Not YouTube videos or music or even drinking
Normally, when Alex feels bad asking for help is completely out of the question, he won't even consider, but during nights like these he's just so desperate he's not even thinking. And it doesn't help that he's a bit tipsy. He texts Will, his fingers flying across the keyboard.
The message is just two words, 'really lonely'. Will replies in less than a minute telling him to come over. Alex doesn't hesitate, he puts on his slippers and pads quietly down to Will's apartment.
Will welcomes him inside and folds him into a hug almost immediately, which startles Alex. He settles into the embrace.
"You alright?" Will asks, squeezing his shoulder.
"Not really," Alex answers, muffled into Will's chest.
"You wanna play Fifa or something? Get your mind off of things?" Will asks.
"Not really," Alex says again.
"What do you want?" Alex feels his face flush with heat even as he begins to say.
