Love Song (LGBTQ+) (COMPLETED)

52. Unfetter

With a bag over his shoulder, Jay stood at the doors with the necks of the two guitars he had with him in each hand. In his typical way-too-tight black jeans and just as dark hoodie, his wavy blonde hair fell down the sides of his face as he continued to only smirk quietly while a professionally dressed woman stood off to the right waiting for Jay to finish up with whatever business he had left. At that moment, I suppose the only business he had left was saying something to me.

A few hours earlier, I had asked Jay who was coming to pick him up. He told me that the manager who was standing off a bit away, which led into any family that he had left. He said the only family he knew of was his grandmother, who was going to be spending the rest of her life in prison, and a dad that he had never met. After telling me about his grandmother, Jay became sort of vague about everything else. Given who he was, I didn't really blame him for not wanting to expose his past. If anything, it was probably in his best interest for him to bury it just like his label seemed so bent on doing.

While he had his hands full with all of his stuff, I took the chance to attack him as I wrapped arms around his torso and buried my face into the warm black hoodie he was wearing over one of his typical v-necks. If I was being honest, I really didn't have any idea what I was doing or even trying to do. I just felt the urge to hug Jay right at that moment. Even if it was only a month, I learned a lot about myself and who I'd become with him in this place, both the good and the bad. Jay, whether it had been either of those, was always there.

The way he spoke and looked at me never changed. There were so many times I came inches away from giving up only to be stopped by him and something he said. Even if it was only a month, he allowed me to lean on him when he was just as weak as I was. For that, there wasn't much I could do to thank him for any of it. The only thing I was able to do for him was this. Hugging him at that moment was the best I could do to show him the appreciation he deserved for being there when the equivalent of a stranger needed someone the most.

"Thank you." my voice was muffled behind the thickness of his hoodie.

Jay used his fists to push me away, his guitars still bundled within each fist. Slowly, the pitch black guitar in his right hand continued to further extend itself towards my chest until it's body lightly tapped my thigh first. For a moment, I stood in confusion as my eyes dashed between the guitar and Jay himself. I didn't have much of an idea of what he was trying to say or do with the guitar he was holding out. I was so confused that my mind hadn't registered the simple fact that Jay was handing it over to me. For what? I had no idea.

"Keep it. You can thank me by helping me make my best album yet." Jay leaned the guitar against my waist, smirking. "After all your court stuff is over, give me a call. Don't think you're getting out of being featured on this album, 'cause you aren't."

A slow turn and a lazy wave later, I was shown the sight of Jay's back as he passed through the same doors I was going to be heading out of the next day. Standing in that same spot, I lifted the guitar that reeked of spray paint by its neck and lied it flat on top of my other hand. He carried so much history with this guitar, from the beginning of his career to the very day he handed it over to me. It was for that reason that I was sure of what he meant by giving it to me. He wanted me to keep looking forward and keep fighting, just like he did. This guitar was a symbol of that for him, so he wanted to make sure it was for somebody else.

A week passed since that afternoon.

I had gotten out after having a meeting with Rebecca about my MCET therapy and how I wanted to schedule it over the next twelve weeks. The first thing that happened after getting out was Grace and my mom dragging me to some over-the-top restaurant that I was seriously underdressed for, where they pestered me with how proud they were of me for going and getting through it. Even if they said they were proud, I simply wasn't anywhere near proud of myself for doing anything.