ONESHOTS | WDW BXB [DISCONT.]

01- jarbyn • regret

this was not a request, for I wanted to start off the book n I may not ever get any.
I will say that I was a lil iffy to start the book with this, but I suppose I will.

**this has not been proofread, I'm not about that life**

SOMEWHAT BASED OFF OF:
listen before I go - billie eilish

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING⚠️
mentions of suicide

••••

Jack's head lolled back, alcohol incasing his mind when he reached a sleeve up to wipe away the mess spilling from his drunken lips.

His calves swung in the air, ankles beating against the wall  as he grimaced from how horridly the pain was increasing. His curls were slicked with sweat from how nervous he was hours before, but here he was— sitting, looking down among city lights.

Jack was ready.

He left a note, messy and stained with alcoholic tears and the heavy press of ink splotches.

Jack doubted they would arrive on time.

The chocolate-coloured optics were beginning to blur over once again, tears racing along his face from earlier on this night. It was around three, maybe.

Jack couldn't tell.

Everything was blending, swirling, aching, Jack was tired of it all— in fact, the boy was exhausted.

The bottle fell from his numbing hold, leaking out on his seat and soaking into his clothing. He scoffed, feebly using his arms to drag his body from the edge.

Jack stood, knees near buckling over with wobbling movements.

He giggled drunkenly, stood where he once sat. His foot swung in the air, easy to just let go.

Jack lifted his head up, skull lolling around his neck. The sight of the skies was dull for him. He remembered Corbyn telling him of the stars, their light.

'light travels almost three billion metres per second. the stars could be burnt out by the time we see them.'

Jack was burnt out. As burnt out as all the stars before him. The simple thought of corbyn caused for his jaw to grow taut, shaking his head in denial.

Corbyn was why he was here.

"Goodbye, world." He murmured, lips near sewn together.

Jack looked at the fast cars.

Jack fell.

Corbyn could barely see, nerves racing in his veins while tears were close to clogging his vision. He was past the speed limit, swerving in every direction of down town.

He had to find Jack.

The rest of the band were all praying, hands clinging to the car in hope that they wouldn't fly out of it. Jonah was in the passenger seat, wanting to calm corbyn.

Corbyn's hands worked fast, hearing sirens begin to ring in his ears.

He followed them.

Zach was sobbing in the back seat, wanting his best friend to be okay. He was worried, worried to the point where he was near-sick.

Daniel was attempting to calm himself and the youngest, but mainly came blank. He could only remember the moments with Jack, almost thinking he was there.

Jonah was breathing heavily, no tears falling from his eyes. He was scared that Corbyn would cause them all to crash, there was a possibility Jack wasn't dead— he could still be sitting on some rooftop— they would find him.

Corbyn froze, car stopping abruptly as everybody lurched forward in their seats, there was tape masking over a scene, and his head fell to the wheel with a heart-wrenching sob.

He could see the policemen, the medics, everybody forced to back away from the scene.

There was a plastic sheet laid out overtop someone, and from the corner he could see Jack's shoe.

Jonah watched a policeman walk out of the building, a large bottle of alcohol entirely emptied, and sealed into a bag.

His heart ached. The first time that evening. Corbyn was screaming, sobbing beside him witn his fists pounding into the car wheel. Jonah was numb, falling back into his seat with tears only now beginning to fall, he lost hope.

Zach coiled, throat aching from how hard he had cried. The door swung open and his head fell from the side, he was sick. Zach ached in all ways. Everything hurt, and this time he meant it.

Daniel pulled his knees to his chest, head digging into them with sobs echoing around the car. He didn't want to believe that Jack was dead, he prayed, he prayed so hard.

And Jack, well, he regretted it.

Everything hurt in the matter of a mixed timeline, the world swashed and swerved around in his eyes. His neck was aching enough for him to cry out, but his tongue dropped past his teeth and he couldn't, he couldn't even talk.

Jack's breath staggered and caught in his lungs, something was wrong, he couldn't breathe properly.

Jack was dead before the sirens arrived.

••••

wc: 804
this was kinda short woops

hopefully the next one wont be as bad cause I whipped this up last night n had the dumb idea to post it