Rose

Chapter Six: Begging

When he got home, Alec was shaking, the present tucked under his arm. Vomit crept up his throat. He had done it. He had come out, invited the love of his life to the movies as planned, even got him to confess his secrets. But the haunting feeling, cold and bitter, the feeling of "what if" still rattled his bones. Sure, Rose said no, but he still knew...he knew everything...what if...

Alec shook his head and stood up straighter, walking into his room. Words of his father, God rest his soul, guided Alec through his adulthood, so they'd guide him then.

"Now you listen to me, Junior: 'If' don't exist. You think o' that word, you turn your little ass around and think straight. Only when, where, and God, you got that?"

Alec nodded, as if he was still on his old man's lap as a five-year-old, listening to his idol preach. Mac Everland died when Alec was eighteen, leaving behind a thousand bucks and a rusty guitar so Alec could remember him. That thousand bucks still sat in an antique cigar box on Alec's shelf. On the bottom, his father's scrawl still remained, imperfect but readable.

For emergencies only. No beer, women, or crap.

Dad

Fortunately for Alec, he had yet to be in an emergency that led to him spending his inheritance, but he was thankful to know that his dad left him with at least something to get him through life. Although, he often went out of his way to avoid spending his father's money, afraid to lose that piece of him without cause. He sold his car a few years ago for his surgery when he tore his ACL, his insurance having been a dick, and it would've been nice to have his tooth fixed instead of pulled, but he couldn't stand taking a dime out of that box for anything. He had only spent five dollars of it the day after he died. He bought two cans of diet Coke and sat on the same dock that he and his father used to fish on together, raising his to the lake -to his father- while the other sat in his father's place, untouched. Alec drank that night, combatting the tears with memories.

Alec hasn't been there since.

But that was six years ago, a night left in the past. Alec smiled, sitting on the bed, his gift -the only one he cared about so far- in his lap. First, he took the card off, opening it with his grin unfaltered. He leaned back, carefully opening the envelope. A blank card laid inside.

Alec,

First of all, you were very vague with your instructions on what to do on birthdays. I had to go to the library and google it.

Second of all, Happy Birthday!!!!!! I hope you like your gift, I worked all night on it!

BTW- That song you played today ROCKED. You should do originals more often, I can't get it out of my head.

Love,

Rose ♡

Alec's heart fluttered, reading it over and over again. His handwriting was a scratchy, broken mess, similar to that of a ten-year-old's. Alec's stomach jolted after realizing the reason why, but the impact wasn't enough to wipe his smile off his face. He gently put the card to the side, turning to the gift itself. He carefully peeled back the notebook paper -he assumed that Rose didn't know what gift wrap was- to expose a painting. Alec gasped, clamping his hand over his mouth. "No fuckin' way," he whispered, putting it up to the window just to be certain. It was the sunset that he had complimented Rose on the day they met, but instead of the cliff at the bottom, there was a stage. A white silhouette -Alec's silhouette- stood against it, a crisp, perfect white against the fiery gold sun, amongst the wisps of bubblegum clouds and streaks of gentle magenta accenting the burning orange of the setting star. Alec was aghast, especially at the lyrics that appeared to be carved into the stage supporting the singer's profile.