What If?// More WDW BxB: Corbyn-Shots

Where Do Broken Hearts Go: Jack

Jonah: 27
Daniel: 27
Jack: 26
Corbyn: 25
Zach: 24
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Summary: He fucked up, bad

Jack's POV
I looked up at our apartment building with a sigh, dreading having to go up there and face all of them after so long apart. After what I had done.

I sighed, pressing my forehead into the steering wheel, I couldn't do this. I wasn't brave enough.

What if they didn't want me anymore?

What if they had moved on?

I peeked up at a noise, coming face to face with Zach, except he didn't know I was there.

Jonah was with him, an arm draped over his shoulders.

They stopped in front of Zach's car, Jonah knocking his head against the younger's. Getting a laugh and a kiss from him.

I deflated a little. It was sick that I was hoping they would be broken without me, I knew that, but to see them so at ease, as if nothing had happened between us.

I wiped at my tears, before pulling out of the parking lot, driving to nowhere in particular as my cheeks grew wetter and wetter.

God, I couldn't do this.

How did I mange to fuck up so badly?

~ That Night ~

I closed the door to my hotel room, already pulling off my shirt while walking over to the bed.

I dropped down onto it once it touched my legs, nuzzling my face into the pillow, desperately trying to ignore how empty the full-size was without all of them trying to squeeze their way on.

Trying not to think of how I was the only one alone. How they had each other.

But I did, I thought of Jonah's possessive grip around my waist, of Corbyn's cheek against my chest.

I thought of Zach's quiet little snores and Daniel's even, deep breaths.

I thought of big, tear-filled eyes and last kisses. Of angry, hurt glares and broken hearts.

How did I ever manage to fuck things up so badly?

I had had it all, more than it all, honestly.

Four boys.

Four amazing, beautiful boys that had tried so fucking hard to love me with everything they had and I had been to blind to see it. To caught up in my own insecurities.

I had pushed them away.

I had used them.

But more than anything, I had hurt them.

Of course they would never forgive me! I would never forgive myself either, not when they had looked at me the way they had.

Not after what I had done.

But I knew I had to make this right, even if they never took me back, I had to fix this.

I needed them to know that I had changed, that I had grown. That I knew exactly how bad I had fucked up and that I would do anything to make it right.

Confronting them all at once was a death wish, I would never be strong enough for that, but if I could talk to them one by one, maybe I could fix us.

Maybe they would love me again.

I rolled over onto my back, sighing to the ceiling, letting the scene from earlier play in my mind.