The only thing that didn't end up in the burning barrel was Jack's faux leather jacket. It was the only one that could keep him content and warm, however it had been through the rinse cycle at least six times. With the scent of cologne blending with his laundry detergent, Jack shuffled his way into the familiar bar. No one here was sober enough to remember that he'd been with Baby that night, and if they asked, he'd simply tell them that he parted ways with the young girl the moment they left the bar.


He slid onto a bar stool and felt the tension rise around him. No one was looking at him, no one was pointing fingers, but something felt different. Like they knew Baby never made it home. The music was depressing, the television was a blur and the pool table area was entirely empty. Jack swallowed a lump in his throat and ordered a draft beer.


"Jack-y Boy!"


Hearing his name being called, Jack's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He turned in his seat to see his three best friends, and their tour manager, closing in on him. Where was the rest of the crew? Better yet, why were they even here? This was supposed to be a break for Jack to get his head together. Everyone was supposed to go to their respected homes and enjoy the vacation. Not like they ever even asked if he was okay.


"Thought we might find ya here," Alex grabbed Jack by the shoulder. "You weren't home, so we came looking for you."


"W-Why are you guys here?"


"We realized that we haven't been supporting you the way we should," Matt spoke for the band, a sad smile on his face. "So, we're here to give you one last amazing night before we start tour again. Sending you home was the worst thing we could have done. We need you where we can keep you busy."


"Tour?"


"Yeah," Rian mumbled, ordering a round of beers for everyone. "Is that okay? Do you think you can handle it yet?"


A crooked grin appeared on Jack's lips. Fuck yeah he could handle it. The sooner he got away from this town, the sooner he could kiss Baby's memory goodbye. By the time he returned home, her case would be closed and he'd be free to go.


"I can't wait."


The band let out a small cheer and pulled their own bar stools up around Jack. A part of him wished it hadn't taken them so long to realize he needed help. If they'd come just a day earlier, Baby would still be alive. She never would have met Jack, nor would she have snorted cocaine in the bathroom of a dump. Guilt filled his gut again. He could never forgive himself for what he's done.


"Oh damn," Zack frowned, his eyes glued to the static on the television screen. "You never expect something like that to happen in such a friendly place."


Bile began to rise in Jack's throat. His eyes followed Zack's gaze to the screen, where Baby's school picture lingered on the screen. Below it was a missing person's case. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he read the words that followed.


October was last seen leaving Joe's Bar with an unknown man.
She has been missing for over twenty-four hours.
Information regarding her disappearance should be given to the police.
Suspected homicide.

Choking on his drink, Jack fought to catch his breath. He was drawing unwanted attention to himself. How were the police already assuming it was homicide? There was no evidence. No one had heard from Baby. There was no possible way a rumor had already spread. She hadn't been missing long enough. Unless, of course, it had something to do with the fact that a seventeen-year-old girl was in a skanky bar by herself. Still, it should be considered no more than kidnapping, right?


"You okay, bro?" Rian slapped Jack in the back, trying to help him swallow whatever was choking him up. "Did you know her, the girl?"


"Uh," Jack averted his gaze. His throat was on fire, but he couldn't allow himself to vomit at the moment. From across the bar, he could see the tender eyeing him as he wiped down the wood. It was the same man from before. He definitely knew Jack had been with Baby. "I was here that night, actually," Jack confessed, turning his attention back to Rian. "We hung out for a little bit. Some guy was about to drug her, so I got her away from him. We had a pretty good night, but when I went outside to get some air, she said she had to go home. If I had known she wasn't going to make it there, I would have walked her."


He could see all of his band mates, and his manager, frown. A loud sigh was heard from across the bar. Even the tender had bought his story. For another night, Jack was in the clear. He took it as a chance to breathe in his freedom and chug the rest of his beer. The moment his empty glass hit the table, Alex slid him a fresh one from the round Rian had perviously ordered.


"Here's to October," Zack mumbled, holding his glass in the air. "May we enjoy the life she will never get to live."


And so they toasted to Baby. While his friends were trying to create a memory for a young, missing girl who was assumed dead, he was drinking the memory he actually shared with her. Those pale cheeks, the black bags under her eyes, her purple lips.. Baby's dead body would forever haunt his dreams, for the simple fact that he stole the air from her lungs and put her under the ground.


"To October."

All five men chugged their beer quickly and ordered another round. They shared in small talk, laughing over the most random things, bonding as the brothers they'd always been. Jack had actually started to loosen up, thinking that no one in their right mind would suspect him to be Baby's murderer. He was simply a twenty-one-year-old battling a cruel addiction, touring with his friends, making the most out of life. Jack would be free from the bars of a prison cell, though he would forever down in the guilt over his actions.


Or so he thought.


Two hours into the night, they were drunk. So drunk, in fact, that they'd broken out into song. Alex was making the ladies swoon, sitting on top of the bar singing his lungs out, while Rian tapped his fingers to create a beat and Jack, Zack and Matt hummed along to follow tune. They were admired. They were loved. To be blunt, they were the center of attention.. And they loved it.


But all the cheers, the laughter, the music, it came to an end when three men in suits stepped through the enterance of the bar. Through the glass, Jack could see the lights from the cop car, while the sounds of their radios sent him into a haze. What was happening?


"Jack Bassam Barakat," an officer spoke, his black shoes clicking against the floor. "You're under arrest for the murder of October Harbor."

Notes

OH SHIT! Comments?!