Jack POV

I suddenly jerked awake, breaking out of my deep sleep immediately. It felt as if someone had just shoved me, and I wasn’t sure if I had just imagined it or not. If I did, it would seem that my imagination is rather vigorous, because the make-believe shoving very nearly caused me to fall out of bed…

…My bed which seemed to be trembling…

What the fuck is going on?

I instinctively gripped my duvet tightly to hold on for dear life.

I couldn’t see a thing through the consuming darkness, but the sound of several people snoring filled the room, attacking my ears and echoing a hundred times louder in my painful and throbbing head. I groaned, running my fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp.

I felt like someone had literally picked up a bat and beaten the shit out of me with it, because I hurt everywhere. Apparently the effect of the alcohol had worn off and I was no longer numb and practically invincible from pain; I was just a battered and bruised wreck now.

As I lay in my bed, I could hear a low rumbling coming from underneath the bus. The random thought that we were being abducted by aliens popped into my mind before I had time to think rationally. (Fuck knows why my automatic conclusion involves aliens in these situations.)

It took me a while to realise that the low rumbling sound belonged to the tour bus engine, not aliens. It also occurred to me at that point that we were in a moving tour bus, driving on what seemed to be an unnaturally bumpy road.

At first the realisation confused my sleepy brain… But then I remembered that the tour was over and therefore we must now be on our way to the airport… On our way home finally.

I didn't want to go home. Life off the road is always tough when there’s no one beside you. But maybe it will be different for me this time... I could have a girlfriend for the first time in near enough a year, if Rian keeps his word.

I felt the slightest glimmer of hope at the idea that I might not be all alone, which I held onto because I felt sick in the stomach at the thought of going home to nothing again.

…Wait, I feel really sick in the stomach…

I wasn’t sure whether it was a result of the insanely bumpy road, or the mere thought of being alone for a whole month until the next time we toured, or just my hangover striking without warning, BUT all of a sudden, my sensitive stomach seemed to flip over inside of me, making me very nauseous.

I groaned loudly again and flung back my bed covers, jumping out of bed immediately. The room was dark and I couldn’t see much, but I staggered towards the dim light shining under the crack of the door, trying to remain standing despite the unhelpful movement of the bus driving over holes and bumps.

I wasn’t really being considerate in terms of noise, but no one seemed to stir in the room as I stumbled out of it and headed for the bathroom, covering my mouth to stop myself throwing up until I reached the toilet.

Maybe it’s due to a number of factors this time, but it seems that my hangovers are getting more violent every time I drink alcohol. Maybe I should avoid the drink for a while… But then, how will I escape the pain? I think I’m slowly becoming dependent on this alcohol to make me feel numb and indestructible… I think it’s just a phase.

I stayed in the bathroom with my head in the toilet for what seemed like hours, but then, I eventually managed to drag myself to my feet with a lot of effort and lurch towards the door. But something caught my eye as I staggered past the mirror, causing me to stop in front of it and stare at myself; I found myself weirdly repulsed yet captivated by my reflection.

Seeing my appearance was enough to make the memories of last night come flooding back to the front of my mind. My face was covered in cuts and dark bruises, but the physical damage that had been caused was nothing compared to the emotional damage.

I could vaguely remember Alex punching me… I remembered the force of the punch was strong, but it didn’t actually hurt. The fact that he had punched me was more scarring. But not more scarring that the fact that he had married Lisa.

I brought my fingers up to caress the bruise Alex had left on me; it was just a reminder of what happened last night. The night we fell apart.

I examined the blood-soaked bandages on my hand and on my arm as I held my bruised cheek. It was obvious that the physical damage I had caused myself was pretty severe… I had definitely scarred myself physically, but still, the emotional scars seemed more permanent and painful somehow. There’s an ache in my heart.

Sighing, I let my hand fall away from my face and I eventually exited the bathroom. I decided with a yawn to head back to bed and try to get some more sleep, but as I made my way in the direction of the bedroom, I heard something that made my heart and feet stop in their tracks.

“If you had listened to me, you wouldn’t be feeling like this right now,” a voice echoed around the empty room and inside my empty head.

That familiar, pissed off voice was no stranger to me.

I wheeled around in confusion, wondering whether Alex’s agitated voice was acting as a conscience inside my head or if it was real.

My silent question was answered when my eyes fell on Alex, sitting at the kitchen table. He wasn’t looking at me; he was looking down at a piece of paper on the table instead, holding his head in his hands.

I immediately narrowed my cold eyes at him, even though he was oblivious to it.

“Actually, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t be feeling like this right now,” I corrected him, folding my arms tenaciously.

This made him look up and frown at me instead of the paper.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He demanded, looking seriously confused.

Use your fucking brain, Alex.

I rolled my eyes at him indiscreetly.

“I only got myself into such a state last night because I was fucking upset, Alex, thanks to you,” I snapped, making it crystal clear for him.

He stared at me for a while with a rigid frown on his face; I stared back with analysing eyes, trying to read his emotion. He was attempting to hide behind a hard exterior, but his eyes betrayed his disguise; I could see it in them that I had touched a raw nerve.

Suddenly, his eyes wandered away from the contact they held with mine and lowered to rest on my bandaged arm and hand.

“I’m not worth the pain you put yourself through,” he whispered, staring fixated with a saddened look in his eye at my blood-covered bandages.

I know that. I know I shouldn’t care about Alex as much as I do. I know he’ll only keep hurting me. But I can’t stop loving him. I can’t erase the hurt inside.

“I know you’re not,” I retorted bluntly. “But knowing that doesn’t make it any less painful.”

He sighed heavily and averted his gaze back to its original focus on the paper on the table in front of him. I was hoping he might have something to say to me. You could say you’re sorry. But he was clearly done with this conversation. And quite frankly, so was I.

My eyes wandered absent-mindedly to the clock on the wall, searching for the time, and they widened slightly at just how early in the morning it was.

“What are you doing up at this time?” I blurted out,

I didn’t particularly want to talk to him anymore, but my surprise and curiosity got the better of me.

“Writing a song,” he replied mechanically, not bothering to look up again.

I stared at him, sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. The piece of paper he was staring at had about three lines of writing on it as far as I could see, and there was no sign of a pen nearby at all. Clearly the writing process had come to a halt.

“Well, it looks like it’s going well, I must say,” I scoffed. “But it’s 4 in the fucking morning… Why are you awake?”

I have a good excuse as to why I’m up and about. Alex doesn’t… Writing a song at this time is just verging on insanity.

He shrugged half-heartedly.

“I can’t sleep,” he retorted like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Everything was awkwardly silent between us for a while, and I wasn’t quite sure why my feet were refusing to take me out of the room; I wanted to go back to bed, yet I remained standing in the same spot, looking at Alex.

“What’s the song called?” I asked out of curiosity again, almost forgetting that I was still angry at him, because I was intrigued.

He hesitated, running his fingers through his matted hair almost as a form of procrastination.

“Daydream Away,” he eventually mumbled, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I thought I had heard it wrong.

“Daydream away?” I repeated, cocking an eyebrow inquisitively, but he was still too busy refusing to look at me to notice. “Huh. That sounds uplifting."

Yeah, I was in a sarcastic mood. I often resort to sarcasm when I’m pissed off or uncomfortable around someone… I use it as a defence.

He didn’t reply. The conversation was dead and I wasn’t going to be the one to revive it, so I decided I was done talking to him and it was time to go back to bed.

My feet suddenly became un-paralysed, letting me turn my back on Alex and walk towards the bedroom door again. But I got as far as taking a few steps in that direction, before I suddenly tripped and fell over with a not-so-graceful crash, landing on my poor hands and knees.

I groaned loudly and looked around in disorientation.

“What the fuck just happened?” I wondered aloud in complete bewilderment as I climbed to my feet again slowly, not understanding how I could be so clumsy as to just fall over like that with no cause.

I momentarily forgot Alex was in the room while I was cursing under my breath in a world of my own, but then suddenly he informed me in a slightly amused voice, “You fell over my pen.”

I stopped muttering profanities immediately and lowered my eyes to the floor in search of this so-called pen that decided to trip me up... And there it was, lying there right next to my foot... The fucking scheming pen.

I felt like one of those idiots in a lame comedy sketch or a classic cartoon that falls over a fucking banana skin or something.

I narrowed my eyes and abruptly span around on the spot to face Alex. He was staring at me again, now wearing a smirk that infuriated me and made me go weak in the knees both at the same time.

“What the fuck is your pen doing all the way over here on the floor?” I demanded, irritated.

The look on my face seemed to wipe the smirk off of his. His facial features contorted into a more neutral, bored expression.

“I threw it,” he shrugged simply.

Uh… Why did he- Actually, you know what? I don’t care.

I glared at him with the deepest frown I could muster, before exhaling loudly in annoyance and turning to walk away again, carefully making sure to look down at the floor and watch where I stepped this time.

“Jack…” Alex suddenly called cautiously after me as I was leaving.

What now?

I glanced wordlessly over my shoulder, staring at him expectantly.

“Could you pass me my pen?” He asked in a completely serious tone of voice.

What?! Did he just... Oh, he did NOT just ask me that!

So, he threw his pen across the room in a moment of rage, no doubt… Then I came along and conveniently tripped over it and went flying across the room… And now the lazy fucker wants me to kindly return his pen back to him?

I am so not amused right now.

I glared at Alex with a frustrated expression that said ‘what do you think?!’ But he didn’t seem to read my expression correctly, because he added "Please?" in a small voice.

I raised my eyebrows at him slightly, surprised that he was pleading with me for something as stupid as a pen.

But then I finally heaved a sigh of defeat and like the generous pushover of a friend that I am, I bent down and picked up the damn pen… which I then proceeded to throw at him as hard as I could, like the angry and frustrated friend that I am. Are you happy now?

I’ll never know how I managed it, because I have the worst aim in the world, but the pen flew from my hand and hit him right in the head.

“Oww, you fucker!“ Alex immediately exclaimed in a whiny voice, flinching violently and clutching a hand to his head where the pen had collided.

It was really rather funny. I had to press my lips together to stop myself from laughing, because I didn’t really want to piss him off more and start some kind of pen war… However, I couldn’t prevent the corners of my lips turning up slightly at the edges.

“Oops,” I spoke innocently, smirking slightly.

He glared at me in aggravation whilst rubbing his head. I just shrugged, turned on my heel and walked away, leaving him alone to plot his revenge on me.

Alex POV



I clutched a hand to my painful head. Urgh, Jack throwing that pen at me really did not help my torturous headache. My head already felt like it was going to explode from the pressure of the urges towards him which I had been fighting all night. I didn’t even trust myself to go into the bedroom, which was why I’d been up all night.

With my elbows resting on the table, I held my head up in my hands, refocusing my eyes back to the paper on the table rather than the bedroom door that Jack had just disappeared through. As I stared at the almost blank paper in front of me, I remembered why I had thrown my pen in the first place: Frustration.

I was frustrated because the way I usually express my emotions is through writing lyrics, but tonight, my feelings just seemed to be trapped inside me, torturing me.

The words that were written on the paper were very simplistic and almost cold-hearted, yet the blotchy stains on the paper where my tears had been falling told a different story. My tears are just complex feelings and words that my heart cannot express.

'You're just a daydream away
I wouldn't know what to say if I had you
And I'll keep you a daydream away
Just watch from a safe place
So I never have to lose'

The song is, of course, about Jack.

Jack is right there in front of me and I can’t have him, he is my Daydream. But it wouldn’t take back the pain I’ve caused us both. And I can’t keep killing myself over this… I need to move on now and forget about what happened. I need some time away so I can get over my feelings for him and hopefully overcome my addiction. I could get a new start.

He is my daydream, because we love each other, yet we can’t be together… My fate lies with my wife and my baby. Choosing Lisa may not have been what I wanted to do, but it is for the best.

After staring at the words on the paper for so long that they were starting to look foreign, I decided the song was a lost cause, like me. I gave up and screwed up the paper in my clenched fist, before tossing it aside carelessly.

The table legs screeched against the tiles on the floor as I pushed my chair away from the table and climbed to my feet, to make my way to the bedroom. I had also made a debatably foolish decision to throw myself into a full-blown battle between resistance and temptation, choosing to try to fight my craving for Jack.

The bedroom door creaked open slowly and I slipped inside, being suddenly consumed by the darkness and the sound of snoring. Lisa was asleep in my bed, but I managed to slip in closely beside her without disturbing her.

As I lay my head on my pillow, I stared straight ahead where I knew Jack was lying in his bed. And even though it was pitch dark, I swear I could feel his piercing eyes locked with mine.

I wanted to reach across to him and find his hand through the darkness. My hand was trembling; I felt like it was being pulled by a force towards Jack, like a magnet. But I knew that if I tried to hold Jack’s hand now he would just recoil away from my touch, like an abused child. I just wanna hold your hand.

I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes shut tightly, desperate to escape into the imaginary place in my head and disappear from reality for a moment. Every second was a struggle, but they crept by consistently, gradually turning into minutes. Finally, I began to drift into a light sleep, dreaming of Jack. Are you thinking of me like I’m thinking of you?

I dreamt that everything had worked out perfectly and we were together at last. I dreamt that we bought a house in Baltimore and moved in together. I dreamt that every morning, we would wake up in the same bed, lying opposite eachother, staring into eachother’s eyes and holding hands lovingly.

But the dreams didn’t last long; every so often the bus would drive over a bump and make me jump, bringing me straight back to reality.

And in real life, Jack was not the one I would pretty soon have to announce as my partner. He was not the one I was going back to Jersey to live with now the tour was over. He was not the one I would wake up beside every morning for the next four weeks until our next tour. He was just the one I was irrevocably addicted to and in love with.

Notes

These past two have been just small fillers, the big BANG is coming up!!!! AND I MEAN A HUGE "THE READERS DO A HARLEM SHAKE OF FEELS" BIG!!! oh god you are all going to scream of feels the next time i update!!! i can just hear the long ass comment coming! YES!!!