Chapter Text
John's POV (this is a end of high school AU by the by)
The music was loud, My ears still throbbing even though its sweet melodies were now mostly blocked by the bathroom walls surrounding.
My gaze remained locked to the mirror, fingers nervously twitching at the bottle I had in hand as a thumb brushed over the once ice cold glass beneath it. A Corona, as disgusting as the moment I had picked it up from the cooler hours before. I took in a breath, eyes diverting to the now luke warm liquor in my grip as my body fell against the wall and slowly pushed down.
This wasn't how this was supposed to go.
I wasn't supposed to have retreated to the bathroom like I always did. I promised I wouldn't this time. I had assured my friends I felt better, different.
Was it a lie? I didn't think it was at the time.
But as the night unwinded, I found my chest getting tighter, and every breath I took seemed to bring me closer and closer to a collapsed lung.
People were grinding on each other, girls making out with guys they had just met as they downed glorified rubbing alcohol for the hell of it. The floor was packed to the brim with people, though no one seemed to care. The only thing that mattered was the drinks and music.
And Jesus Christ I hated parties.
Not that I was a prude. Frankly, I didn’t give a shit who did or did not fuck on the first date, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be in the middle of it either.
Almost everyone was too drunk to form sentences at this point anyways. They wouldn't miss me. They wouldn't notice I was gone. They never did.
Why can't you be like your brother?
The voice in my mind screamed. I let my head drop back against the tile of the wall, feeling the way the wall vibrated just slightly and my throat ran dry.
"Fuck off..." A muttered threat, like anyone was there to hear it or care. Talking like my brain would somehow take it to heart despite the spike in it’s beats per minute.
This was stupid, so fucking stupid. Being propped up in a bathroom, eyes shut tightly and foot tapping away as if that would help block out the words I could hear echoing in my head.
But the anxiety was loud. Too fucking loud.
You'll never have real friends. You'll always be alone.
It whispered softly to me, like a truth I couldn’t grasp. My body felt hot and my stomach turned in a way that I hated more than most. To my surprise, a set of tears began streaming down my cheeks. I hadn't realized I even wanted to cry, nor when they had started, but this was getting ridiculous.
I took in slow, heavy breaths in attempts to stop the inevitable breakdown I was approaching.
But I felt my breath cease as a small knock on the door filled my ears.
"John?" A small voice caught my attention.
I could feel my body unknowingly retreat closer to the wall behind me, sleeves darting quickly to wipe any evidence of tears from my face.
My eyes were red, and I knew it. Maybe I looked high. Or maybe the lighting in the space was dim enough it would be too hard to tell anyway.
To my confusion, it was Jaren who entered my line of sight.
We saw each other at parties a lot, but we never talked for very long. Particularly because he was more social than I was willing to be. I sort of slipped in the corner and generally stayed to myself. He was always doing the kind of crazy shit that got people on the news the next day. There’d even been rumors he’d been arrested at some point, but anyone with a brain knew that wasn’t the case.
Though, parties were really the only time we even ever interacted. We generally didn't cross paths at school, and I didn't particularly want to.
I honestly couldn't even remember how we had become friends...if you could call us that. I guess we were more like acquaintances.
He was alright to be around most of the time, even if he was kind of a douchebag. That came with the money I assumed.
But it felt like we lived on different planes of the universe sometimes. Our perceptions of reality seemed so off from one another. Sometimes I wondered if he was a robot sent to keep us distracted while the government took over and fucked everything up.
Either way, we just didn't seem all too compatible. Not that I really cared.
"Hey, dude."
I managed out after a few moments of self-induced discomfort, giving a pathetic wave in his general direction.
He simply threw a small smile, shutting the door behind him. We sat in silence for a moment, him leaning against the far wall while I remained bundled in the jacket I was wearing on the floor.
It was awkward, to say the least. I wasn't even sure why he was here. It was weird enough I was sitting in the bathroom, but having someone else with me made it feel even worse. Especially him.
My hand suddenly rummaged in my pocket, pulling out my vape in hopes of filling some space. He shot me a funny look, so I pushed it at him as to offer. His head shook in response.
"I don't fuck with nicotine anymore."
He lifted a shoulder and put it down again. I shrugged back, taking a hit.
"You know that's really bad for you right?"
He chimed in again. I rolled my eyes.
"Didn't know I came to get a lecture."
I retaliated with a tone far less than friendly.
I wasn't in the mood to get tested. I already didn't want to be here, I didn't need daddy's money telling me what to do.
He kind of laughed a little, eyes making pathways around my face. I suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. But mostly annoyed.
"Just looking out for your health."
I snorted. How pretentious could this guy get?
"Since when do you give a shit about other people's health?”
I mused bitterly, taking another puff before shifting to mess with one of the rings on my finger. “It's just nicotine."
He crossed his arms across his chest. "But it can get you into other shit."
I tilted my head a little.
"And?"
"And you'll die."
“Not necessarily.”
“But you could.”
I took in a puff, holding it before blowing the cloud out in his direction and letting my hand fall limp across my knee again.
"What if I want to die?"
He blinked for a second before he rolled his eyes, head shaking once more.
"Touchè."
There was a bit more silence, the bathroom now smelling vaguely of vanilla. My eyes drifted over his outfit as he seemed to avoid my gaze.
He may have been a jerk, but I had to admit he had an okay fashion sense. Could use some work, but better than any of these other jock straps at the party with their douchey Ralph Laurence polos and khaki cut off shorts. God, if I saw one more Vineyard vine shirt tucked into low rise bermudas I was really going to end it all.
"If you don't mind my asking-"
The other finally broke through the pause, making his way deeper into the bathroom and plopping next me on the floor. He sat a decent distance from me, back leaning against the nearby tub and knees pulled to his chest. I was grateful for any kind of buffer even if I still debated shifting towards the door.
"- why are you on the floor of the bathroom?"
I could feel my face flush just a little, eyes shifting toward the tiles that lined the ground under my feet. The grout was dirty, probably more so then I hoped it to be considering I was ass-down on it, but that wasn’t my top concern of the moment anyways.
Worse off in my attempt to scrounge up a coherent thought, it suddenly occurred to me Jaren wasn't drunk. Which, by all accounts, was fucking strange. He usually reeked like alcohol by this point in the night.
That made this whole situation somehow so much weirder.
"I... uh..."
My hand subconsciously reached up to scratch the back of my neck awkwardly, shifting the bottle I was, for god only knows what reason, still holding from one hand to the other.
"I don't like parties much." I said simply.
The other boy nodded slowly, attention shifting to the frayed pieces of his jeans.
"How come?"
He prodded slightly, fingers still twiddling with the rouge strings.
Why was this kid so damn curious about my life? Why wasn't he just out there having fun like everybody else? I felt my body tense.
"I have really bad social anxiety."
I admitted, hoping that would shut him up well enough. To my dismay, he simply let out a small laugh, eyebrow cocking in amusement.
"What the fuck are you doing here if you have social anxiety?"
I visibly rolled my eyes this time, my chest feeling a little tighter as we made eye contact again.
I was right. What a dick.
"Look, why the fuck do you care? Why aren't you out there doing the stupid shit you always do at these parties? You're the one who fucking pushed your way in here with me." I snapped.
To my surprise, Jaren's face seemed to soften at the change of tone. Usually, people left me alone after I would get like this. They wrote me off as the weird kid with anger issues, and I wasn’t naive enough to say it was always on accident. I expected him of all people to get defensive.
But the brunette didn't seem even remotely bothered.
"I was just curious where you were, so I looked around for you." He smiled at me again.
I was so incredibly confused at this point. We weren't close, so I couldn't imagine why he would be looking for me ever, let alone at a party. We hadn't even really ever had a proper conversation except for the time he’d asked if I could take his history test for him, or a handful of generic bullshit chats about the weather if we somehow ended up next to each other in line at lunch.
I couldn't help but feel a bit unsettled.
"Bullshit."
I said abruptly.
He stared back at me blankly as I cocked my eyebrow in a similar way he had earlier.
"You don't even know me. We've literally never hung out before, and have nothing in common. Why’d you come and find me?" My voice was matter-of-fact.
The air went stale, as my words settled on both of our minds.
Maybe I had been a bit harsh. But there was no way he was looking for me just to look for me. I didn't matter, especially in this context.
"Did you want to know how to get drugs for your buddies or something? Did someone tell you I know a guy or some shit?"
I threw the questions out, trying to get to the bottom of his thoughts.
He seemed to contemplate for a moment before he glanced my way.
"Would you believe me if I agreed?"
"Not really."
He finally let out a harsh breath, legs shifting as he sighed.
"You want to know? Honestly?"
His gaze traveled up my body before stopping abruptly on my eyes. I said nothing but nodded.
"I hate parties."
He admitted, cheeks dusting a rosy pink that was obvious even in the shit lighting.
My eyebrows shot up in shock and confusion.
"You... YOU hate-"
His laugh cut in once more and I felt my lips seal shut.
"I know, sounds fucking stupid right? I host this shit all the time but I hate it."
He stood up a little and shifted so he was now next to me on the wall.
The space was cramped, and normally I would have been a bit claustrophobic. By now, though, things honestly couldn't get weirder. I could wake up without a dick the next morning and it would somehow make sense. So I didn't give much of a fuck.
"I don't even like drinking." He added.
It fell silent, and I could tell that there was more he was hesitant to elaborate on. I didn't want to admit it, but I was more curious than confused at this point.
"Why do you do all this shit if you hate it?" I pressed, though my tone was softer this time.
I cringed inwardly. Maybe I was too curious if this is how I was talking.
He glanced at me, arms crossing over his chest as his breath slowed slightly which seemed to signal thought more than anything else. I subconsciously swished the liquid in my beer like it’d help fill the silence.
"Erm..."
His hands cupped his face, rubbing aggressively now. They lingered for a moment, but eventually fell back to his lap. I watched intently.
"It's kind of stupid story..."
His voice trailed off. I shifted so my body facing him, finally setting the drink in my hand down to the left of myself.
"I mean, we're not doing anything else." I shrugged a little. I could see a bit of humor dance in his eyes, though it was mixed with hazy regret. I didn't know why he was opening up to me on the bathroom floor at 1am on a Saturday. I wasn't even sure why I suddenly felt the urge to be nice to him. But crazier fucking things had happened, so this was just where we were.
"Well, uh... I've always had a lot of trouble growing up- with mental health that is."
His body grew sheepish. I felt my fingers automatically tense into a loose fist.
Mental health made me jittery.
"I've always been a pretty sad kid. And you know, freshman year it was really bad, worse than it had ever been. So I uh... kind of tried to... leave? Off my self? I don't know really how to say that without sounding dramatic."
He gestured to the air, as if to fill in what words he had neglected to say.
Goosebumps covered my arms. I didn't like the guy much, but the thought alone was enough to send static down my spine.
Of all the people in the world I would have guessed had tried to kill themselves, Jaren was not one of them. He seemed to have it all, really. A life a lot of people dreamed of having. Money, girls, popularity. He even had naturally straight teeth which I’d secretly envied since I’d overheard it in math freshman year.
Yet, here we were talking about death at a party he was hosting.
And he was so casual about it, too.
I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I wished at that moment more than anything that I hadn't said what I had said earlier, even If I’d kind of meant it myself.
"My mom got really worried after that so I just kind of... took on this persona to make her feel better. Happy-go-lucky party guy who tells jokes and knows everyone. I guess it kind of helps anyways. Keeps me distracted."
It felt like there should have been a sort of uncomfortable laugh to follow, but nothing did. Just absentminded eyes scanning the bathroom walls.
"It's funny because I have all these 'friends' but I'm not sure most of them could tell you anything about me that matters. Hell, I'm not even sure most of them could tell you my last name."
A sadness suddenly weaved through his tone, though a smile sat gingerly on his lips. What a remarkably melancholy smile it was, too.
"I knew you usually ended up somewhere quiet, so I thought if I found you I could get away from the shit out there, even if it was just for a little bit."
He added, realizing he hadn't answered my question from earlier.
At this point, his eyes seemed to gloss over the longer his gaze rested on me.
I honestly couldn't process that he even noticed that I always retreated somewhere secluded. And admittedly, I was kind of embarrassed.
Suddenly his face grew distressed as if he had just realized what he had said to me in the pause.
"Sorry... I shouldn't have dumped that on you. Ah shit, I'm the worst."
He began to stand up to leave as he spoke, but I quickly grabbed his arm in protest.
It was a weird impulse. I felt like I needed to, for god knows what reason. Even so, I let go almost as quickly as my fingers had closed around the sleeve, shifting my eyes to the side.
I thought this kid was a douche ten minutes ago and now I didn't want him to leave my side.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about, dude." I assured him.
He looked unsure but sat back down nonetheless. It was silent for a while after that.
I could feel the music still pumping through the walls, the screams and hollering varying every couple minutes in volume. I felt a little buzzed still, though I had no desire to drink anymore. I just wanted to go home at this point.
"So why are you here, John?"
The now more familiar voice bounced back into my ears, the person attached with an eyebrow raised. I shrugged honestly.
"I get dragged here by Tyler and Anthony every time. They always want me to go and immediately abandon me to get shit faced."
His lips twitched up a little as his head nodded in understanding.
"Tyler's a mess." The smile shifted to a little smirk at the statement.
I took the first good look at his face I think I ever had. I had to admit, he wasn't bad looking. I could see why girls flocked to him like they did.
"Fun fact-" He looked at the door as if to assure he wasn't around before leaning in to whisper to me. "He can't get it up without hyping himself up in the mirror for ten minutes first."
The laugh that fell from my lips was almost visceral. I felt a little guilty, but there was just something so funny about that image in my mind as much as It also made me want to hurl.
Tyler was one of my oldest friends. We had known each other since kindergarten and had grown up as close as we probably could be.
He’d seen it all; My parent's divorce, my first heartbreak and all the stupid crap I went through in middle school. Most of all he put up with my shitty dark personality and I did appreciate him for that.
We were still pretty good friends but had kind of diverged when high school started. He went more of a popular jock route, and I strolled down more of a solo path. He knew just about everyone. I didn't have many friends at school. He liked messing with freshman during lunch, I liked listening to avoid them under the bleachers. I hated admitting it. The description was cringy enough, like jug head from riverdale on an some 'im just weird' bullshit rant, but it was just the truth at the end of the day.
We lived two pretty different lives. And yeah, admittedly, he kind of left me in the dust a lot of the time. But I'm not looking for pity. I honestly didn't give a shit who he hung out with, I just wished he would stop dragging me along to places I didn't want to go.
"You two have known each other forever, right?" His voice suddenly cut into my thoughts.
I nodded a little.
"Yeah. Since we were like five." I shrugged.
"He talks about you a lot." The brunette mused a bit, and I felt my face burst into flames.
"Oh god."
I groaned. He laughed.
Tyler had a lot of shit on me. From the most embarrassing moments of my entire career as a human being to the nights I wasn't sure I could ever recover from. He had seen it all.
And frankly, I couldn't figure out which would be worse for him to tell a stranger.
"Only good things, I swear." I felt him punch my arm lightly, teeth running over his bottom lip.
My skin grew warm from the contact even despite the immediate pull back.
"Seriously though, he really loves you, dude. It's really sweet listening to him talk about how great of a friend you've been to him."
I couldn't help but let out an amused breath.
I never thought of myself as a particularly good person. I wasn't awful, but I wasn't great either. I guess just painfully mediocre. Some sort of ambivalent, apathetic asshole. I felt a bit like a waste of space if I were to be honest. But I guess it was nice to hear that he felt that way.
"Glad I've been able to trick him for this long. My master plan is in action." I joked a little.
He burst into a small fit of chuckles, and though I didn't want to admit it, it felt good to have someone laugh at a joke I made.
I had a really dry sense of humor. I had since I was about two years old and even Tyler had trouble understanding it. He tried his best to tell me he thought it was really funny. But he was a shit liar.
It went silent again, but this time it was a bit more comfortable.
"You got a girlfriend, John?" He asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
I snorted, shaking my head.
"Nah."
One side of my mouth tugged into a sort of awkward smile.
"Oh c'mon, you've gotta have ladies knocking your doors down." He teased.
I rolled my eyes, but for the first time, it wasn't because I was annoyed.
"I'm not particularly- erm.... fond of the ladies."
I wanted to die at my stupid wording, but he seemed unphased.
"Gotcha. Any boyfriend then?" He continued proding.
This guy was blunt. I couldn't figure out how I felt about it. Or him still.
"Negative."
I took a hit of vape, the cloud settling over us.
"Why not?" He inquired.
I leaned my head back against the wall, letting out an amused breath.
"Well you know, dating kind of takes someone liking you-"
He rolled his eyes at my sarcasm and I couldn't help but feel a little accomplished.
"- and I'm not exactly a very likable person."
He looked surprised by this, maybe even a little confused.
"That's ridiculous. Someone has to be madly in love with you or something." He stated.
I couldn't help but chuckle at the assumption, but I simply shrugged.
"It sounds kind of like you're the one who's in love with me with all these questions." I joked.
He laughed again, throwing a nearby stray hairspray cap at me and subsequently rolled his eyes. I dodged it, also chuckling.
I knew he knew I was joking. But I could see his mind racing in the silence that settled immediately after.
I wondered what was going on in his head. My thoughts felt a bit strange in the moment. Maybe I had misjudged him.
I watched as he opened his mouth, only to close it again. It happened a few times before finally, he sighed, licking his lips lightly.
"I-"
He began but was immediately interrupted by loud shrieking laughter and uneven, heavy footsteps approaching the door.
It unceremoniously swung open, crashing against the wall hard enough that made me pray there was a door stopper and revealing two people faces, flushed with alcohol and eyes distant as they struggled to take in the scene.
"Jarennnn we've been looking for you buddy!!"
The man slurred out, barely supporting himself on the doorway. The girl leaned heavily on him, giggling at absolutely nothing.
My eyebrows lifted slightly as his gaze made its way to me.
"Why are you in here with... him?" He tried to whisper like I wouldn't hear.
I scoffed a little bit. Drunk people were so strange. They didn't even remember my first name they were so hammered despite making my life hell as often as they could when sober.
"Just talking." He responded short. I could hear a hint of annoyance soaked in his words.
Kevin, who I immediately recognized from my honors English class, rolled his eyes.
"Mkay."
He made eye contact with the girl for a moment and both giggled.
I remembered again why I hated this shit.
"Come take shots!" He demanded, nearly taking the both of them down with a grand, drunk gesture.
Jaren sighed a little, glancing at me as if asking for help, before slowly looking back at him.
"I'll be out in a sec, I swear. Go pour 'em." He assured smoothly.
The drunk muttered something like an incoherent 'hell yeah' before disappearing back out the doorway, the girl stumbling lost behind him with a whine.
Jaren smiled at me, sadly this time.
"Guess that's my queue." He muttered, though made no effort to move. I shifted in my seat.
"You don't have to go." I suggested.
He shook his head a little.
"I wish you were right."
He began to leave, getting about halfway to the door before turning back towards me. I couldn't quite read his face, though it was softer than before.
"I like you, John." He stated.
I smiled a little. But I didn't even have a chance to acknowledge it before he disappeared behind the door and I found myself alone again.
I sat there for a long time after, thinking.
I wondered how much I had just experienced was real. Who is this guy really was.
Was he messing with me? Was I some sort of project? Some kind of social experiment? Or was I just being bitter again?
A sigh escaped my throat as I raised the vape to my lips again.
I had a hunch that this wouldn't be the last time I saw him. And I didn exactly hate that idea either.