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He hates Henry Fox. It's a fact of life. Roses are red, the sky is blue, grass is green, Alex hates Henry Fox.
Henry hates him right back. He even started it. It's fine, it's also a fact of life.
The only hitch with this is the fact that they're in the same band. But June asked him and Bea asked Henry and Pez and Nora both got involved so they couldn't say no.
In a twist that seems to surprise everyone, Henry's the one who ends up drumming, a surprising grace and elegance to the movements that make Alex's eyes linger on his hands a little too long and his hair fall into his eyes. It's incredibly distracting.
Alex himself plays the guitar, glad for the fact that it lets him focus on the audience in front of them and keeps his back to Henry.
They have a truce, carefully negotiated by Nora and Pez that probably involved more kissing between them than he wants to think about, but it works. He leaves Henry alone, Henry leaves him alone, they smile together for the cameras and it's all copacetic. Nobody has to know that Alex glares at Henry every time they cross paths and that if they're in the studio at the same time, Alex will try to throw down with Henry because Henry can't keep his fucking mouth shut about how Alex should play his own goddamn instrument.
It's fine. It's good. The image is that they're all friends and they stick to it.
Under a few thousand layers of denial, Alex knows it's not hatred, that it's probably the damn opposite, but every time he lets himself think of it, he remembers the look in Henry's eyes and the dismissal and has to bury the feeling all over again before his heart breaks.
Then the elevator happens.
Something breaks, one of the gears, Nora says when they message her, and they're stuck between floors.
"Just stay put. We'll get you out as soon as possible," June tells them and hangs up despite it being Nora's phone.
"Fuck. Not how my day needed to go," Alex mutters, covering his face with his hands as he slides down the wall to sit on the floor. He's already had a rough morning, featuring dreams of Henry he doesn't want to let himself think about and some fan tagging him in fanart of him and Henry that just made him ache. "Sit, Fox."
Henry pauses in his pacing and looks at him with raised eyebrows. "And I should listen to you why?"
"Because we're not getting out of here any time soon and I don't think you want to waste your energy on that. Now sit already," Alex snaps, somehow unsurprised when Henry rolls his eyes but sits down on the opposite side of the elevator. It's not very big, so their legs are touching, but Alex ignores it in favor of checking his phone battery, grimacing at the 34%. This is what he gets for forgetting to charge it.
There's several long moments of absolute quiet before Henry breaks it, asking, "why do you hate me?"
"...are you kidding me?" Alex can't help his incredulity at the question because really? Henry's asking him that like he wasn't— "Wait, do you seriously not remember that you fucking started it, Fox?"
Henry's forehead creases in confusion and Alex has to resist the urge to yell.
"I went to introduce myself to you at one of Pez's parties and you turned from me to your sister and asked if she could get rid of me. You looked at me like I had some communicable disease that would kill you for standing too close to me. And every time since, you've either avoided me or been a dick. Who the fuck wouldn't dislike someone who treats them like they're not worthy of your fucking time or attention?"
Goddamn it, he can feel the tears burning at his eyes and tilts his head to try and hide them because he will not cry over Henry fucking Fox. Not again.
"Oh. I didn't realize you'd heard that."
Really? That's what he thinks the problem is here?
"I'm sorry. I wasn't—I don't do well with new people and I went to that party under duress because of Pez. I didn't want to be there and I took it out on you. I'm sorry," he repeats and Alex would like to accept it and move on, he would, but—
"And all the other times you were an asshole?"
"Ah," Henry says with a nod. "I, erm... There's no good way to say this, so please don't hold this against me, but... I liked you, Alex. I still like you. I might even lo—"
"No." Alex's voice is solid steel because he is not taking that bullshit. Henry blinks at him.
"No?"
"No," he repeats and tries to keep a hold on his temper. "You apparently liking me isn't a good enough excuse to be an asshole to me. Not that much. I tried, Fox. I tried multiple times. And every single time you refused to talk to me, dismissed me or walked away. You don't get to claim that was all just because you liked me. News flash, asshole, I liked you too, but I sure as shit wasn't an asshole until you started it."
Henry's eyes widen far enough that his irises actually appear to shrink somewhat. "You like me?"
"Liked. Past tense." That's a lie, but he's not admitting it right now. Not when Henry seems to think liking him is somehow an excuse for being a dick. "Hard to keep liking someone when they've been nothing but a dick to you, specifically."
"Oh," Henry says, voice quiet, and his eyes fall to his hands in his lap. "I have quite the list of amends to make, it seems."
"You fucking think?"
Once Henry actually apologizes for being an asshole so many times, then Alex will apologize for being a dick right back. But he's hurt and upset and the rejections still sting.
"I will fix this, Alex, I promise you."