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Alex clears his throat, and his palm comes to rest on Jay’s shoulder as he approaches him, at the initial contact, Jay flinches and he turns to face Alex, his lips quirking into a small smile at the sight of him.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Alex questions, he rubs Jay’s back and isn’t surprised when there’s a small nod in response.
“Sorry,” Alex says to Seth, who waves his hand dismissively. “I need to borrow Jay for a moment.”
“Just return him,” Seth shot back and Alex cracked a smile at this as he guided Jay over towards a bench.
“So,” Alex begins, taking a seat next to Jay and he clasps his hands together. “I know that you’re helping Seth with the cameras and filming and all but I was hoping you would be able to do something else instead?”
Jay’s brows pinch together as if considering the question. “Do what?” He coaxes.
“I was hoping you’d help me with revising the script,” Alex says, his lips forming a small smile. “You’d be my script supervisor!”
“If you want me to,” Jay answers, he scratches at the back of his neck as Alex is leaning in for a hug.
“Please?” Alex asks.
And of course, Jay can’t say no. “Okay, script supervisor it is.” He squeezes Alex back in response.
It’s a slow change, it always is.
It’s stress, that’s all it is. Alex bristles way easier than he used to but perhaps it’s better than how he always just dissolved into tears.
It doesn’t mean it isn’t out of the ordinary or strange but no one presses on it when it first begins happening. It’s just stress because he’s in college and the film is a big thing for him, it’s basically his baby for how long he’s been working on it.
It’s small things at first, seeing the color rise on his face because he can’t find something he remembers placing in a specific spot because that’s how he handles his things, he’s a creature of habit and it should be there.
Why isn’t it there?
Jay gets the frustration.
He has a vision for his film and he just wants it to succeed and Jay understands having a vision and wanting to stick to that.
It’s fine, it’s fine.
Alex starts calling in sick often but he still comes to film when he is able, it’s not like him to drop things that easily.
Next, it’s snapping, again, chalking it up to stress and he apologizes. And then The cameras have to be kept running and no one understands why, he seems to be looking over his shoulders constantly.
He doesn’t recall saying things and that’s unlike Alex, he has a good memory. Jay would know, he has a great memory too, or at least he’d like to think he does.
Alex calls off filming, he’s done. Brian tries to convince him not to but he’s brushed off. Yet he still gets calls because Alex doesn’t wanna be alone and he wants someone to be there, Jay gets the same calls but he and Brian don’t speak about it.
The topic of Alex’s behavior seems to be taboo.
It’s pretty late when Jay receives a call from Alex, nevertheless, he answers and the other end of the call crackles in, and the connection seems to be weak. “Hey, is everything alright?”
Coming to think of it, that was a stupid question.
There’s a pause, the call buffers, and then, Alex finally speaks, his voice is scratchy, it sounds like he’s been crying. “I think I’m moving,” he croaks and Jay blinks once, twice, thrice, barely registering Alex’s words as he sits up in bed, mattress sinking beneath him.
“What? Are you okay?” Again, stupid question and Jay hears a deep inhale through the receiver a wet sniffle.
“I can’t stay here, Jay,” Alex says, another deep inhale as if it can keep his voice from wobbling and Jay can tell.
“Why, what’s wrong? You can talk to me, you know that.” There’s a pause after Jay speaks, he hears Alex’s breathing on the other end.
“Alex, talk to me,” Jay says, it surprises him with the firmness in his voice but it seems to work.
“I don’t… I don’t know..” Alex says it sounds more like a question than anything.
“Think about it,” Jay says. “First, canceling filming, now, this? Don’t you think you’re being a bit… brash?”
“You don’t get it—“ Alex’s voice crackles in and out. “I think it’s this place, it has to be. I can’t stay here like I thought I would, a fresh start is what I need—“
“Alex—calm down, okay? Talk to me? You have me on the phone, right?” Jay’s knuckles brush against still-tired eyes.
“Right,” Alex’s hesitant voice answers. “Right…” he repeats as if to assure himself.
“Look,” Jay tosses the covers off of himself, pressing the phone to his ear with his shoulder. “I’ll come over and we can talk?”
“Okay,” Alex whispers, throat tight. “Okay.”
“Give me twenty minutes give or take,” there’s some shuffling as Jay grabs his keys from his drawer, grabs his jacket, and pulls on some clothes.
“Thank you,” Alex says, a little quieter. The relief flooding out.
“Not a big deal,” Jay says back, grabbing the phone as he grabs his hat and switching where he was holding it. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you anyway, we’ve all been concerned.”
Alex goes silent for a moment.
Jay pushes the front door open. “—Lex?” He’s opening the car door and pushing the keys into the ignition.
“Yeah, yeah? Sorry, You’re breaking up.” Alex murmurs. “I’ll let you go for now… see you?”
“See you,” Jay agrees.
It doesn’t take long for Jay to arrive, he parks. Opening the door, Jay pockets his keys and the distant sound of barking coming from inside the house hit Jay.
Must be Rocky, he swears he hears some complaints that follow the incessant barking that doesn’t cease by the time Jay knocks on the door.
The door cracks open, and Alex’s face coming to poke out, he sees shifting behind the door as he ushers the yipping dog back. “Hey,” he says through gritted teeth, he grabs Rocky, who struggles against his grasp. “Come in.”
Jay shuts the door behind him, he watches Alex place Rocky on the floor, his nails clicking against the wooden floor as he rushes forward to jump up on him.
Alex cracks a weak smile, scratching the back of his neck, he adjusts his glasses that Rocky had nearly knocked off. “Looks like he’s happy to see you.”
Jay scratches behind Rocky’s ear, his tongue lolling out with a content look on his face. After a few moments, he trots off, turning his attention to the food bowl.
Alex’s shaky exhale breaks the silence and reminds Jay why he was even here in the first place, and how he approached the topic with how apprehensive Alex had been lately.
“Why don’t we go sit down?” Jay scans the tired expression on Alex’s face.
“Sounds good,” Alex agrees, his nod is subdued and he watches the corners of his knuckles rubbing at his eyes.
They sit down, Jay watches as Alex’s head knocks against the back of the couch, he stares upwards, gazes unfocused, hair fanned out on his shoulders and on the fabric of the couch.
“So,” Jay says, he’s careful in what he says and Alex’s head lifts, eyes locking to acknowledge him and not his usual hum in response when he’s not fully engaging yet.
“Talk to me,” Jay says, there’s an evident space between them and there’s a chill in the room. Alex makes no attempt to scoot closer, so, Jay concludes he’ll make the move and close in the space between them.
At the motion, Alex makes an effort to close in the space even more, his head knocks against Jay’s shoulder, his hair falling forward like a curtain for his eyes.
“What is it?” Jay presses, they’re pressed together so it doesn’t take long for him to notice how Alex stiffens up before he speaks, the exhale that follows.
“That’s the problem,” Alex says, his tone is stiff and scratchy.
Jay’s brows raise as if to coax more of an explanation from Alex. He nods, his arm extends over Alex’s shoulders, and his palm spreads across his stiff back, he’s tense and he seems to relax beneath his touch after a few minutes.
“I don’t know,” Alex continued, his throat constricting. “I don’t know what it is . . .” His voice begins to crack.
And there goes the water-works again, Alex’s hands come up, brushing underneath his glasses, knuckles bumping against them, skin fogging his glasses. “I wish I knew what it was because maybe then I could do something but . . . I don’t know.” That is what he settles on.
“Alex,” Jay murmurs, his fingers tracing shapes into Alex’s back as he tenses again. “You don’t have to explain yourself, I understand.”
Alex sniffles, it’s weak and his throat is tight again. “Of course, you’d understand my bullshit.” He lets out a dry laugh, as he leans into Jay’s arm.
“One of us has to,” Jay answers, he offers a small smile and Alex manages one back much to Jay’s relief. “You don’t seem to read yourself well.”
Alex shoves Jay in the arm, he adjusts his glasses after rubbing at his watering eyes. He wipes them off on his shirt to clear the condensation that had formed on them. “Shut up.”
Alex buries his face into the crook of Jay’s neck and his fingers come to run through his hair, he separates strands, tucking them behind his ear.
“What was that about moving?” Jay’s voice breaks the silence.
Alex sits upright, straighter. “I don’t know, Jay, I just… I need out of here.”
Jay sits up to, something clinks against the hardwood and both men lock eyes for a moment. Alex leans forward, picking something up, eyeing it before his gaze follows Jay, who’s looking at him.
“What is it?” Jay questions.
“Yours,” concludes Alex.
“Mine? What is it?” Jay follows up with, brows raising again.
Alex extends his hand, a Bobby-pin is resting in the palm of his hand. “Bobby pin,” he says, his lips quirking up into a weak smile.
“Oh,” Jay takes it from Alex’s hand. “Thank you.” He’s caught off guard when Alex’s hand shoots upwards, taking his hat off and placing it in Jay’s lap.
“What are you—“ he cuts himself off as gentle fingers dig into Jay’s hair, pulling several bobby pins out of dark locks of hair, it pops forward and his fingers run through some of the now-loose hair.
“Sssh,” Alex hushes, his eyes shining with a little bit of that familiar determination and focus.
Bobby's pins clink against each other as they’re placed in Alex’s lap. One, two, three, four, five, six.
Exactly 35.
Alex’s fingers tousle with Jay’s completely loose hair.
“Feel better now?” Jay asks.
Alex hums in response.
Great, he’s a stress toy now. Jay’s eyes scan around the room, noticing a stack of tapes poking out from the cabinet compartment beneath the television, he doesn’t ask yet.
Jay leans in towards Alex, their faces are inches apart. It’s like when they were teenagers again, sitting together on Alex’s bed and doing whatever, they’d curl up together and they end up closing in the distance between them.
Practice kissing, bullshit.
Alex’s hands reach up to cup Jay’s face to encourage him to continue. Their lips press together and Alex’s aren’t as soft as they used to be, not too rough either, as he tastes Chapstick that’s trying to remedy the cracking that the recent weather and Alex chewing on them have caused.
Jay’s arms wrap around Alex’s shoulders, his hands fumbling with strands of his hair. They part after a few moments and there’s silence.
Jay’s eyes notice the cabinet again.
Jay clears his throat. “What are those?”
Alex’s fingers pull from his hair, and he frowns. “What?”
Jay nods the cabinet and he swears he can see the color drain from Alex’s face.
He blinks once, twice, thrice. Alex adjusts his glasses.
“From filming,” Alex answers, his voice unsure.
“What are you gonna do with them? I’d hate to see something you’d been working on for so long go to waste, you know? I remember when you first started working on it.” A weak smile Crosses Jay’s face and irritation seems to flash across Alex’s face.
“I don’t care anymore,” Alex’s voice is firmer than last time.
“Then what are you—“ Jay’s cut off by an off-putting answer.
“Burn them,” Alex answered. “I’m burning them.”
“What? You shouldn’t do that,” Jay says, fishing for some sort of convincing answer. “Why don’t I take them in case you change your mind? It’d be such a waste for something you loved so much to just be burned, don’t you think?”
“Fine,” Alex hisses, throat tight. “But I don’t wanna hear about them ever again or see them, understood?”
“Okay,” Jay agrees.
“Take them then,” insists Alex, he stands up and digs for some sort of bag and pushes it to Jay so he can gather the unlabeled tapes.
It comes as a surprise when Alex packs up without any words, he’d spoken about transferring to the school Amy had been at but Jay hadn’t thought he’d been seriously considering it.
What’s even stranger is that he didn’t say he was or when.
Or when Jay calls Alex’s number to ask about it and is on the receiving end, this line has been disconnected.
Sure, Alex had been distant lately and wouldn’t speak often, he missed more calls than he usually would and he’d answer once and they dropped off the face of the earth again.
Amy had found the camera, it wasn’t going away, was it? It’s almost reminiscent of those horror-pandemic movies or the zombie apocalypse ones. If you’re infected you are a danger to those around you and it is terminal and contagious.
You have to end it before you harm others or you have to do it for someone else if they don’t willingly do it. That’s different to this, Alex thinks. Because at least if you don’t get bitten you will be fine—or that seemed to be the case most of the time.
(And isolation never did the trick, it didn’t go away and it only seemed to get worse the more alone he was. Like a rot spreading within his bones and lungs.)
He doesn’t know whether or not it’s worse that it’s been confirmed and he’s not crazy or if he wishes he was crazy because Amy’s shriek was as real as anything he’d ever heard, what was that? She’d demanded. Amy didn’t spook easily and despite that—despite the situation she was still behaving like herself.
Until she wouldn’t, until it took that away.
(Originally, Alex had toyed with the idea if he just ended it on himself simply, that would end it. Because somehow he’d brought whatever this and if he couldn’t think anymore he couldn’t hurt him anymore. But he’d brought whatever that thing was and infected Amy. He’d infected Amy. Infected. Infected. Infected. Infected. And if he’d infected Amy, so was Jess. And if he infected Amy, he’d done it to Seth and Sarah as well. Maybe Brian and Tim as well. Jay? But he’d left so soon after, maybe it would be fine.)
He Wouldn’t let it have them.
Amy, Jess, then himself. Amy, Jess, Seth, then himself. Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, then himself. Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, Brian, then himself. Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, Brian, Tim, then himself.
Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, Brian, Tim, Jay, then himself.
Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, Brian, Tim, and Jay.
Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, Brian, Tim, and Jay.
Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, Brian, Tim, and Jay.
Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, Brian, Tim, and Jay.
Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, Brian, Tim, and Jay.
Amy, Jess, Seth, Sarah, Brian, Tim, and Jay. Then himself.
The list kept growing exponentially.
And It wasn’t fine. Turning that mechanism on himself would Only temporarily solve his issues and he’d be taking the easy way out, wouldn’t he? In any other case, maybe he would be okay with that. Maybe we could come to terms with that. Maybe if it wasn’t his fault and these weren’t people he loved he’d be okay with it.
Whether or not it made sense or hurt him. He was saving them from a world of hurt and they died loved because he cared enough to do this.
Alex spends time with each of them, mending things before he puts things into motion, and as it goes, it never goes as planned. He could never be so lucky as to have that.
Have God grant his wretched soul that much.
“Alex?” Alex’s mouth runs dry, it’s Jay’s voice.
“How’d you get this number?” Alex chokes out.
“That’s not important, what’s important is that we talk,” Jay says.
“No, it’s not,” Alex croaks, not liking the way it sounds. “Don’t call again.” He hangs up, the line going dead.