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It feels like October, Jesper realizes. He isn’t quite sure how to feel about it, much too focused on the fact that it shouldn’t feel like October. The month is coming up, but he knows that he isn't just talking about the season its in, his brain singling out one specific October for reference. Jesper's hands shake — just a little — as he pulls his food out of the microwave, trying to keep some sense of order in his brain as he takes his fork and tries it. He puts it back in the microwave, hitting the button that says ‘+30 SECONDS’ instead of pushing the individual numbers.
He shouldn’t be thinking its October. It’s the beginning of August, first of all, and for once he actually feels like his life is in order. He has plans of a job, has plans for school. He has good friends and a great partner. Overall, it should not feel like October. But it does. Jesper feels that same chill in his bones he did last year, the type you get after pulling an all-nighter. But it’s not even that cold in the house and he’s not even that tired. He’s sleeping more than he did during summer, that's for sure. He shouldn’t be feeling cold and he shouldn’t be feeling tired. But he does anyway.
He goes and sits in his dad’s recliner as he eats his food, letting to too-warm bowl sit in his hands and try to bring some life back to him. Jesper isn’t sure what to do. He could call someone, talk to them and try and power through. But he doubts that would make his feelings go away. Even when he’s with friends, these feelings come back. Like Jesper just threw some white sheets over his emotions like furniture and promised to be back when he was done pretending to have a life.
The door startles Jesper, and Colm comes inside with a swear under his breath and rain dripping from his hair. Jesper greets his dad, and when Colm asks him how his day has been, Jesper doesn’t say it feels like October. Just says he’s tired – but they might as well be the same thing.
When Jesper goes and lays in his bed, there's nothing loudly telling him things have changed in almost a year, even though he knows things have. He still has the same posters on the wall, still has the same books on his shelf. Not even the amount of them he’s read has changed. But he knows if he doesn’t look for any differences, he’s going to go crazy. So, Jesper tries to think about the clothes he’s gotten rid of, tries to remember the type of jewelry he wore last year. Only problem is, when Jesper finally dispatched and his items were returned to him, he put those earrings back in and hadn’t taken them out since. He still wears the sweater Wylan brought him because he said he was cold over the phone. The person he is now and the person he was in October are nearly identical. Jesper still can’t form an opinion on it.
The top of Jesper’s arms and thighs feel tense, like the skin there is too tight. Like a piece of hide tied into place and drawn taught to tan it. He scratches at the skin on his forearms, trying to release some of the pressure there that he knows doesn’t exist. Jesper was a thrill chaser, he knew that. Had been scolded for it his whole life. Like there was some restless animal under his skin, scraping at the walls in a desperate attempt to get out, to get some attention. He drank and smoked and caused trouble just to try and sedate it a little. Made himself the center of attention by telling stories that nobody wanted to hear just so that he had some eyes on him. Jesper knew that it was a problem, but for a long time he didn’t care. It only mattered when he was alone, when there was no one there or nothing to take to make him feel alive. He had turned to a different sort of thrill, one that could only be done by himself and behind closed doors.
Despite his need to be the center of other peoples eyes, he knew that he wasn’t hurting himself for attention. But when he was alone, it was hard to feel present. Hard to feel alive, hard to get his heart pumping and feel it. He remembered stealing pencil sharpeners from the art classrooms, taking them apart with a practiced ease and sneaking off to the bathroom during class just to bring him back to the present. He stopped a couple months before he had been admitted, but if he looked, he could still see the scars on his arms and thighs. Some were lighter, some were darker, but they had faded to a point where it was hard to see if you weren’t looking for them. It almost felt like a secret Jesper kept with himself, a reminder of what he put himself through in a language only he could read.
Jesper didn’t want to hurt himself again, but he knew a couple of years ago that is exactly what he would’ve done. Maybe that was finally a sign he had finally changed for the better, a positive in a long long line of negatives. Jesper had changed. He was different. He was. But he still felt that pull to his nightstand, to rummage through it and find something that would make him feel that rush that he craved.
He pressed his hands to his face, pushed his fingers against his closed eyelids. Jesper didn’t want this. He didn’t want to feel like this again. He liked his life. Liked his friends and all the people that he hung out with. Jesper didn’t want to strip himself from them. He tried to think about how they would react. Jesper’s brain pulled him to a scene, of Inej picking up the phone. He tried to imagine the way her face would drop, of how a smile would be taken away from her lips, about the disbelief she would feel about who ever was talking on the other end of the phone. How would they even find out? If Jesper died, who would call them? Would it be Colm? Jesper couldn’t imagine his father lifting the phone up, dialing all of his friends to tell them about his son's untimely passing. But it wouldn’t be untimely. If Jesper was going to die, it would have been something he had done to himself. A time, a date that he had selected to kill himself on. That wouldn’t be untimely. It would be planned. A rare moment of methodical planning that Jesper never seemed to carry with him in his everyday life.
His hands shifted until he was pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. He imagined Wylan in a suit that he told Jesper that he never wanted to wear, that it reminded Wylan of the dark colors his father always wore. Jesper could picture those red curls all too easily, curling over black fabric as Wylan sat in a pew. He’d seen Wylan cry before, how his eyes turned red rimmed and how he almost looked like he had a cold. Seen the way he stared off like he was trying to distance himself so he wouldn’t cry anymore. Jesper didn’t want to imagine who would sit beside his boyfriend, who would take his hand and murmur their apologies to him. Jesper didn’t want to make Wylan be the guy with a dead boyfriend.
Sitting up in the bed didn’t help. Jesper’s head felt water logged, like switching positions made all the thoughts in his head slosh around violently and beat against the inside of Jesper’s skull. He needed to do something. Jesper knew better to sit in his thoughts, knew that nothing was going to be done sitting here and mopping.
He picked up his phone, eyes scanning over the notifications, but not really reading any of them. All stupid shit, nothing that mattered.
spare a shot for the poor?
11:49pm
Jes: any plans for the weekend?
Despite Jesper's thoughts of not wanting to be alive, he didn’t particularly want to do anything too exciting at the moment, but he knew that this was something to fall back on. If he couldn’t say any of his feelings, then he could go to other outlets. Jesper knew that booze wasn't a particularly good way to cope, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He knew that it would make him feel something.
Neens: I think Matthias is busy Saturday, but I’m free 😛 any ideas of what we could do?
Jesper could back out. Keep it sober. Just hang out with his friends instead of using them as something to feel his emotions rather than express them.
Jes: i dont have anything but idk what you guys have at yalls place
Neens: we didn’t finish the jack, but I could probably get some more
Jes: pretty please? because you love me? and i’m literally the best friend ever?
There was that little voice in his head that told him to stop. That these people actually liked him, and that they would have just as much fun driving around and being in the same car instead of drinking. But then there was a chance that he would spill his guts out and they would know. That they would know that he was doing bad again. Jesper didn’t want to make them worry.
spider in the corner of the room: I am also free! i’ll try to help clean up this time lol
Jes: yes i will also do that
Jes: pretty please Nina
Neens: fine LMAO
And that was that. Jesper had successfully avoided his problems. He shut his phone off and plugged it up, telling himself that he would just go to bed and sleep it off. He didn’t feel any better. Jesper knew that that wouldn't have been to make him feel better. He still did it though. He knew that this feeling dragged, and dragged, and would continue to drag on anyway, no matter what he did. Bleeding into the following days and creeping on him whenever something felt slightly off. But he didn’t have time to think about that. He just wanted to go to sleep. Nothing more.
So, Jesper waited. It wasn’t that long until he was at Nina’s house, a drink in his hand and laughter bubbling up his throat. He didn’t have to think here. There wasn’t any pressure on him when he was like this. He had always heard stories about how drinking brought out the worst in people, that if they were having problems that the alcohol would bring it out. But Jesper never had a problem like that. When he drank he was good at avoiding his problems. He could leave everything at home and just have fun. Everything was fine. Jesper was fine. He had something sweet and alcoholic going down his throat, and Wylan sitting by his side, so what could be wrong? Even Matthias had managed to squeeze some time in to stop by, and that should have made everything even better.
They laughed, got drunk, played games, got more drunk. It was good. It was fine. So it didn’t make any sense why the skin around Jesper’s arms felt tight. This was supposed to make him feel better, lighten his spirits. But all Jesper could think about was going home and never coming out again. Even with Wylan’s head on Jesper’s shoulder, all Jesper could think about was how easy it would be to disappear. He had methods, but he was too scared to do any of them. But if he just worked up a little more courage, then he could maybe get something done.
Wylan pressed his face against Jesper’s neck, and Jesper could feel his nose pressing on the underside of Jesper’s jaw. “How are you feeling?” the other boy whispered, just loud enough that Jesper could hear him over Inej and Nina yelling at each other over a card game.
“I’m doing great,” Jesper replied, putting on a smile just to show how great he was doing. Even gave Wylan’s shoulder a small squeeze to really sell the point. Whenever someone asked Jesper how he was doing, it felt like he had to become a salesman for a shitty product. Yeah, this bad boy is the best in the whole house, knowing that said 'bad boy' will probably break if you put it on the counter a little too roughly. Jesper’s head was going back to last October. How similar it all felt. He didn’t think that that was his lowest point, but it was the most vocal Jesper had been about his feelings. His therapist deemed him a threat to himself and he spent a week at a hospital a couple hours away. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t a place that he wanted to go back to. There were so many people there at their collective lows that he had forgotten about his problems for the majority of the week that he was there, and he was fine when he got out. He should’ve been fine. Jesper should’ve been fine now, but it just seemed to be getting worse and worse.
“How are you feeling?” Jesper asked in return. He didn’t want to think of himself right now.
Wylan shrugged his shoulders, leaning down to pick up a card that Nina had dropped and hadn’t noticed. “I’m getting tired. I might go to bed soon.” He carefully set it back on the table, before returning to his spot beside Jesper. Those blue eyes looked back up at Jesper, but just for a moment too long. Like Wylan was trying to see through Jesper’s skin and read his thoughts. “You’re sure you’re fine?”
Jesper just smiled more, pressing a kiss to Wylan’s temple. “I’m positive. I feel great.” When Jesper pulled back, he could see that there was a furrow in Wylan’s brow now. It made worry start to bloom in Jesper’s chest. Was he not selling this enough? Or was Wylan just too smart? “I'm fine, Wylan,” Jesper repeated, just trying to get it through that that was the truth. He could see Wylan's jaw tense for a moment, that stubbornness that he had flaring up for a moment before it faded. Maybe it was all in Jesper's head, but the way Wylan looked at him felt clear. Wylan didn't believe him. Jesper had seen that look in Wylan's eyes before, when Jesper didn't want to elaborate on something and told Wylan to drop it. It was like he got upset that his curiosity had been snuffed out, cut short by someone elses words instead of finding out what was happening for himself.
“I'm going to bed. I love you.” And just like that, Wylan stood up. He pressed a kiss to Jesper's cheek, before walking off. Jesper didn't watch him, but despite the noise surrounding him, he could very clearly hear the click of the spare bedroom. It felt deafening, echoing. Announcing in its own way the impact of what had just happened. Wylan thought that Jesper was lying. Jesper watched the way Wylan had tampered down his own emotions, closing them off as to not escalate the situation. Jesper hated it. He wished that Wylan would've said something, maybe pressed a little harder.
Despite Jesper's resignations on opening up, there was that voice in him that wanted to. He wanted Wylan to push and pull, to crack him open and talk about Jesper's emotions so that Jesper didn't have to. Jesper wanted there to be heat in it. Not the sort of passion that most craved from a relationship. He wanted Wylan to get under his skin, to piss him off, so that maybe Jesper would have an excuse to show off how he was really feeling. Jesper knew better to make a scene out of something like this, but he wanted to. He wanted to yell how he was feeling, feel the anger he felt for himself pour out of him and for someone to notice how he was feeling. But he wouldn't do that to Wylan. Wouldn't do that to any of his friends. They didn't deserve to be treated like shit by Jesper just because he was feeling like shit.
He sighed, leaning back against the couch. He ran his hands over his face, fingers pressing in a little too hard against his skin. Jesper knew better than to do something here. He couldn't fight in front of his friends. He couldn't rile them up without consequences. Jesper told them he was going to the bathroom, but he knew once he was there that it was a bad idea.
His head let out a dull thump as he rested it against the wall. Jesper wanted to hit his head harder, he wanted to feel his skull knock against the sturdiness of the wall and feel pain bloom over his scalp. Wanted to dig his fingers into his own skin and peel it off. When Jesper opened his eyes, his reflection in the mirror looking back at him. Jesper didn't look like himself. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that this was Nina's bathroom. Ultimately, Jesper knew that this was him. Even with hair that looked like he had just rolled out of bed and tired eyes, it was still him. But it felt like the only reason Jesper knew that was him in the mirror was because it had to be, not because he was recognizing the reflection.
He knew that he needed to get a grip on himself, walk out and be social. But it was so hard. It felt like he was only going to disappoint the people around him further. They would all look at him with the annoyance that Wylan had a few minutes ago, but it wouldn't fade. It would follow them, changing their features every time they saw Jesper. All Jesper wanted to do was to lay down and sleep for a week. Sleep forever, never waking up. Maybe the pity that would mare their faces when Jesper finally left would be better than the frustration that would eventually come to them. If Jesper were to off himself, he would probably be doing a service to the people around him. Improving their lives and his own. A win-win.
Chatter from the living room could still be heard from the bathroom, Inej and Nina laughing loudly despite how late it was. It took Jesper a long couple minutes to realize that killing himself would not be a good idea for everyone involved, and that was what eventually pushed him to leave the bathroom and go back to talking with his friends. He hated when this happened. Sometimes it felt like he could be at the lowest low, literally be on the fence debating suicide, and then all of a sudden he'd snap out of it and continue moving on with his life. Something would happen that would make Jesper realize that he was just thinking too much, or that whatever he was doing was making him sad, so he'd just… stop. Snap out of it and continue on with his day. It was frustrating constantly having these emotions swirl around in his head and change like night and day, but Jesper couldn't help it. All he could hope for is that one day, he wouldn't actually meet his lowest low. That if he actually pushed himself into dying, that he could snap out of it and maybe talk to someone. He couldn't tell though, it wasn't like Jesper could read the future. All he could do was hope.
Nina smiled as Jesper came back into the living room, both her and Inej's hands relieved of cards as they continued to sit at the table. She took a glance at the couch, before looking back up at Jesper. "Where's Wylan?"
"Oh, he went to bed like… forever ago. Did you just now notice?" Jesper let out a small laugh, walking up to Nina and putting a hand on her shoulder. She leaned in, pressing the side of her head against Jesper's stomach.
"Guess I didn't. Was too busy kicking Inej's ass in Rat Screw." Inej let out a huff, rolling her eyes. "I would've told Wylan good night if I had known he went to bed."
Jesper shrugged his shoulders, twirling a piece of Nina's hair. "It happens. I'll tell him to make a bigger deal out of it next time."
"Oh, would you?" Nina asked, a smile clinging to her lips. "That would be for the best. No one should have to go to bed without a good night." Jesper let out an amused breath, shaking his head. Whenever he was with his friends, he couldn't imagine leaving them. He absolutely loved his friends, and sometimes it was hard to imagine them not loving him in return. But when Jesper got in his head, his brain decided it was going to be least useful organ in his body and tell him things that weren't true. Jesper just needed to be constantly reminded that these people were here for him, that no matter what they would love him and he would love them. It felt like something that he needed to ingrain on the inside of his skull, so that his brain could press up against it and never forget. He couldn't forget that. No matter how bad his emotions got, how thick the coagulation of it was, he couldn't forget that. But he knew that he would, some late night where his hands were beating against the side of his skull and the medicine cabinet in the bathroom started feeling like salvation.
"I'll let him know," Jesper said, squeezing Nina's shoulder. "Speaking of that, I think I'm going to hit the hay. Got big plans tomorrow."
Inej raised an eyebrow from across the table, a deck of cards being shuffled in her hands. She was surprisingly good at it. Jesper had an idea where she learned it from. "Really? Like dealing with a hangover?"
A laugh left Jesper, and he patted Nina on the shoulder before breaking away and heading towards the spare bedroom. "You know my schedule so well, Inej." He didn't think he had actually drank enough to get a hangover, but you could never predict these things. At least Jesper couldn't. Inej was probably a better source for such things, rather than Jesper's muddled mind. "Good night, love you guys." A moment later, Inej and Nina repeated it. It was the easiest call and response in the world, or at least it seemed to be for their group. But Jesper liked it that way.
There was barely any light in Nina's spare bedroom, besides the sliver of blue light coming from beside Wylan's face. His eyes were closed, but his phone was on, playing some YouTube video that he dozed off during. Jesper just watched for a second from the doorway, some uncomfortable feeling washing over his body. He couldn't name it, but something about watching Wylan sleep so peacefully made something twist in his chest. It was cute, but Jesper couldn't tell if that was why he was upset. Was it the idea that Wylan could sleep so peacefully when he clearly had known Jesper was up to something? Or maybe it was because the peacefulness would leave when Jesper finally did do something? Maybe all of this was really for attention, and Jesper was just some loser poser who cut himself in middle school and stopped because it was embarrassing and wasn't cool anymore. That definitely wasn't true. Jesper knew that. But it was funny to think about.
He shucked off his jeans, crawling into the bed next to Wylan. With the cold light of Wylan's phone, Jesper could see Wylan's eyes slip open for a moment, looking over Jesper for a moment before moving forward to wrap his arms and tighten around Jesper. He was like an affectionate boa constrictor, especially when he was tired and didn't want to talk. Jesper let out a soft laugh, managing to squeeze an arm out of Wylan's hold to wrap around him.
"Jeez, you're like a furnace," Jesper whispered, and Wylan just let out a hum, somehow getting even closer and pressing his face against Jesper's neck.
"Maybe if you weren't so tall, I wouldn't be so hot." Jesper's eyebrows furrowed together, looking up at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what that could possibly mean.
"…What?"
"You're so tall. You're not well insulated. It lets all the warmth out because you're not optimized for wind reduction." Jesper kind of understood what Wylan was saying, but he wasn't completely sure what he was trying to say. Eventually Jesper let his hand fall, gently running over Wylan's back.
"Well, that's why I have you. To keep me warm." Jesper closed his eyes, letting the tinny sound of someone talking on Wylan's phone fill in the silence. Jesper didn't want to think about suicide when Wylan was pressed up against him, but it was hard to get it out of his head. He was starting to get jealous of a made up person, and person that would fill up the void Jesper would leave and steal all of Wylan's warmth. That specific thought reminded Jesper that he had in fact, been drinking tonight, and that not all of his thoughts could be trusted. But he knew that the idea of killing himself was a sober thought, too.
It was just hard to think about Wylan meeting someone new in this current moment, even if Jesper was dead and buried. Jesper's entire life, he had heard of widows eventually moving on, finding a new partner while still holding their deceased one close. It's what they would've wanted. Not Jesper though. If Wylan were to move on, Jesper wanted them to die so he could beat them up in hell.
"Stop," Wylan mumbled, placing his hand over Jesper's face. A huff left Jesper's throat, blinking against Wylan's palm.
"Doing what?"
"Thinking. You're body keeps tensing. Relax, dude." Jesper promptly licked Wylan's hand, and Wylan responded by wiping his wet hand all over Jesper's neck. A groan left Jesper's throat, and he pushed Wylan's whole body away. It was gross, yes, but then Wylan started to laugh. It was soft, quiet, but it was one of Jesper's favorite sounds that came out of Wylan. The smile that accompanied it, the look in his eyes. It made Jesper want to turn on a light just to see it, even if he knew that would cause the exact opposite reaction with Wylan. Jesper didn't want to leave this. Even when he thought everyone hated him and that it would be better if he was dead, he could still enjoy this now. The future was a beast, one that he couldn't tame or try and predict. But one day at a time. Jesper could handle a day.