Rian's POV:

I call Alex approximately 634.8 more times before I click my phone off, sighing with frustration. He's my best friend, and the pain of simply watching from a distance as he suffers unbearable heartbreak is horrible.

I know that he should probably get professional help, but I can't bring myself to do that to him. This has been carrying on since Jack left in November eight years ago. I knew he was suicidal, since he and Alex were my best friends. Jack never told Alex, he told me he didn't want Alex worrying about him. To this day, Alex doesn't know that I knew.

I just didn't think he would actually do it. No one really did. Alex was his happiness, and I figured as long as he had Alex, his smile wouldn't falter. There was no way Alex would ever leave Jack. That kid would have traveled through hell and back as many times as it took as long as he could have his Jack.

Alex has pushed me away so much these past few years. I haven't gone to his apartment in a few months, since every time he just tells me to leave. I now only have Zack, but he lives about forty-five minutes away and we both have busy lives, so it's hard for us to hang out.

I pull my winter coat on, snatching my keys from the counter as I slide my feet into my boots. I wanted to talk to Alex; I wanted my best friend back. He wasn't going through this alone anymore. I drive through the neighborhood to Alex's small house. It was one of the only ones in the area that wasn't decorated.

He'd just had his birthday, but we didn't celebrate. That's part of the reason I knew he was getting worse. Even through his heartbreak, we always celebrated his birthday. I'd lost Jack, and I wasn't going to lose Alex, too, if I could help it.

I knock on his front door, getting no reply. I knock harder, still not getting a reply. The lights are off, so I assume he's asleep. I sigh, shoving my hands in my pockets as I walk back to my car.

"Rian?" a voice says softly.

I turn around to see Alex, wearing his favorite hoodie of Jack's. He looked pale, and I already knew he was drunk. That's all he did anymore. He said it helped him stop thinking about Jack so much, but I knew it was sucking the life out of him. Drinking can't solve anything. It's just a temporary fix. He was also thinner than normal, but grief does that to a person I suppose. He looked dead. Jack didn't just kill himself, he killed Alex as well.

I rush over to him and hug him, which I haven't done in years. He hesitantly hugs me back, staying put until I pull away. He motions for me to come inside, so I do. I place my boots by the front door and hang my coat on the rack, following him as he walks upstairs. He sits on his bed, patting it to indicate he wanted me to sit there. I sit down, looking at him, assuming he wanted to tell me something.

"I'm not that drunk," he says softly. "And I'm well aware of what I'm going to be telling you, so take me seriously, okay?" I nod. "I'm sorry for pushing you away. I miss you."

"I missed you too, Alex," I reply, giving him a warm smile.

"I should be over this by now, shouldn't I?" he asks. I don't reply, because he should be. It's unusual that he's not. "I should have his stupid, beautiful face out of my mind and be able to fall asleep without desperately wishing to feel his arms around me. I should be able to decorate and be out in the snow without thinking of him. I should be able to play music because that fucking makes me happy, but no. It's like his name is in every note that I play, in every snowflake, in every part of this house. I can't escape him, but I don't want to." He buries is face in his hands, but he doesn't cry. He just looks defeated.

"I think you need to stop staying home so much," I say slowly. "I know that'll be hard for you, but you can work on it a bit at a time. You just dwell in your misery here." He nods, but doesn't say anything. "You should get some sleep, and I should be getting home."

I stand up, walking out the door as Alex says, "You can stay the night, the couch is comfy." I nod at him before closing his door softly, making my way downstairs to close my tired eyes.

Alex's POV:

As Rian leaves my room, I can't bring myself to fall asleep. Jack is the only thing on my mind. It hasn't been this bad in a long time.

You're probably wondering why I haven't considered suicide. Well, I'll tell you this. I know Rian cares about me, and I'm never going to put him through the pain I'm in. He'd have lost his two best friends. Also, Jack would feel disappointed. I live with this sense of hope that one day, just maybe, I'll figure out he's not dead. I'll be able to wrap my arms around him again and tell him how much he means to me.

~flashback~

He lays his head on my chest, reading as I run my fingers through his dark hair, admiring everything about him. "Jack?" I whisper, not really meaning to say it out loud as I didn't want to disturb him.

"Yeah, Lex?" he counters, shutting his book and sitting up to place it on the wooden nightstand. I sit up and pull him into my lap so he's facing me, pressing my forehead to his as I wrap my arms around his slim waist. He drapes his arms around my neck and smiles a little, which kills me inside. He's so adorable.

"I'm so, so in love with you," I murmur before pushing us into a delicate kiss.

"And I love you even more," he says against my lips, wrapping his arms even tighter around me. I reluctantly pull away from our kiss, pushing our foreheads together once more.

"Jack Barakat, I'm going to marry you one day. You mean everything to me," I assure him. "I mean that, I mean it so much more than I can say with words."

He smiles again, kissing me until I'm out of breath.

~flashback over~

That happened in this room, on this bed. It was shortly after we moved in and shortly before he vanished. I cry into his sweatshirt, which I didn't think was possible since I've already cried so much today. Everything reminded me of him, and it just wasn't fair.

I cry myself into an uneasy sleep as one thought replays in my mind over and over again- why wasn't I good enough to stop him from leaving me?