I'm really fucking sick and I've missed two days of school and I'm going to throw up 😀

John Pov
I sat on my floor for a while, first in shock then because I was too upset with myself to move. I should've told him to stay. Knowing Alex, he's probably beating himself up for it. And if he's not god only knows what he's doing with Ed and Tom.

I slowly got to my feet and left my room. I went to the kitchen and grabbed the car keys which were always on the rack.

"Harry, tell mom I went to see Alex."
I told Harry as I left the house.

"Gotcha chief." He said, giving a thumbs up.

I got in the car and made my way to his apartment as best as I could trying to rack my brain for the address.

Once I saw the apartment I parked my car in the parking lot and jogged to the lobby. I went into the elevator and stared at the vomit stain on the floor.

Listening to the Mozart, I couldn't help but laugh. I don't know what it is that made me laugh I just needed some sort of relief.

The elevator made a ding and stopped at his level. I walked out of the elevator, my adrenaline rising. I knocked on the door, my heart in my throat.

"Hello,"
Tom said, opening the door.

"Hi sir..
is Alex here?"
I asked, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

"Yeah, he's in his room," Tom said, opening the door wider as a welcome in sort of gesture.

I walked in and muttered a thanks and went to Alex's room. I opened his door and saw him sitting at his desk, furiously writing on in a journal.

He wasn't wearing his coat, just a black T-shirt, which somewhat took me off guard.

He groaned and threw the journal aside, grabbing his head. He grabbed at his sharpener and lifted the top off of it, and put the thing to his hand, taking out a razor.

My eyes widened and I cleared my throat. Alex dropped his razor and put it on his desk.

"Oh. Hi. What're you doing here?"
He asked, a slight panic and surprise in his voice.

"..Came by to say hi." I replied, closing the door behind me.

"So what're you doing?"
I asked, sitting down on his bed.

"Heh. Uh..writing,"
He said,  giving a small smile.

"..right. Anyway, you wanna uh...talk about earlier?" I said, wincing on my own words.

"Um.
No.
Not really."
He replied, taking out a cig and propping it in his mouth.

"So we're just gonna ignore it?" I asked.

He shrugged.
"Guess so."

"Why?
Why don't you want to talk to anyone? Why do you have such trouble being fucking nice to people? Why are you like this?" I shot at him, trying to wipe his smirk with my words.

"Don't know Johnny. What made you the way you are? If there's a handbook to being normal then I'll gladly take a look." He replied.

Oh that fucker.

"Is there a handbook to being a douchebag or did you figure that out on your own?" I hissed.

"Eh. Somewhat on my own. A little bit from Ed." He replied.

"Why are you such a bastard Alex?"
I asked.

"Because I am one!"
He exclaimed, a smile on his face.

How the fuck is he smiling?

"What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"John if you couldn't fucking figure it out I'm genuinely concerned for you. I'm a bastard John. I don't know who my dad is, and my mom is fucking gone. So maybe, if you could just choose your words a bit more carefully next time that'd be great."
He said angrily.

It was quiet between us until I whispered, "Your arms look stupid."

He snickered and said,
"Your face looks stupid."

I sighed.
"I set myself up for that one."
I muttered.

"You really did."
He said.

He looked at his lit cigarette and then glanced to his arm, sighing.

"You should probably go."
He said quietly.

"What? Why?" I asked.

"Because I'm on the edge of a mental breakdown and I don't want you to see that." He told me, looking up at me.

"What do you mean 'a mental breakd-"

"I mean, I'm fucking-
I just-
you gotta go okay?
I'll see you at school."
He said.

"Wait but-"

"Please. I just need to lose my mind for a little bit or I don't know what I'll do to myself." He said, not looking to me anymore.

"Alex, I can help. Or at least try to."
I said.

"No just..go." He told me, pointing to the door.

When he did, my breath caught in my throat at the sign of his scars and a burn on his arm.

I slowly got up and left.

As I walked to the elevator,
I knew I had made the wrong decision by leaving.