Friday, January 30th, 2015

Jack followed Wham Bar out of the pub as Begs chewed the ear off of Mark about a girl he was seeing. Their night out in Limerick had been a bit of a let down. The drive down had been a quiet one, apart for Begs' occasional excited comment about his latest Tinder date - that neither Jack nor Wham Bar had really engaged with apart from a few half-hearted grunts.

Jack had been in the back seat, his arms folded across his chest, staring blankly out the window. It had been a few days since the date with Paul—the attack, the panic that had followed—and Jack couldn't shake that feeling of being on edge. The sharp sting of fear, the blood rushing to his head, the shame that still clung to him like a second skin. He had told himself it was fine, but part of him knew better. It was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to strike again. He knew before they had left for Limerick that he didn't want to go, and he should have cancelled, because he really wasn't in the mood. But he had force fed himself pints with the lads to be a good sport for their first night out together in a very long time.

It was just after midnight when they left the pub and wandered back towards Mark's house in College Court, where they were all staying. The vibes were weird. Jack was tipsy, and in his head. Wham Bar was fairly quiet; he wasn't drinking because of his antidepressants. Begs was going round in circles about a girl he was seeing from Tinder, grinning ear to ear while Mark bit the bullet as the only one to entertain him with responses.

It should have made Jack happy for him, but something was gnawing at him, pulling him deeper into his own thoughts. Begs' enthusiasm was pissing him off a bit — he was going on about how she liked the same movies as him, how she didn't seem to care about any of the usual nonsense people made such a big deal out of. How she was from Dublin but didn't have the rotten accent.

Jack was just replaying his own date with Paul in his head, thinking about how unfair it was that he couldn't boast like Begs about the guy he liked. About how he couldn't even go out in public without being roared at. His chest felt tight, and he couldn't help but compare Begs' new relationship to the ease with which Mark and Laura seemed to have also found each other. It annoyed him. It wasn't fair.

'She's into rugby too, lads. How mad is that?!' Begs continued, his excitement cutting through the night air, but Jack wasn't really listening anymore. The world around him started to feel distant—fuzzy, like he was floating outside of it. His thoughts were drowning him, pressing in from every angle, until they became too much.

He felt like he couldn't breathe.

The tightening in his chest was back. It had started earlier in the evening, and now it felt like it was building. His heart rate picked up, and with each beat, it felt harder to focus on anything else. His mouth went dry.

Mark, ever the observant one, seemed to notice first. 'Jack?' he asked, his voice cutting through the haze. 'You alright?'

Jack tried to smile, to shrug it off, but the tightness in his chest was suffocating. He couldn't breathe. His body felt like it was betraying him, like his mind was racing a mile a minute, but he was stuck. His feet felt heavy, his hands were clammy, and his head was swimming.

'Jack?' Wham Bar asked, his voice sounding further away than it was.

'I—I'm fine,' Jack stammered, but it was a lie, and they all knew it.

Begs' voice grew louder in his ears, but it felt like a distant echo. 'Yeah, so anyway, I think she might be the one, lads. I mean, who even thought I'd find someone like her, you know?'

Mark's steps faltered when he saw Jack's face. 'Here lad, seriously, you're looking rough. What's wrong?'

Jack's breath was shallow now, his chest rising and falling erratically. He could barely focus on their faces—he was so caught up in his own panic, and it felt like everything inside him was about to explode.

'I can't...' he managed to rasp, but it felt like the words didn't belong to him. They were stuck, lodged somewhere deep in his throat.

'Jack, what's going on?' Mark urged, stepping closer. 'Are you OK?'

'I- I-' he stuttered.

'What is it? The drink? Stress? Something else?' Wham Bar continued.

Jack's eyes darted between the three of them, his vision blurring, and the only thing he could focus on was the knot in his stomach that had taken over everything else. His body was shaking now.

'I... I can't...' Jack whispered, his voice barely audible.

'Jack?' Begs reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. And that set him off.

His breath came in sharp, jagged gasps, each inhale shallow and desperate, as though the air around him had suddenly turned thick and suffocating. Tears blurred his vision, hot and relentless, spilling down his face in streams that he couldn't wipe away fast enough. His chest tightened like a vice pressing down on him, making each breath feel further out of reach.

'Jack!' Mark grabbed him and led him to sit on the curb as Jack's tears and sobbing intensified.

Even sitting, the world around him spun in frantic, disorienting circles, and his body trembled uncontrollably, as if it were betraying him. He couldn't get enough air, and the more he tried to steady himself, the worse it became, the overwhelming weight of the fear crushing down on him from every side.

For what must have been ten minutes, Jack sobbed uncontrollably as his three friends watched on in a mix of confusion, discomfort, and worry. Mark and Begs sat either side of him on the curb, and Wham Bar stood in front of them, watching on anxiously. After what felt like an eternity, Jack finally exhaled, trying to steady his breath. The panic was starting to subside, but the heaviness in his chest remained.

'Are you OK?'

Jack didn't have an answer. He wanted to tell them—the panic, the fear, the weight of everything he hadn't said. He wanted to tell them about Paul, about his fight with his mother. About his secret.

He wanted to tell them he was gay.

But the words weren't coming. They felt trapped, tangled up inside him in what felt like a web of lies. He felt this attack had sent him backwards months, after what finally felt like real progress.

'I'm... I'm fine,' Jack said hoarsely after a few minutes of silence, though it wasn't entirely true. 'Just... stress. College and stuff. You know how it is.'

Mark looked at him with concern, but he didn't push. Wham Bar and Begs exchanged a quiet glance but didn't say anything.

'Alright, Jacko,' Mark said, his tone soft, as if he could see right through the lie but he didn't pry. 'If you want to talk about it, you know where we are.'

Jack nodded, swallowing hard. 'Thanks,' he muttered, the words feeling small as Wham Bar pulled him to his feet. 'I just need some sleep I think.'

The four of them continued walking in silence after that, the tension lingering but slowly fading into the background. Jack kept his thoughts to himself, but deep down, he knew that whatever he was carrying, he couldn't keep it buried for much longer.