Please Take Me Home [3]
Title: Please Take Me Home
Author: encouragedsmile
Rating: R
Pairing: Jalex
Warning: Mental illness
Summary: He needed imagination. He needed color, voices, sounds, feelings; anything to make his mind work. They took that all away from him though.
Disclaimer: I do not own All Time Low
A/N: I have so much fun writing Jack's parts. I just started this afternoon and finally finished after many breaks. Enjoy!
Masterpost
He was panicking. Images flashed before his vision; a million different things at once. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his hands started to shake. What was he going to do? No one was here to help him this time; no one was going to aid in his conquest.
“God dammit, Jack Barakat, get a grip!” he scolded himself. It was only pitching an idea. He didn’t need to worry so much about it. Due to his parents, the boss would probably go with whatever Jack wanted to write about. Then again, he had never met the head of the paper, so there was no saying what could happen.
Taking in a deep breath and moving towards the board room, Jack held his chin up high. If he didn’t think about the bad things, it was less likely they were to happen. Reaching the room, Jack carefully turned the knob and stepped inside.
He was greeted by a pair of kind eyes and coffee. Waving off who he assumed to be an intern, Jack took a good look at the room. It was much like what one would expect it to look like: gray walls with a large desk in the middle. Twenty chairs surrounded the table, and at the head was, who he assumed, to be the head of the paper.
“Mr. Barakat! A pleasure to meet you!” Spoke the man, “I’m Mr. Charles, but you can just call me Ken. I’m a friend of your father’s.” Jack decided he liked the man. Mr. Charles, or Ken as he preferred to be called, had an air of authority around him. He didn’t seem like the ruthless, bug-eyed bosses that he saw in movies, though. In reality, the gray haired man seemed to be gentle, with worn, old eyes that couldn’t help but show laughter.
“A pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Char-Ken,” Jack rushed.
“So, from what I’ve learned, you seem to be quite the writer, besides your social skills.” Ken laughed at this and Jack couldn’t help but chuckle a little too. At least his boss knew how much of a fuck up he was when it came to interacting with people.
Putting a smile on his face, Jack replied, “Well, not to be cocky, but I am pretty skilled.”
Cracking a small grin, Ken moved out of the chair at the head of the table and moved towards Jack. “My boy,” he spoke, “I have high hopes for you. Maybe you can make it to the top, but it won’t be easy. I won’t lie to you when I say that one of the only reasons I hired you was because of your father, but after hearing what one of my best employees had to say about your writing, I knew I had to have you. “ Ken stopped then and examined Jack. He was wearing tight jeans and a plaid shirt with a leather jacket to top it all. A bag was slung over his shoulder, most likely containing his writing. Classy, casual; Ken liked this boy. He seemed like a good kid. One could tell a lot about someone from the clothes they wear, but the most important thing was the eyes. Ken could see that Jack’s eyes held nothing but curiosity, kindness, and even some spark; what for, Ken didn’t know.
“Uh…. Sir, I mean Ken, are you done or…?” Jack questioned.
As if being awoken by a horn, Ken looked back up to Jack’s face, “Oh yes, sorry. Lost focus. Happens sometimes. Anyway, did you come prepared with an idea for a story?”
Jack face light up like the fourth of July as he spoke, “Oh yes! I actually came up with it right after Mr. Kent had left the interview.” Shuffling through his bag, Jack came up with the sheet that contained the details of his story. “Here,” he said, thrusting it towards Ken, “That is the general description.”
Ken took the paper and began to read.
Jack B. Barakat 4/14/11
• Subject: St. Michael’s Institution
• Contacted this morning by the head of the institute, Susan Hyde, with permission to do an article on the workings of the institution.
• Expected to be a work of multiple pieces published over time.
• Pro-longed research required.
• Interview staff
• Observe patients
• Can begin immediately
Jack was nervously playing with his hair. He probably thinks it’s stupid, Jack told himself, I shouldn’t have tried. He always got this way. Yes, he knew he was an excellent writer, but rejection was a terrible thing to experience. All throughout high school, while he did have pride in his skill, others didn’t think it as cool. Jack wasn’t what one would call the “popular” kid. In fact, he was quite the opposite. He had his times in trash cans, even a few lockers, depending on the day. Girls would laugh at his multicolored hair and guys would call him names such as “faggot” and “queer”. Jack played it off though, pretending it didn’t affect him, but it was those times that came back to him in moments like this.
Ken lifted his head and handed the paper back to Jack. No emotion showed on his face, which made it hard for Jack to decipher the older man’s thoughts on his idea. Taking in a shaky breath, Jack waited to hear Ken’s thoughts.
Finally, Ken looked up to younger boy with a toothy grin, “A brilliant idea, my boy! Can you get started on it tomorrow, even today? I need it in my paper!”
Relief shot through Jack like a bullet, “I can start today if you like? I could always call Mrs. Hyde and tell her what’s up.”
“That would be perfect! I’m excited, Barakat. If your work is as good as I have been told, this is going to sky rocket the paper’s sales. Don’t let me down, boy. Now shoo! Get a’going on your work!” Ken pushed Jack out of the board room and shut the door.
A pleasant exit, he thought. All Jack needed to do was make a phone call and he was all set. Time to call the eagle.
Jack moved towards the exit of the news’ headquarters and out onto the street. Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly dialed the number of Mrs. Hyde.
Ring
Ring
“Hello, Mrs. Hyde here, head of th-“
“Hello, Mrs. Hyde, it’s me, Jack Barakat.” Trying to keep calm, Jack sucked in a large sum of air, and immediately started to cough. Damn smokers.
“Oh, Mr. Barakat! A pleasure to hear from you. Have you set up when you will start visiting St. Michael’s?” Even through the phone, Jack was still scared shitless. Even in the woman’s voice, one could hear the icy prick of stern determination.
“Yes, I have actually. My boss asked if it would be appropriate for me to start looking around today, if that is alright with you?” To be honest, Jack was excited. His first real assignment, made by himself for himself. Of course he would have to balance it out with college, but that wouldn’t be too hard. They were very lenient over there, not too strict. Also, considering his parents had donated a great deal of money to the school, it wouldn’t be too hard to postpone his studies until after this “adventure”, as Jack would like to think it.
The young man heard a few hushed voices before Mrs. Hyde spoke again, “You may come over today. I’ll meet you in the lobby and give you a grand tour before any actual research is done. How is that, Mr. Barakat?”
“Yes! Of course! I’ll be seeing you in a few then. Thank-you, again.” The dial tone had signaled that Mrs. Hyde had hung-up. Disregarding the lack of formal good-byes, Jack exhaled. Deciding jumping for joy in the middle of the sidewalk wasn’t appropriate, he continued on his walk to the large building that was St. Michael’s Institution for the Mentally Ill.
**
Walking up the large stone steps, Jack stopped to absorb it all. St. Michael’s was an old hospital, built back in the 20s. Over time it went under renovation and additions; it was even shut down to only be brought back about five years ago. Five towering floors of stone looked back at him, threatening to take him in and never let go.
Ignoring the creepiness, Jack continued up the steps and walked into the lobby. It was nice; paintings of all colors lined the burgundy walls. Wooden furniture was scattered around the room and a few couches lined the walls. A petite, young blonde stood behind what he assumed to be the receptionists’ desk. Taking his eyes off the décor, Jack moved towards the blonde in hope she knew where Mrs. Hyde was.
“Excuse me I was just wondering if you knew wher-“
“Mr. Barakat!” called someone behind him. Turning around he saw Mrs. Hyde, sitting on one of the couches, a book in hand. Standing up, she walked to Jack in one graceful movement. This time, Jack didn’t have the urge to pee himself right then and there. Progress.
“Hello, Mrs. Hyde. I’m most utterly excited for this tour.” Refraining from slapping himself in the face, Jack plastered a fake smile on his face. What the hell was he doing? Talking like that? What the actual fuck?
Eagle woman didn’t seem to see the young man’s internal struggle and moved towards one of the elevators, “I thought we should start from bottom to top. The basement is our first stop.”
Conflicted on whether or not to point out the rhyme she made, Jack moved into the elevator with Mrs. Hyde. He had never liked basement, what with the cold and dampness they always seemed to have. To be honest, they creeped him out, even more then Mrs. Hyde.
“Are you nervous?” She asked.
What a strange question, Jack thought, “Yeah, a little bit. This is my first story for the paper, actually.” Shut up! His mind screamed. It was a horrible thing to say that he had never done an investigative story before. Idiot.
“I could tell. You don’t have to be so nervous. I don’t bite. Too much.” And with that the elevator doors opened, welcoming them into the basement. It didn’t look like a basement, though. It was one long hallway and Mrs. Hyde seemed to know exactly where she wanted to lead Jack.
Following behind, Jack looked at the walls, or windows. Down the whole hallway, there seemed to be types of recreation rooms; a pool, weight room, TV area, even a library.
“This is where we like the patients fraternize, with constant supervision of course. Depending on why they’re here, patients only get access to some rooms. Only five patients are allowed to use the pool. A shame really. I don’t even know why it is here in the first place.”
Jack nodded his head. All in all, he was already fascinated. Looking through the windows, he saw patients idly doing work in the library, most likely school work. He was sure that education was still a priority here.
“I see you have an eye for the library, would you like to go inside?” asked Mrs. Hyde.
Jack shook his head though, “No, I was just wondering if the kids who are still in school get educated here?”
A smile popped onto eagle woman’s lips, “Yes, they do, if they can handle it. We try not to stress school too much for some of our fragile patients. But yes, a lot of those here get an education.”
The young man nodded and wrote that down on the little note pad he had in his pocket. Since he stepped onto the stone steps, Jack had been taking little notes here and there of this place. “Are you ready to continue?” He questioned.
With another graceful movement, Mrs. Hyde turned on her heel and led him father down the hallway, “Now, let me show you the cafeteria.”
A/N: Next chapter is Alex's. Hopefully I can get that done by tomorrow.
Author: encouragedsmile
Rating: R
Pairing: Jalex
Warning: Mental illness
Summary: He needed imagination. He needed color, voices, sounds, feelings; anything to make his mind work. They took that all away from him though.
Disclaimer: I do not own All Time Low
A/N: I have so much fun writing Jack's parts. I just started this afternoon and finally finished after many breaks. Enjoy!
Masterpost
He was panicking. Images flashed before his vision; a million different things at once. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his hands started to shake. What was he going to do? No one was here to help him this time; no one was going to aid in his conquest.
“God dammit, Jack Barakat, get a grip!” he scolded himself. It was only pitching an idea. He didn’t need to worry so much about it. Due to his parents, the boss would probably go with whatever Jack wanted to write about. Then again, he had never met the head of the paper, so there was no saying what could happen.
Taking in a deep breath and moving towards the board room, Jack held his chin up high. If he didn’t think about the bad things, it was less likely they were to happen. Reaching the room, Jack carefully turned the knob and stepped inside.
He was greeted by a pair of kind eyes and coffee. Waving off who he assumed to be an intern, Jack took a good look at the room. It was much like what one would expect it to look like: gray walls with a large desk in the middle. Twenty chairs surrounded the table, and at the head was, who he assumed, to be the head of the paper.
“Mr. Barakat! A pleasure to meet you!” Spoke the man, “I’m Mr. Charles, but you can just call me Ken. I’m a friend of your father’s.” Jack decided he liked the man. Mr. Charles, or Ken as he preferred to be called, had an air of authority around him. He didn’t seem like the ruthless, bug-eyed bosses that he saw in movies, though. In reality, the gray haired man seemed to be gentle, with worn, old eyes that couldn’t help but show laughter.
“A pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Char-Ken,” Jack rushed.
“So, from what I’ve learned, you seem to be quite the writer, besides your social skills.” Ken laughed at this and Jack couldn’t help but chuckle a little too. At least his boss knew how much of a fuck up he was when it came to interacting with people.
Putting a smile on his face, Jack replied, “Well, not to be cocky, but I am pretty skilled.”
Cracking a small grin, Ken moved out of the chair at the head of the table and moved towards Jack. “My boy,” he spoke, “I have high hopes for you. Maybe you can make it to the top, but it won’t be easy. I won’t lie to you when I say that one of the only reasons I hired you was because of your father, but after hearing what one of my best employees had to say about your writing, I knew I had to have you. “ Ken stopped then and examined Jack. He was wearing tight jeans and a plaid shirt with a leather jacket to top it all. A bag was slung over his shoulder, most likely containing his writing. Classy, casual; Ken liked this boy. He seemed like a good kid. One could tell a lot about someone from the clothes they wear, but the most important thing was the eyes. Ken could see that Jack’s eyes held nothing but curiosity, kindness, and even some spark; what for, Ken didn’t know.
“Uh…. Sir, I mean Ken, are you done or…?” Jack questioned.
As if being awoken by a horn, Ken looked back up to Jack’s face, “Oh yes, sorry. Lost focus. Happens sometimes. Anyway, did you come prepared with an idea for a story?”
Jack face light up like the fourth of July as he spoke, “Oh yes! I actually came up with it right after Mr. Kent had left the interview.” Shuffling through his bag, Jack came up with the sheet that contained the details of his story. “Here,” he said, thrusting it towards Ken, “That is the general description.”
Ken took the paper and began to read.
Jack B. Barakat 4/14/11
• Subject: St. Michael’s Institution
• Contacted this morning by the head of the institute, Susan Hyde, with permission to do an article on the workings of the institution.
• Expected to be a work of multiple pieces published over time.
• Pro-longed research required.
• Interview staff
• Observe patients
• Can begin immediately
Jack was nervously playing with his hair. He probably thinks it’s stupid, Jack told himself, I shouldn’t have tried. He always got this way. Yes, he knew he was an excellent writer, but rejection was a terrible thing to experience. All throughout high school, while he did have pride in his skill, others didn’t think it as cool. Jack wasn’t what one would call the “popular” kid. In fact, he was quite the opposite. He had his times in trash cans, even a few lockers, depending on the day. Girls would laugh at his multicolored hair and guys would call him names such as “faggot” and “queer”. Jack played it off though, pretending it didn’t affect him, but it was those times that came back to him in moments like this.
Ken lifted his head and handed the paper back to Jack. No emotion showed on his face, which made it hard for Jack to decipher the older man’s thoughts on his idea. Taking in a shaky breath, Jack waited to hear Ken’s thoughts.
Finally, Ken looked up to younger boy with a toothy grin, “A brilliant idea, my boy! Can you get started on it tomorrow, even today? I need it in my paper!”
Relief shot through Jack like a bullet, “I can start today if you like? I could always call Mrs. Hyde and tell her what’s up.”
“That would be perfect! I’m excited, Barakat. If your work is as good as I have been told, this is going to sky rocket the paper’s sales. Don’t let me down, boy. Now shoo! Get a’going on your work!” Ken pushed Jack out of the board room and shut the door.
A pleasant exit, he thought. All Jack needed to do was make a phone call and he was all set. Time to call the eagle.
Jack moved towards the exit of the news’ headquarters and out onto the street. Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly dialed the number of Mrs. Hyde.
Ring
Ring
“Hello, Mrs. Hyde here, head of th-“
“Hello, Mrs. Hyde, it’s me, Jack Barakat.” Trying to keep calm, Jack sucked in a large sum of air, and immediately started to cough. Damn smokers.
“Oh, Mr. Barakat! A pleasure to hear from you. Have you set up when you will start visiting St. Michael’s?” Even through the phone, Jack was still scared shitless. Even in the woman’s voice, one could hear the icy prick of stern determination.
“Yes, I have actually. My boss asked if it would be appropriate for me to start looking around today, if that is alright with you?” To be honest, Jack was excited. His first real assignment, made by himself for himself. Of course he would have to balance it out with college, but that wouldn’t be too hard. They were very lenient over there, not too strict. Also, considering his parents had donated a great deal of money to the school, it wouldn’t be too hard to postpone his studies until after this “adventure”, as Jack would like to think it.
The young man heard a few hushed voices before Mrs. Hyde spoke again, “You may come over today. I’ll meet you in the lobby and give you a grand tour before any actual research is done. How is that, Mr. Barakat?”
“Yes! Of course! I’ll be seeing you in a few then. Thank-you, again.” The dial tone had signaled that Mrs. Hyde had hung-up. Disregarding the lack of formal good-byes, Jack exhaled. Deciding jumping for joy in the middle of the sidewalk wasn’t appropriate, he continued on his walk to the large building that was St. Michael’s Institution for the Mentally Ill.
**
Walking up the large stone steps, Jack stopped to absorb it all. St. Michael’s was an old hospital, built back in the 20s. Over time it went under renovation and additions; it was even shut down to only be brought back about five years ago. Five towering floors of stone looked back at him, threatening to take him in and never let go.
Ignoring the creepiness, Jack continued up the steps and walked into the lobby. It was nice; paintings of all colors lined the burgundy walls. Wooden furniture was scattered around the room and a few couches lined the walls. A petite, young blonde stood behind what he assumed to be the receptionists’ desk. Taking his eyes off the décor, Jack moved towards the blonde in hope she knew where Mrs. Hyde was.
“Excuse me I was just wondering if you knew wher-“
“Mr. Barakat!” called someone behind him. Turning around he saw Mrs. Hyde, sitting on one of the couches, a book in hand. Standing up, she walked to Jack in one graceful movement. This time, Jack didn’t have the urge to pee himself right then and there. Progress.
“Hello, Mrs. Hyde. I’m most utterly excited for this tour.” Refraining from slapping himself in the face, Jack plastered a fake smile on his face. What the hell was he doing? Talking like that? What the actual fuck?
Eagle woman didn’t seem to see the young man’s internal struggle and moved towards one of the elevators, “I thought we should start from bottom to top. The basement is our first stop.”
Conflicted on whether or not to point out the rhyme she made, Jack moved into the elevator with Mrs. Hyde. He had never liked basement, what with the cold and dampness they always seemed to have. To be honest, they creeped him out, even more then Mrs. Hyde.
“Are you nervous?” She asked.
What a strange question, Jack thought, “Yeah, a little bit. This is my first story for the paper, actually.” Shut up! His mind screamed. It was a horrible thing to say that he had never done an investigative story before. Idiot.
“I could tell. You don’t have to be so nervous. I don’t bite. Too much.” And with that the elevator doors opened, welcoming them into the basement. It didn’t look like a basement, though. It was one long hallway and Mrs. Hyde seemed to know exactly where she wanted to lead Jack.
Following behind, Jack looked at the walls, or windows. Down the whole hallway, there seemed to be types of recreation rooms; a pool, weight room, TV area, even a library.
“This is where we like the patients fraternize, with constant supervision of course. Depending on why they’re here, patients only get access to some rooms. Only five patients are allowed to use the pool. A shame really. I don’t even know why it is here in the first place.”
Jack nodded his head. All in all, he was already fascinated. Looking through the windows, he saw patients idly doing work in the library, most likely school work. He was sure that education was still a priority here.
“I see you have an eye for the library, would you like to go inside?” asked Mrs. Hyde.
Jack shook his head though, “No, I was just wondering if the kids who are still in school get educated here?”
A smile popped onto eagle woman’s lips, “Yes, they do, if they can handle it. We try not to stress school too much for some of our fragile patients. But yes, a lot of those here get an education.”
The young man nodded and wrote that down on the little note pad he had in his pocket. Since he stepped onto the stone steps, Jack had been taking little notes here and there of this place. “Are you ready to continue?” He questioned.
With another graceful movement, Mrs. Hyde turned on her heel and led him father down the hallway, “Now, let me show you the cafeteria.”
A/N: Next chapter is Alex's. Hopefully I can get that done by tomorrow.