Under the Impression [[1/?]]
Title: Under the Impression
Author: dee_jayDJ
Rating: This chapter-- only PG-13 for frequent swearing
Pairing: Zack/Alex, with mentions of Jack/Alex
Summary: As a forever toiled-over Alex reveals something private with Zack, his whole world is flipped over and he has to fight to make sense of what he used to believe was true.
Disclaimer: I do not own All Time Low, else Zack wouldn't be put through so much stress all the time ._.
Author Notes: Just wanna thank you guys who commented-- Thanks a lot, I don't think i would've gotten through my pounding headache to do this if you didn't. -.-;; Also... Er, Zack swears a lot. And... Eh. Beware of cliffhanger.
It’s days like these when Zack really wondered why the things he dreamed never came true, but the tings that seemed like nightmares always ended up being the only thing real anymore.
The morning after Alex had spoken to Zack on the front steps of the bus was pure and utter hell. Rian was hung over like you wouldn’t believe, so almost everyone had to listen to his early-morning complaining. Now, normally, Rian was a really sweet guy. Completely awesome, in fact. But… After a few good hours of nothing but binge drinking, and a only-partially-full night’s sleep, Rian could be a total bitch.
Zack’s head was ringing, and he really wished it was because of too much alcohol consumption, too. But no, of course not. It was merely because Alex’s words wouldn’t leave him, no matter how hard he tried. Everything in him tried to forget it, turn the night into one of those dreams he sometimes had where Alex was his, and Jack was the friend that got fucked over. But those kind of dreams never seemed to want to come true for Zack Merrick. Real life just seemed to be one huge nightmare anymore, one he both wanted to wake up from, but loathed to lose. Loathed, simply because a loss of this reality would most definitely mean that Alex would be with Jack, happy as always, and he would still be the one. Alone.
Another pothole later, a low groan left Zack’s lips as he poured himself a cup of coffee, trying to keep himself stationary on the moving bus. For some reason, he suddenly found himself both without a coffee, and lacking a coffee pot to make a new one.
“Damnit!” he swore quietly, blinking past his half-asleep stupor at the now-broken coffee pot on the floor, and the slowly retreating Rian with the cup he’d just made. The last pothole seemed to have the power to knock the coffee pot right to the floor, cracking badly enough that lukewarm caffeinated liquid soiled the floor.
“Oh, shit. Looks like there’s no coffee time for Zacky this morning!” one Jack Barakat sing-songed as he passed by, looking sympathetic despite his slightly harsh words. Unknowingly, Zack threw the guitarist a mildly dirty look, sighing quietly and taking a huge wad of paper towels and globbing it onto the mess, leaving just that to clean it up. Oh well. Maybe Jack would slip.
No! Zack, no, he’s your friend, stop it! Zack mentally scolded himself, lower lip catching between his teeth. Ugh. The male hated being bitter. It made for too much… stress. Not like he needed any more stress in his late-night, early-morning, always-happy lifestyle.
Sometimes, being a rock star really fucking sucked.
Coffee-less and dead tired, Zack plopped heavily onto his bunk- the one right below Alex’s. It’d been that way for… God only knew how long. Alex above Zack, Jack across from Zack, and Rian above Jack. Almost like a system. A system that, admittedly, was in jeopardy ever since the dream-team got together.
Zack rested his elbows on his knees, propping up his head on his hands at the same time, effectively blocking out the dim sunlight and messy bunk across from him. Footsteps, light and… strangely hesitant approached him. Tensing, Zack silently chanted to himself, Please, please, anyone but Jack, or Alex, please make it Rian, or Matt, anyone but them!
The blonde’s silent prayers went unanswered, sadly, and a thin frame dropped itself down onto Zack’s slightly uncomfortable mattress. “Zack… can I talk to you?”
He had to bite back a moan as Jack’s voice filtered into his head, very reluctantly pulling off of his hands to turn tired brown on the guitarist. “Yeah, sure Jack.” He replied, slightly bitterly. Jack blinked a few times, obviously catching the tone, but brushed it off easily.
“Well… I think I kinda owe you a huge apology. I… You’ve been one of my best friends for a very long time, and… What I did was really fuckin’ shitty. I knew how you felt and… The fact I still went along and asked him out… I didn’t think it would go anywhere, I didn’t have feelings for him at first I just wanted to see what it was like!”
Great. Another Barakat rambling session. But Zack tuned in nonetheless, feeling Jack deserved the attention if he was at least trying to apologize.
“And… Well, Zack, you’re probably one of the best friends anyone could ever have. After all this, you still tolerate me and forgive me. I can’t believe you would, honestly, since I was kind of an A-hole. I know you would never do the same thing to me that I did to you an… I appreciate that more than anything else. So… I guess this is all just one really long, draw-out apology that’s really too far away from the fuck-up.”
Alright. Zack wasn’t totally heartless. In fact, his heart was aching at that moment. Normally, he only ever felt this bad for himself (selfish as it was) about Alex but… Now it was because of his guilty conscious burning the kiss from the night before into his brain.
The guilt only seemed to worsen still as Jack wrapped his long arms around Zack in a hug of sorts- Or whatever Jack liked to call those immature grope-fests that was more a tackle than a hug. But this was, by far, the most serious and truthful Zack had seen Jack in nearly seven months.
“So I guess that’s it, real-“
“Alex kissed me!”