You've Become What I Hate, Sold Yourself For A Bit Of Fame: Chapter Thirty-Four
Summary: Alex has just moved for the last of many times to Dulaney High school. He has decided that this is the year and school that he will try and become "popular" but if that happened would it be a bad thing? And will finding a new friend, that may think of him as more, also affect it?....
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, sadly. Title goes to Bite My Tongue-You Me At Six, Cut goes to All Your Fault-You Me At Six
A/N: At the End
Masterpost
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jack sighed. He loved his mom. He really, really did. But seriously? Did they have to do this so much? It was agonizing.
He looked back up at the giant screen and grimaced at the line that Ryan Gosling had just said,
'If you're a bird, I'm a bird.'
'If you're a bird, I'm a bird'? Like, honestly. What did that even mean? Are they just delusional oooorrrr? Apparently it was supposed to be romantic or something. Psh, romance. What a joke.
He was sitting at the back of a cinema next to his mom. They did this every once in a while, when there was “something good” playing. Those were his mother's words, not his. He never got a say in which film they saw. This meant that they pretty much always saw a heart wrenching, totally sappy, romance film. Or, a chick flick.
Jack could have protested and had thought about it multiple times, he was sure that if he said something, his mom would let him go on his own to see another film. A manlier, more actiony, film. A dick flick, as he liked to call them. But, he had never, not once, told his mom that he didn't want to see a certain film. He never got to spend time with her so he would take any chance he got. Even if that meant simply sitting next to her in the dark and watching something that made him want to be sick.
This time Jack had been dragged into seeing The Notebook. Apparently it was really good and everyone loved it. The Lebanese boy wondered who those statistics had been based on.
He zoned out for a few minutes thinking about nothing in particular. He got bored of this and watched the woman sitting next to him. He liked watching his mom when she watched films, her faced changed dramatically with every little thing that happened, she got so into it. It made him smile, but also made him feel kind of sad. He wished his mom had a Ryan Gosling, or Channing Tatum, or Leonardo DiCaprio of her own. Wow, it was sad that he knew so many actors in romance films.
One time, when he had asked her if she ever felt lonely, she had simply replied with a brief, “Why would I be lonely? I've got you!” And she didn't seem to mind much that her only male companion was her son. He had put it out of his mind, but occasionally, when they were watching films like this, he wondered if she really did feel lonely.
Jack soon got bored of watching his mother as well and glanced back up at the screen for about a second before coming to the decision that he didn't want to watch it. He looked at his cell phone and sighed again. He wished he could at least have it on and be texting Josh or something. The English boy would probably be at a party, but that was fine, drunk texts were amusing. But, when he sat down in the seat his mom had said what she always said to her son the minute they sat down, “Turn off your phone! We don't want to be kicked out!”
The dark haired boy had protested that loads of people had their phones out during the film to which she had briskly replied with, “It's the rules, Jack. Just do it.”
Jack had rolled his eyes and did as she asked. He looked around him now and noted several random glows throughout the theatre. He wondered if they too were guys dragged here against their will. Okay, so he wasn't here against his will, but still, it sounded cooler and more manlier that way.
The Lebanese boy shrunk down into his seat silently hoping that this two hour hell was almost over.
~
'It's a simple task. Do it. Just lift your eyelids. It's not hard, you do it every fucking day.'
Slowly, carefully, for even the tiniest motion made his head pound, he opened his eyes.
His vision was blurry for a moment. It was bright where he was, his eyes had to become accustomed to the change in light. When everything in the room stopped trying to become something other than what it was, Alex was able to see where he was. It confused him though, because this was definitely not his bedroom. And it definitely wasn't Vic's house. So where the fuck was it? And how did he get there?
He looked around him, feeling like he should have instantly recognised this place. He couldn't right away though, he felt horribly tired, exhausted, even though he'd just woke up. He decided to take it slowly and before he figured out how he's got where he was he'd figure out exactly where he was.
'Okay Alex, you got this. Just look around.'
First he saw that the bed he was in had bar type things on the edges (so he didn't fall out?) then he saw that the room was very white (didn't the people here know what a colour was?) then he realised that he wasn't wearing his clothes, he was wearing a dress-like thing (oookay?).
He looked to his left, where he could hear a bunch of beeping noises, and saw a bunch of machines, wires and tubes. One of these tubes was hooked up to his wrist.
The blonde bit his lip in uneasiness, he'd suddenly realised where he was. Oh god, what had happened? He flopped back onto the slightly raised hospital bed and closed his eyes. He desperately tried to remember how he'd ended up there, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. Everything about Vic's party was a big blur and thinking about it too hard made his head hurt.
Finally he sighed and reopened his eyes, if he continued to leave them closed he would fall back asleep for who knows how long, and he didn't want that until he'd got some answers. He looked to his right out of the large window and watched cars go by for a while. After about ten minutes of trying to find as many license plates with a swear and/or dirty word on it as possible, he heard the door to his room open.
The person that walked through the door was someone that Alex had never met. He walked into the room excitedly, as if everything about it was new and wonderful.
When he looked over at the blonde patient he clapped his hands and rubbed them together before yelling, “Ah! You're up! That's good. That's very good! Won't everyone be happy!? Well. Everyone that's here, which, to be honest, isn't that much. But, apparently, Sundays are only for family visits so I suppose that would explain it.”
Alex scrunched his forehead, he didn't think that he'd ever experienced a doctor like this before.
“Um, yeah. I'm awake. Uh, so you're that doctor that's been taking care of me?” It took effort to speak clearly, his voice was scratchy and barely audible and his throat hurt.
“Yes! That's me. I'm the Doctor, by the way! Nice to meet you!” The strange doctor extended his hand excitedly before realising that the blonde had just woken up and probably wouldn't be in a state to extend his own hand, and pulled it back.
Alex scrunched his forehead again, this guy really was weird, “Yes, I know you're the doctor. What's your name?”
The man at the end of the bed smiled again and replied, “Oh, just call me The Doctor, everyone does.”
Alex decided to just go with it. But then he noticed something else that he realised he probably should have noticed right away. “Hey, um...Doctor?” It felt weird calling him that, the Doctor looked at him and nodded for him to continue. “Uh, why are you wearing a fez?”
“Because. Fezzes are cool.”
“Right.” Alex figured that it would probably be best to just stop asking questions.
“Okay, now that you're awake I'm going to go get your family. They'll be right in!”
Then the weird doctor named The Doctor spun around and briskly walked out of the room. His absence made the English boy wonder if maybe he'd just been a hallucination brought on by whatever painkiller was being forced through his veins at the moment.
A minute later two more people were walking through the door of his hospital room. He smiled, finally he was going to get some answers.
“Mom! Dad!” He yelled happily, in greeting. His parents looked back at him worried and even a bit disappointed. Why were they disappointed?
His mom looked at her husband and then they both walked over to their son. She walked to his side and brushed the hair back from his face. “Oh, Alex.” She whispered, sounding like she was on the verge of tears, “Why, love? Why?”
The blonde was confused and a bit scared, “What's going on, mom? Why do you look like you're about to cry? Why am I in a hospital? What happened to me? What's going to happen to me? Am I going to be okay? Am I-”
His rapid barrage of questions was cut off by his father. “Alex. It's-you-” He took a deep breath, looking at the love of his life before looking back at his son and continuing, “You're here because of a drug overdose. A cocaine overdose. You're lucky to have made it with the amount that you took. And you're also very lucky that you weren't actually addicted to the stuff. The doctor said that one or two more intakes and you'd have been hooked for life.”
The blonde was caught off guard, he actually hadn't expected that, but he figured it made sense. He tried to reply, to say something, anything that would ease the minds of his parents, but all he could manage to spit out was a quiet, “Oh.”
He felt horrible. The worst part wasn't the fact that he'd overdosed. The worst part was his parents reactions. They weren't scolding him or yelling or freaking out or anything of the sort. Instead they had just sat there next to him and told him how it was. They were now hugging him and telling him that it was going to be okay, he'd get better. But their words had the opposite affects. They were making guilt spasm through his body in large amounts. But he didn't do anything about it. He didn't tell his parents to get off of him, to leave him alone, he just let them continue on. He owed it to them.
xxxxxx
A/N: This is another one of those chapters where you're all probably reading and thinking “Uh, Holly? This is really confusing and makes no sense.” Well, it made sense to me so I'm posting it. It should have at least got the general gist across, if nothing else. You get another chapter because I am writing this is bed with a fever, but that also means I may be a tad delusional and this could actually make no sense whatsoever. If that is the case, please feel free to comment with any questions or enquiries that you may have! Thank you for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, sadly. Title goes to Bite My Tongue-You Me At Six, Cut goes to All Your Fault-You Me At Six
A/N: At the End
Masterpost
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jack sighed. He loved his mom. He really, really did. But seriously? Did they have to do this so much? It was agonizing.
He looked back up at the giant screen and grimaced at the line that Ryan Gosling had just said,
'If you're a bird, I'm a bird.'
'If you're a bird, I'm a bird'? Like, honestly. What did that even mean? Are they just delusional oooorrrr? Apparently it was supposed to be romantic or something. Psh, romance. What a joke.
He was sitting at the back of a cinema next to his mom. They did this every once in a while, when there was “something good” playing. Those were his mother's words, not his. He never got a say in which film they saw. This meant that they pretty much always saw a heart wrenching, totally sappy, romance film. Or, a chick flick.
Jack could have protested and had thought about it multiple times, he was sure that if he said something, his mom would let him go on his own to see another film. A manlier, more actiony, film. A dick flick, as he liked to call them. But, he had never, not once, told his mom that he didn't want to see a certain film. He never got to spend time with her so he would take any chance he got. Even if that meant simply sitting next to her in the dark and watching something that made him want to be sick.
This time Jack had been dragged into seeing The Notebook. Apparently it was really good and everyone loved it. The Lebanese boy wondered who those statistics had been based on.
He zoned out for a few minutes thinking about nothing in particular. He got bored of this and watched the woman sitting next to him. He liked watching his mom when she watched films, her faced changed dramatically with every little thing that happened, she got so into it. It made him smile, but also made him feel kind of sad. He wished his mom had a Ryan Gosling, or Channing Tatum, or Leonardo DiCaprio of her own. Wow, it was sad that he knew so many actors in romance films.
One time, when he had asked her if she ever felt lonely, she had simply replied with a brief, “Why would I be lonely? I've got you!” And she didn't seem to mind much that her only male companion was her son. He had put it out of his mind, but occasionally, when they were watching films like this, he wondered if she really did feel lonely.
Jack soon got bored of watching his mother as well and glanced back up at the screen for about a second before coming to the decision that he didn't want to watch it. He looked at his cell phone and sighed again. He wished he could at least have it on and be texting Josh or something. The English boy would probably be at a party, but that was fine, drunk texts were amusing. But, when he sat down in the seat his mom had said what she always said to her son the minute they sat down, “Turn off your phone! We don't want to be kicked out!”
The dark haired boy had protested that loads of people had their phones out during the film to which she had briskly replied with, “It's the rules, Jack. Just do it.”
Jack had rolled his eyes and did as she asked. He looked around him now and noted several random glows throughout the theatre. He wondered if they too were guys dragged here against their will. Okay, so he wasn't here against his will, but still, it sounded cooler and more manlier that way.
The Lebanese boy shrunk down into his seat silently hoping that this two hour hell was almost over.
~
'It's a simple task. Do it. Just lift your eyelids. It's not hard, you do it every fucking day.'
Slowly, carefully, for even the tiniest motion made his head pound, he opened his eyes.
His vision was blurry for a moment. It was bright where he was, his eyes had to become accustomed to the change in light. When everything in the room stopped trying to become something other than what it was, Alex was able to see where he was. It confused him though, because this was definitely not his bedroom. And it definitely wasn't Vic's house. So where the fuck was it? And how did he get there?
He looked around him, feeling like he should have instantly recognised this place. He couldn't right away though, he felt horribly tired, exhausted, even though he'd just woke up. He decided to take it slowly and before he figured out how he's got where he was he'd figure out exactly where he was.
'Okay Alex, you got this. Just look around.'
First he saw that the bed he was in had bar type things on the edges (so he didn't fall out?) then he saw that the room was very white (didn't the people here know what a colour was?) then he realised that he wasn't wearing his clothes, he was wearing a dress-like thing (oookay?).
He looked to his left, where he could hear a bunch of beeping noises, and saw a bunch of machines, wires and tubes. One of these tubes was hooked up to his wrist.
The blonde bit his lip in uneasiness, he'd suddenly realised where he was. Oh god, what had happened? He flopped back onto the slightly raised hospital bed and closed his eyes. He desperately tried to remember how he'd ended up there, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. Everything about Vic's party was a big blur and thinking about it too hard made his head hurt.
Finally he sighed and reopened his eyes, if he continued to leave them closed he would fall back asleep for who knows how long, and he didn't want that until he'd got some answers. He looked to his right out of the large window and watched cars go by for a while. After about ten minutes of trying to find as many license plates with a swear and/or dirty word on it as possible, he heard the door to his room open.
The person that walked through the door was someone that Alex had never met. He walked into the room excitedly, as if everything about it was new and wonderful.
When he looked over at the blonde patient he clapped his hands and rubbed them together before yelling, “Ah! You're up! That's good. That's very good! Won't everyone be happy!? Well. Everyone that's here, which, to be honest, isn't that much. But, apparently, Sundays are only for family visits so I suppose that would explain it.”
Alex scrunched his forehead, he didn't think that he'd ever experienced a doctor like this before.
“Um, yeah. I'm awake. Uh, so you're that doctor that's been taking care of me?” It took effort to speak clearly, his voice was scratchy and barely audible and his throat hurt.
“Yes! That's me. I'm the Doctor, by the way! Nice to meet you!” The strange doctor extended his hand excitedly before realising that the blonde had just woken up and probably wouldn't be in a state to extend his own hand, and pulled it back.
Alex scrunched his forehead again, this guy really was weird, “Yes, I know you're the doctor. What's your name?”
The man at the end of the bed smiled again and replied, “Oh, just call me The Doctor, everyone does.”
Alex decided to just go with it. But then he noticed something else that he realised he probably should have noticed right away. “Hey, um...Doctor?” It felt weird calling him that, the Doctor looked at him and nodded for him to continue. “Uh, why are you wearing a fez?”
“Because. Fezzes are cool.”
“Right.” Alex figured that it would probably be best to just stop asking questions.
“Okay, now that you're awake I'm going to go get your family. They'll be right in!”
Then the weird doctor named The Doctor spun around and briskly walked out of the room. His absence made the English boy wonder if maybe he'd just been a hallucination brought on by whatever painkiller was being forced through his veins at the moment.
A minute later two more people were walking through the door of his hospital room. He smiled, finally he was going to get some answers.
“Mom! Dad!” He yelled happily, in greeting. His parents looked back at him worried and even a bit disappointed. Why were they disappointed?
His mom looked at her husband and then they both walked over to their son. She walked to his side and brushed the hair back from his face. “Oh, Alex.” She whispered, sounding like she was on the verge of tears, “Why, love? Why?”
The blonde was confused and a bit scared, “What's going on, mom? Why do you look like you're about to cry? Why am I in a hospital? What happened to me? What's going to happen to me? Am I going to be okay? Am I-”
His rapid barrage of questions was cut off by his father. “Alex. It's-you-” He took a deep breath, looking at the love of his life before looking back at his son and continuing, “You're here because of a drug overdose. A cocaine overdose. You're lucky to have made it with the amount that you took. And you're also very lucky that you weren't actually addicted to the stuff. The doctor said that one or two more intakes and you'd have been hooked for life.”
The blonde was caught off guard, he actually hadn't expected that, but he figured it made sense. He tried to reply, to say something, anything that would ease the minds of his parents, but all he could manage to spit out was a quiet, “Oh.”
He felt horrible. The worst part wasn't the fact that he'd overdosed. The worst part was his parents reactions. They weren't scolding him or yelling or freaking out or anything of the sort. Instead they had just sat there next to him and told him how it was. They were now hugging him and telling him that it was going to be okay, he'd get better. But their words had the opposite affects. They were making guilt spasm through his body in large amounts. But he didn't do anything about it. He didn't tell his parents to get off of him, to leave him alone, he just let them continue on. He owed it to them.
xxxxxx
A/N: This is another one of those chapters where you're all probably reading and thinking “Uh, Holly? This is really confusing and makes no sense.” Well, it made sense to me so I'm posting it. It should have at least got the general gist across, if nothing else. You get another chapter because I am writing this is bed with a fever, but that also means I may be a tad delusional and this could actually make no sense whatsoever. If that is the case, please feel free to comment with any questions or enquiries that you may have! Thank you for reading!