ROADTRIP || ships and shit (oneshots)

JACKLYN || I'm not going anywhere *2*

|| I'm not going anywhere ||

Make sure you have read the first one: "He wasn't going anywhere".

This may or may not make sense but I don't make sense so,

Enjoy.

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Three years ago...

When you're struggling, it is important to keep fighting.

That is what Jack tries to convince himself of. Even in his darkest of times, it is important for him to keep fighting. Keep fighting the urges, the thoughts and sleepless nights. Every single thought running through his head, he needs to remember to not fall into the trap of letting those thoughts control him. He needs to know that they are not the ones in control, that he is.

But its difficult, when you feel like they are ninety-nine percent true. When every thought that has come across has been etched into your brain, like a carving in stone. Always picking at you like a mother who isn't happy with the way her daughter is living her life. But that one percent, that one percent, you have to try and use it for the fight.

Jack had been struggling for most of his life, but he's still here. That one percent has somehow kept him alive, life keeps throwing things at him yet he's still alive. Even though he is dying inside.

At this point in time he was trialing for a boyband called 'Roadtrip'. The next few months will allow him to know what kind of future he will have and that puts pressure on him. Because not only is he fighting for his sanity, but he's also fighting for his dream. And as much as he wants to lie and pretend he is fine, he cannot. Those negative thoughts consuming him every day and as time ticks away, he tries his hardest to pretend a smile or laugh, just so he can get his dream.

He was alone in the small apartment, the rest going out for different reasons. He thought that maybe he can stay home and just sort himself out. Sort all the messy piles of thoughts in his mind and just collect himself, and get himself ready for the next step.

He sat on the edge of the bottom bunk, clutching his head, trying to make sense of what was happening. And even though it seems to be a hard task, he gets through it. Even if he had to shed a tear or five, he got through the pain of walking down the halls of his mind, scanning every thought and comment on every inch of the walls. Seeing all the pain, sorrow and damage that has been caused.

He couldn't stop the tears anymore and so as he thought he was alone, he had decided to just silent scream. Not an audible scream, no that would cause more pain. But a silent one, he just simply opened his mouth wide as possible and acted as if he was screaming. This was an action he had done many times before, it had brought some kind of relief, even if he knew that an audible one would do so much more. He still did a silent one.

But as he now clutched onto the edge of the bed with his hands and 'screamed' into the air, he didn't know that one of his soon to be bandmates was standing right in the door way of their shared bedroom. He just stood there, with concern, worry, feer and also weirdly enough understanding. He couldn't move as he saw his new found friend breaking down right in front of his eyes. He didn't know what to do, he was only a teen and he hadn't gone through all of the procedures.

So, he just stood there, not saying a word. Jack dropped his head to his chest in utter exhaust, trying to ignore the tightness around his heart. The band mate standing in the doorway had decided to move now, though he still didn't make a word come out through his lips. He walked forward and softly and cautiously sat down next to the broken boy.