RED LINE [3]

07:00

Madeline Osbourne:

"Can you shut the fuck up?"

I groaned, putting my sunglasses back over my eyes, letting my head rest of the lounge behind me.

Jack was singing loudly to a One Direction song as the plane pulls itself into the air. The hangover I had awoken with was banging onto the front of my head, making it hard for me to listen to the rat strangling itself in front of me.

He ignores me, laughing through some of the lyrics as he continues to bop his head around, tapping his fingers on the table that separated us.

Madeline was sitting across the isle from us, Charlie on her lap looking out the window while she sipped on a bottle of juice.

"Qatar is next week, we're going back to England for a few days for some meetings, so take the time to get some rest but be ready for a phone call," she says, looking between Jack and I who was still mumbling song lyrics, now onto Taylor Swift.

I nod my head.

The plane ride was quite, apart from Madeline ripping into us anytime Jack and I would reminisce the night before, laughing at the way Bailey and Talia had reacted.

"I'm so serious, you two both need to rein your necks in and put your heads down," Madeline scowled us, Jack sinking further into his seat with his hand on his forehead, "a shit headline and it looks bad for everyone on the team, including me," she narrowed her eyes at me as I brought my lips in, nodding my head.

"Can Maddy come and stay with us mummy?" Charlie jumped up and down on the seat in front of her and I couldn't help myself from smiling, her small words helping me from more of an ass whooping.

Madeline looks at her daughter, her gaze softening as Charlie looks across at her mum, the brightest and widest smile on her face while she clutches onto the bear in her hands, "maybe next weekend darling," Madeline replies as Charlie pouts but doesn't protest.

Madeline looks at her with such love, leaning back in her chair to look out the window, her breaths deep as she closes her eyes.

I often found myself looking at her while she didn't notice my stares, admiring how far she had come and what she had gone through to get to where she was now.

I could feel Jack's foot brushing against mine ever so slightly whenever he bounced his knee, there was no one way he didn't notice it either.

I smiled to myself.

He was tapping his fingers on the table between us, bopping his head to another One Direction song no doubt, in a world of his own as we flew over our own.

The sun reflected through his dark blonde hair, his eyes glossy as he peered out the window, looking down at whatever country we were flying over now, ignoring the friction that was happening under the table.

I didn't move, comforted by the subtle touch from him.

"Thank you for last night," I mumbled out to Jack, playing with my fingers as he abruptly stopped singing again. He blinked a few times, maybe wondering if what I was saying was real, the thought making me laugh on my own.

"Don't mention it."

But it wasn't one of those sayings where they said it out of gratitude, I think he genuinely didn't want me to mention it, which pulled at my heart slightly.

I wanted to talk to him, get to know him more – as Madeline had said, we needed to get along, the image we portrayed to the media mattered more than ever after last nights antics. But he was so cold, no matter how hard I had tried to talk to him this morning, boarding the flight. He just didn't seem interested.

I knew there was more to him, the silence he surrounded himself in but the noise that came along with him.

My dad was waiting for me at the airport, having left Sunday evening before everything went very, very south. 

He pulls me into a tight hug, ruffling my hair up while he takes my suitcase from me, "how was the flight?"

I tell him about last night and what had happened, that Madeline and Charles had picked us up and weren't happy about it either.

As we're walking through the automatic doors and into the pickup area, I look behind me one last time at Jack who was looking around the airport, his bags on the floor as he checks his phone again, his face sad.

I had forgotten what he had said to me over the weekend, how he had treated and spoken to me with such harshness, but how he had also stood up for me against Bailey, saving me from a beating from Talia.

"Jack, need a ride?" I call over to him, he looks up with shocked eyes, his mouth opening to protest but as he looks around, there is no one here for him and sadness overtakes his emotions.

He pulls his lips into a thin line, taking in a deep breath as if he were preparing himself for the worst, before nodding his head. I give him a small smile, kind eyes as I let him know without saying a word I wasn't judging him.

He pulls his suitcase over to my dad and I, giving my dad a firm hand shake before loading his baggage into the boot of our car.

"What's your address Jack? We can drop you off, Maddy says you only live the next town over from us," my dad looks into the rear view mirror to smile genuinely at Jack who was looking out the window, the same saddened look on his face.

Jack tells us his address, which was only the next town over from our home in the Cotswolds.

The ride remained at a quiet atmosphere, with conversations only sparking between my dad and I as we recalled the events of the weekend, trying to bring Jack in but he only gave us stiff answers, not wanting to talk.

I could feel him looking at me as I turned my head to watch my dad sing along to the radio, Jack's eyes trailing over my face. I could almost hear the words he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue.

"Thank you."

But those words never came, as much as I wanted to hear them, for him to let down that bully-guard he kept up. I had seen that softer side of him, that caring and compassionate side to his harsh demeaner back on Sunday night when he had stood up for me.

We both knew there was gratitude there, but I wish he vocalised it.

As we crawled down the stoned drive way of his house, I turned to look back at him, my eyes hopeful that he would speak, say anything to ease the hidden words between us.

But as he looked out the front window of the house, the house that looked like no one had been in it for months, the curtains drawn despite it being the afternoon, no lights on or any signs of cars; his eyes flickered that same saddened look.

I wanted to console him.

"Need a hand with your bags Jack?" my dad called back over his shoulder, putting the car in park just as Jack was already hauling himself out the car.

The boot opened, my dad giving me a sympathetic look as I sighed heavily, getting out the car too.

Jack was already half way to the front door, his suitcase swinging to the side as he practically sprinted away.

"Jack wait!" I called out after him, jogging up behind him. I watched from a few feet away as he fumbled in his pocket for the keys, "you can stay with my dad and I if your parents aren't home?" I managed to say as he finally meet my gaze, looking bothered by my presence.

My heart sank a little as I closed my mouth again, knowing it was probably best to leave this interaction where it was, but my throat itched to say more.

"I'll be fine."

I nodded my head, so did he.

He walked into his house; I got back in the car.

He didn't turn around; I watched his back.