Fragile // Sequel to Torn

43. |

// Jakob's point of view //

So much hate. I don't even read the good and supportive comments, even though I'm the one who asked for them. The fandom is in total meltdown. The fans that are actually supportive and are still here for us are now in fights with people they used to call their best friends. It hurts me more when I see internet friends breaking up because I've seen how special they are to each other. It used to warm my heart knowing we, as a band, were able to introduce our fans to one another. But now I'm causing so many fights and breakups it's killing me. I don't know what to do.

George hasn't texted me back since I went to see him and found he wasn't there. It's been two days. Have I done something wrong? That's all I've been seeming to do lately. Why am I messing up everything and disappointing everyone? I never meant to be this much of a fuck up. Where did I go wrong?

"Morning, sunshine." I hear a joking voice. My door opens and Ethan comes into my room.

"Mmm." I groan sleepily, pulling the covers over my head. I don't want to get up. I mean, I've barely been sleeping because there's been so much on my mind.

"Come on, we need to go grocery shopping." He tells me.

"Please lay with me," I say sleepily, not wanting to wake up too much. "Half an hour at the most."

With a sigh, Ethan pulls back the covers and climbs in next to me. As much as I promise myself I'll keep my problems away from him, he's always going to be part of the solution. I'm fully aware I'll sleep like a baby now he's laying next to me.

"Are you okay, though? Just tired?" He asks quietly, running a hand through my hair softly.

"Just tired."

I do sleep, and for more than half an hour. Ethan stayed beside me the entire time- unless he moved but came back- and I feel a bit better. I wish I could just stay here forever with him in my arms. It's times like these that I don't feel sad at all. As soon as I get up, the pressure will hit again. It's all just getting a little too much. I'll be okay, though, I always am.

// Chris' point of view //

I decide I have no choice but to wake the boys up. It's now lunch time and we have things to do today. To my surprise, they get up without any objections. I go back downstairs and open the fridge. Since we haven't been shopping yet, the fridge is almost empty. I gather everything I can find and lay it out on the bench, knowing exactly what I have to make: sandwiches.

Ethan and Jakob come down the stairs ten minutes later. They walk into the kitchen without saying much, watching as I place the third sandwich onto its plate.

"Etho, do you want one or two?" I ask, knowing he doesn't usually eat as much as the rest of us.

"Um, one please." He replies.

"Yeah, me too." Jakob adds.

"Oh," I say, realising. "I've already made you two."

I can't help but notice his face drop slightly. Something changes in his eyes as he nods, smiling half heartedly as he takes his plate. Maybe this can help me decide whether what I saw is true? I hate thinking like this. But still, I watch as Jakob walks away with his two sandwiches.

I was really thinking I was wrong. A full ten minutes has passed since Jakob finished eating and he hasn't moved. He's been looking at the ground though, his arms resting over his stomach. Then he stands up and excuses himself. I close my eyes, feeling my heart sink.

I give it a minute before I make an excuse to go upstairs. My heart thumps in my chest as I stand outside the bathroom door, listening. He's definitely throwing up. What am I going to do?

•••

I've managed to put off any questions the entire day. I don't know if Ethan knows and I don't want to make it worse. So many thoughts are going around my head. What the hell did that comment on Ethan's post mean? I know I need to ask but I don't know when or how.

"I'm heading to bed." I announce. I've been feeling sick and I honesty just want to sleep it off.

Jakob and Ethan both mumble goodbyes and I trudge upstairs, sneezing twice. I climb into bed without even bothering to change my clothes and fall asleep within minutes.

•••

It's 2:30am when I wake up feeling even worse than I did when I went to bed. I'm definitely in need of some kind of medicine right now. I quietly climb out of bed and pull on a jumper, making my way out into the hallway. The stairs are cold beneath my bare feet as I find my way through the dark to the kitchen. I switch on a light, finding a clean cup and filling it with water. After a quick rummage around in the medicine cabinet, I find what I'm looking for. I quickly take the pill and place the cup down. As I switch off the light and am about to head back up to bed, I hear a noise. It sounds like movement and it's coming from the lounge room.

"Eth0? Jake?" I ask into the dark, trying not to feel scared.

"Yeah." I hear a voice come back. It's Jakob.

"What are you still doing u-?" I start, stopping myself short when I see him. He's sitting against the couch, his phone in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. His cheeks are tear stained and his hair is messy. He answers anyway.

"I'm playing a game, you see. Every time I read a comment that upsets me, I drink."

"Jakob," I start, having to stop again as I see the three other empty bottles laying next to him. "Do you want to talk?"

"I've done fine keeping everything to myself so far." Jakob cries. I'm well aware he's drunk but hopefully that means he'll tell me what's going on.

"Why do you throw up your meals?" I ask straight out.

"I-I don't." He stutters, closing his eyes as he takes another sip of alcohol.

"That's enough of that," I sigh, reaching forward and taking the beer from his left hand and his phone from his right I place them behind me as I sit down next to him. "Don't lie to me; I've seen you. I'm going to ask again: why do you throw up your meals?

"Because I hate myself."

"When did this start happening?" I have to ask, my chest tightening.

"A few weeks before the show." Jakob tells me, covering his mouth with his right hand. The tears fall steadily down his cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I can't. I'm ashamed of it, okay? I'm so sorry I don't look like you or Ethan. I'm so sorry my vocals don't match yours and that I'm bisexual. I love Ethan but he's ruined my life- just like I've ruined his. I'm not ruining any more of such a precious persons life with my problems." He suddenly lets it all out, turning to look at me.

"You can't think that, okay? You're not fat and your vocals are amazing. You being bisexual has done nothing but make things better! As for you and Ethan, you just need to learn to trust one another. He loves you so much and I know you love him like that too. You're not ruining his life, I promise." I try my best to give advice, but knowing he may wake up and not remember any of it is getting to me. He needs to know it.

"I'm such a mess. For fucks sake, I promised Ethan I'd get help with my anger and I haven't even made an appointment. I'm so fucking scared I'm going to hurt someone more than I hurt him." Jakob tells me. I don't really know what to say to this.

"I'll help you," I start. It's like a weight is sitting on my chest, and I can't rid myself of it until I convince Jake of at least one thing here. "You shouldn't be scared. It's going to be okay."

"I wish that was true, Chris." He mutters, barely above a whisper. And so do I.