Crossroads, A Jian Story || Book Two • HIATUS •

1.

Read the Author's Note at the end, and

Enjoy!

•••

No Time Has Passed: Third Person

Jc stared in dismay at the spot where Kian, the boy he loves, just was. He had stormed out, angry at Jc for not being strong enough to face the world with him. His words still rang in Jc's ears, vicious and cruel enough to break Jc's heart into a thousand little pieces.

"I hate you. I always will."

Jc sunk to the floor of the dirty bathroom. He'd found Kian hiding out here after the lanky boy discovered that Jc hasn't posted his Coming Out video, and deleted the whole thing instead.

I'm such a fucking idiot.

Kian's comforting scent, now tainted by the smell of alcohol and the very faint smell of cigarette smoke, lingered in the disgusting bathroom, and Jc couldn't help but wonder how long Kian has been here.

After a few minutes of getting his bearings together and ignoring the pounding on the door, Jc got up and left the bathroom, leaving it to a very drunk man to use. Jc felt utterly useless, and don't forget disgusting. He felt like he was covered in a layer of grime and dirt, so he thanked Dom, his long time friend, for not kicking Kian out and left.

When he got home, he blundered tiredly throughout the house, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep feeling this guilt ridden or this dirty. He took a long, hot shower, but even the steamy water and expensive body wash couldn't wash away the guilt that was eating Jc alive, and that surely ran in his veins.

Jc felt refreshed after the shower, and even though he tried, his mind was too awake to fall asleep now. He walked into Kian's room, hoping relentlessly that the usually-hyper boy would he sitting on his bed, scrolling through Twitter and obsessing over Jian fan accounts, like Jc caught him doing once before.

• Like @ImColorMeJian HAHA jk I have like 2 followers •

But all he saw was a bare mattress and empty closet. When did he take all of his things out? Did he move out, is he really leaving Jc?

This can't be happening.

Jc's mind raced as he sprinted down the long staircase in his home. His and Kian's home. He quickly found his phone, discovered it was dead, and plugged it in. After it was at thirty percent, he unplugged it and frantically called his beloved Kian.

Each time, he was sent to voicemail.

After seventy two calls, Kian finally picked up.

"What?" His voice sounded gruff and flat. Jc pictures his brown hair in a messy quiff, raked back from all of the times Kian ran his hands through it, which was an oddly sexy habit. Just the thought of Kian's face made him want to see him even more.

"Well?" Kian said impatiently. "What do you want?"

"Ki.. I need you." Jc's voice cracked, and he cursed himself for sounding so pathetic and desperate. But that's exactly what he was: desperate. "Please, don't leave me. I love you." He begged, forgetting how prideful he once was.