booperdooper

»sick of losing soulmates«

It was young love.

Mark was 15 and Jack himself was a little older than fourteen.

It was freshman year of highschool when they had found each other. It was love at first sight, from the moment that they were assigned partners in English.

They lasted all of freshman year, and through the first few months of sophomore year.

And then it happened.

Jack remembers it clear as day, December 16th. Mark had just told him he had to move to Nashville.

Tomorrow.

It put a stop to their plans to leave for Paris during winter break, but they both quickly agreed to spend the next day together.

His flight would leave at 7pm, and Jack was counting the minutes 'till he left.

That's why he remembers it was exactly 3:43pm when it happened.

"I'll wait for you" Jack whispered.

Mark's head shot up. "You'll what?"

"Wait for you," Jack repeated, "I know that long distance is hard, but I'll wait for you an–"

"I think we should break up"

And just like that the world fell at Jack's feet. "What?"

"I just–I don't think we–I can do it" Jack frowned, "What do you mean you can't do it? You've been doing it for over a year!"

At this Mark shook his head, "And I don't know why I did. I don't know why I led you on, when I didn't really love you."

And as much as Jack wants to be sad, his blood boils, and he's seething. "So you lied? FOR OVER A YEAR?!" And he sees Mark's head hang in shame, but that doesn't stop him.

"Get out!"

And Mark stands up a little too quick and when he's by the door a quiet, "so it's over then?" is heard, and Jack doesn't trust his voice, so he nods his head and turns away. He hears the door close and he doesn't need to read the clock to know it's 4:27.

—

For the next few weeks, Jack's a mess.

His grades are dropping, he's constantly spaced out, and just isn't himself.

His friends grow worried when they see him feverishly write, crumpling and throwing the paper away at times. They didn't dare read what he wrote, wanting him to have his privacy.

What they don't know, is that Jack's writing songs.

Well, one song.

He's trying to get everything just write, but some lyrics that seem fine one day, seem completely unrelated the next. He has all the chords worked out, thanks to the guitar he found in the depths of his closet, and old birthday gift,.

And one day, he's finally finished, and he doesn't know what made him do it, but he felt himself setting up a camera in front of his window.