Street Youth Rising ~Septiplier~

Drunken Heartbreak

I heard Malcolm give a deep sigh and I heard his footsteps come closer. I felt eyes boring into my back and I knew he was hovering over me.

"Jack, I know your not asleep." He blandly stated, waiting.

I gave a heavy sigh before rolling over to face him, silent tears pouring from my eyes.

"You still tore up over him?" Malcolm asked me.

"What do you think?" I snapped, wiping my tears as a sob escaped, "I just miss him so much." I pathetically pulled my brother closer and wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug. I looked like a small child crying into his fathers shirttail (and  I felt like one too) but I couldn't help it. The sorrow in my heart was too much.

He placed his hand on my back, gently rubbing circles into the cloth of my shirt. Something that was supposed to be comforting didn't even soothe me in the slightest. Though I appreciated the effort, but it didn't do anything for me.

Finally, Malcolm pulled back from the hug, looking down at me with sympathetic eyes.

"Listen, little brother, he loves you. He does love you greatly. I've seen it. The way he looks at you. The way his eyes light up at the sight of you. It's endearing." He smiled.

"Then why hasn't he come back?" I softly asked.

"Not all families are accepting, Jack. His parents don't really seem to like it from the way he talked about it this morning. Maybe his family doesn't like the fact that he is gay and that's one of the reasons." Malcolm looked down at me, saying everything slowly as though he were trying to teach a toddler their ABC's - it almost made me feel stupid.

"I need him, Malcolm." I said out of the blue. I know it was somewhat random and almost pathetic, but I need him now more than ever. He wouldn't know it, but I need him.

"Listen, I can't snap my fingers and make him come back. If I could, I would've already done it. But, I'm not a miracle worker." My brother stated. He just sighed.

"You've done all you can. If you love him, you'll wait for him." Malcolm told me, "Now, your still somewhat drunk. Sleep it off." Malcolm told me.

•••

Upon actually waking up, I realised that my man cave was a mess. My sister had been right. Liquor bottles (some of which were busted), a cigarette bud or so in the floor (the ashes also scattered from where I drunkenly tried to calm myself with the toxins and nicotine), the TV was softly on and my T-shirt hung over the edge of it, chip bags in the floor, and my table was flipped over. Damn, I needed to do a cleaning.

I stood up and I involuntarily say back down right away. My head pounded and I groaned. I had a hangover. Just fucking peachy!

I sighed, rubbing my temples in an attempt to ease the throbbing pain in my head. I tried to stand again - and failed. Okay deep breath, Jack.

I stood once again and somehow remained on my feet. I took it slowly, walking my way to the staircase. Step by step, breath by breath, I made my way upstairs and into the kitchen.

"Hello, Jack." My mother greeted. I put on my best face and smiled at her. She cocked an eyebrow at me, "you don't have to hide the hangover."

"How did you know?" I asked, dropping the act and rubbing my temples again.

"I'm a mother. It's my instincts," she paused for a moment, grabbing a bottle of medicine, "and your sister told me."

She gave me a smile - one that almost warmed my heart - then she handed me the pill bottle and patted my shoulder.

"Take some and then rest. Eat you some food, drink some water, take a shower. Sober up, my child. Then - if you want to," she added so I didn't feel pressured, "we can talk about this."

"That's the thing, Ma," I told her, "it hurts so bad I almost don't want to talk about it, but it also feels like I need to get it off my chest."

"Just whatever you decide, dear." She said to me. She then turned and went into the living room.

I felt happy to have the warmth and love of my mother in moments like these. It meant everything to me to have someone who cared enough to talk. I used to be a I-don't-want-to-talk-leave-me-the-fuck-alone kind of person. Now, it's like I have to talk about it (before I spontaneously combust) or it gets on my nerves and eats at me.

Looking down at the little bottle of medicine I wondered if it was really a good idea to take these with alcohol on my stomach. So, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and chugged it. Then I grabbed another just to carry around and sip on after the medicine made its way into my system. I finally decided it was time to take the medicine (thanks to my headache getting so much worse). I picked up the tiny bottle and groaned when I poured out over half the bottle trying to only take two. I just stared at the pills in my hand. Over twenty of them, I reckon. I finally scolded myself before putting all but the two I needed back into the bottle. I sighed and shook my head, popping the medicine in my mouth before taking a drink.

Mark... He's changed me.

He's made me a different person. Softer on the words. Kinder in the eyes. Warmer in the heart. He has changed me more than anyone will ever know.

And I hate it.

I hate the fact that I've changed in such a little amount of time for some boy who just popped up out of nowhere and knocked my books out of my hands. All he had to do was make me hate him just so I could start to really love him - but he left me.

He left me here with a blaring headache and a numbing sensation in my stomach (due to the capacious amounts of liquor I had drank only a few hours before).

As I went back downstairs to let the medicine and the headache settle, I thought only one thing:

Maybe I should try to live without him.

-------
It's ya boy Sam! I just got wifi back on my birthday (June 4th) and I shall now be trying to update more for you guys.

I'm going to try and get back on a regular schedule. This means I will be posting one or two chapters every Monday unless I'm like CrankGameplays (Ethan) and end up posting almost a month late (IM JUST JOKING DONT HATE ME).

----NEW NATEWANTSTOBATTLE FANFIC IS OUT: Fake// Natewantstobattle ----

Love you guys and I'll see you next time.

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-Samuel