MELODY

MELODY 43

┏ 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 ┐

Jackson sat in the driver seat before he gestured for Bryan to buckle up. Closing the door next to him, he did just that. The tension between them was thick, and if one were to drag down a knife between it, it would shatter. But Bryan had nothing to say. Not really. Whatever composure he thought he had was now gone, leaving him a bit of a mess with his anger and jealousy. 

They were quiet for a while until he furrowed his eyebrows at the direction Jackson was driving them to.

"Where are we going?" Bryan asked, sitting straighter as they left the area where the studio was.

"Home," Jackson said. "Back to my apartment."

It was a short answer but one that startled Brian. He snapped his gaze at the taller man, opening his mouth for a second before he shut it. A selfish part of him urged him to take the chance to look at where the guitarist stayed. After all, maybe after tonight, he would lose even that tiny chance. At the end, he didn't make another sound as they approached Jackson's apartment building.

Brian had an inkling that the guitarist came from a wealthy family. Especially when they exited the car park and entered the elevator, the atmosphere from the cold, dingy basement transformed into beige-walls and intricate scallop details lining each side of the cuboid space. He pulled the two ends of his hoodie together, waiting until Jackson had gestured him to follow out to the lobby before heading to the eighth floor of the building.

The quiet hallway, walls painted in light blue emitting a calm feeling, had him walking far more carefully than he ever did. It was only when Jackson let him into his apartment, located five doors away from the elevator, that he was able to breathe without breaking the silence. He took in Jackson's apartment. It was spacious with a kitchen immediately after entry on his left. Further inside, there was a large living room with a leather couch and a large screen against the wall greeting him. There were picture frames hanging on the wall, some frames and a plastic cactus pot littered on a small table next to the couch.

While Jackson walked into the kitchen, Bryan took in the space he was in. Nearing one of the picture frames on the wall, his breath hitched in his breath at the picture of a couple and two children in front of them. One of them was Jackson, smiling into the picture. They were a beautiful family. A man taller than Jackson stood next to him in the picture, wearing graduation robes and a scroll in his hand, his other arm tossed over the guitarist's shoulder.

This was Jackson's family.

"Hey," Jackson said, causing him to turn around. They stared at each other for a while before the taller man sighed. "Come on."

He moved to sit on the couch, a clear sign that Bryan should do the same. Taking a seat next to him, his suspicions that it was a soft couch was confirmed. Sinking into it a little, his lips quirked upwards just a second before they died on his face at why they were here.

"I don't want her. Not anymore," Jackson said, turning his body to look at him.

Bryan sat straighter. So, they were going straight into it. He let that sink into his head. "Really?"

"Yes," Jackson said. "I don't love her anymore." He reached to grab Bryan's hand, the warmth of his touch calming his nerves. "Leah. I don't. Not anymore."

He believed him. There was no way he wouldn't believe Jackson. But, that wasn't the problem. "Leah means something to you. I know you've known her for a long time. I know there's no way she's never going to be in your life. I..."