2:55 AM.
Double tapping on the black screen, you read the time stamped in the bold white font, 2:55 AM. It was ironic because your lock-screen was a picture of you and Jack holding up the champion's league trophy, in a loving side-embrace.
There was not a sliver of loving in your body, right now, as you sat in your pyjamas waiting on your boyfriend to get back from the club.
No, before you ask, you were not one of those girlfriends who were insecure. Jack was allowed to do whatever he wanted, for Pete's sake, he was a grown-ass man. If he wanted to go clubbing with his mates, then by all means, go and have fun! No one was or would be stopping him. However, it does come to a point of concern when that turns into an almost every-night clubbing and hanging out with the guys during the day situation.
It leaves a pang in your heart that you hardly ever see your boyfriend anymore.
"Hey, Jack. I'm worried because I haven't heard from you in a while. Please call me back when you get the chance, love you!" Trying his cell once again, all you got was the voice-call bot and recorded your 15th message.
It was irking you, eating at you, just sitting there and doing nothing so you got up and boiled a kettle. Maybe, the chamomile tea that Jack got you would help calm you down. Stirring the tea and hearing the spoon slide against the inside of the porcelain, it had put you in a momentary trance.
The door opening, however, hauled you from the small black-out and you peeled your head around the corner.
Jack sluggishly threw his keys in the bowl and sloppily hung his coat on the rack. His feet were unsteady and helped his movements by balancing his hands against the wall.
He was drunk. Again.
"Jack?" Calling his name softly, his head snapped up to you as he continued his drunken tirade.
"Y/N!"
He exclaimed loudly as he whooshed up close to you, breath smelling of alcohol making you hitch up your nose in mild disgust. Sloppily kissing the side of your mouth in greeting, he held onto various kitchen objects as that was his next destination.
"Jack?" You sighed.
Folding your arms, you peeped Jack taking a sip from your tea, pulling a face as the warm liquid, most likely, burned his tongue.
Jack drunk was like a completely different person, all sense disappearing and only alcohol on the brain.
"Jack."
Finally, he faced you but it seemed as if he was struggling to focus on you. His eyes moving in all kinds of crazy directions, up and down and side-ways, but never to yours.
"Hello, love, how are you? How's your day been?"
His slurring making his Brummie accent thicker and more difficult to understand. Jack's dopey smile would've had you caving in, long ago, if you weren't on a mission to straighten things out.
It's sad that your mood was not matching his, for once.
Jack frowned when he got no response. "Y/N, is everything okay?"
"No. I think there's something we need to talk about, seriously."
The stern tone of your voice sobered your boyfriend right up as he led you to the dining table and sat down. Albeit, Jack was still stroll with his motor functions — alcohol was truly the enemy and a bitch.
"Lately..." You started off, folding your hands, and staring straight into his puppy dog eyes. "...I've barely seen you around the house. I don't care if you go clubbing or to parties with your friends but staying at home with me, once in while, wouldn't be so bad."
Jack had this incredulous look on his face. It took him quite some time to get there, but, that was his final expression.
"Is this what you wanted to speak to me about? Come on, be serious, Y/N. I thought it was more urgent than this." He said.
A pout formed on your lips as you registered your boyfriends words, were you perhaps being selfish? Did this need to be such a big discussion or were you blowing things out of proportion? All of these were questions you asked yourself, almost dropping the subject but you stopped yourself.
"Jack." Stopping him from walking away, you grabbed onto his hand.
Looking up at your towering boyfriend, he had a foolish smile on his face but his eyes were devoid of emotion. It was scary. You hadn't seen Jack like this, ever.
"Please, can we talk about this?" You begged.
All emotion was now removed from his face as he blinked slowly, watching you, making your skin crawl, "No. Because there's nothing to talk about."
"I'm not dividing my time between my friends and you. I spend time with them, and I spend time with you when I want to. What problem could there be?"
The gulp could be heard in the quiet room as you spoke, "You never spend time with me anymore, Jack."
He scoffed and forced his hand out of your grip. "So that's what it is. You want to cling to me whenever you can, stopping me from seeing my friends—"
"That's not what I said." You whispered, relinquishing your defiant attitude you had earlier, just wanting Jack to understand where you were coming from.
But drunk people were hard to deal with. "—stopping me from having fun, the time of my life all because you miss me? Don't make me laugh."
Jack didn't need to raise his voice because the soft and unbelievable kind was far more threatening than an increase in volume. He was breathing heavily, you could make out, as he stood mere inches from your pyjama-clad legs.
"But I do miss you." You said, looking up at him once again. Jack scoffed before walking out, and towards the kitchen.
If you had knew it was going to turn out like this, you would've never brought up the subject.
But, your stubbornness also didn't allow you to back down. So, you traced his footsteps and saw him standing with his back facing the counter, knuckles white from gripping onto the edge with so much strength.
"Y/N, don't start again please. I came home in a good mood and I don't want you ruining it with this bullshit." He said.
That was it. There was no coming back from this now.
"Bullshit? Bullshit?" You repeated, in anger, glaring at Jack. "How the fuck is me saying I miss you — to my boyfriend — bullshit?"
"Because you want to use that as a way to guilt-trip me into spending more time with you."
Out of frustration, you made a sound mimicking disbelief. "Not that I am but I shouldn't be guilt-tripping you into spending more time with your girlfriend, you asshole."
Jack fake-laughed as he turned to you, "I'm the asshole? I'm the asshole?"
"Yes, Jack. No matter how many times you ask, the answer is going to be yes."
"Well then why are you with this asshole? Surely, you could've found someone better. But then again, they wouldn't have had the status that I do right?"
Jack's words tore at your beating heart as tears prickled in the corners of your eyes but, still, you refused to give up. "What are you insinuating? That I'm with you because of your fame and wealth?"
"Yes!" Jack yelled and it honestly frightened you. His face was now contorted into anger as he stood, pointing fingers in your direction. "That's exactly what I'm saying. I should've listened to my mates when they said you were a gold-digger."
"Gold-digger?" You whispered, before, the tears finally started falling.
Jack's heaving chest began to steady but looking at you, he realised just how much damage he had caused.
There you stood, fists clenched and shoulders broad but, still, the look of betrayal and heart-break evident in your eyes. It took a few seconds for your head to slump down and your shoulders to shake, shaky sobs escaping your mouth.
"Y/N..." Jack tried to coax but it was little too late.
All you could was shake your head - that felt like the only body part you could move. The rest of your body went cold and numb when Jack accused you of being a "gold-digger."
Clearly, now, you had understood your place in this relationship, your place next to him and your place compared to his friends.
"Okay..." You mumbled, cracked voice and all. "...I understand, yeah, I understand."