Categories > Original > Drama > Pull yourself together!
“'I'll see you in my dreams,” Alex Gaskarth sang into the microphone before hearing his voice crack. He looked down, focusing on a stain on the burgundy carpet before closing his dark brown eyes. Opening them once again, he stared straight into the eyes of Matthew Flyzik through the glass window that separated them. “Sh.it, um, can we take, uh, a five-minute break?”
Matthew, likely to be known as Matt or ‘Mickey Freak’, nods his head in silence as Alexander bolts out of the small recording area. He walks quickly through the small room, moving through the people in the room who gave him sympathetic and worry filled looks. Alexander moved past his best friends, who all moved their feet so he could move towards the exit door.
Alex opened the door, moving quickly down the long hallway of Valencia Studios. The sign on the door, reading ‘Men’s Bathroom’ in bold print, made him sigh with relief. He needed the escape, even if it was only for a few minutes. Grabbing the navy blue backpack that sat beside the bathroom door, Alexander made his way into the bathroom.
Some things he noticed were that it smelled like smoke, there were stray pieces of toilet paper strewn across the white tile of the floor, and there was a spider crawling on the wall. Alex moved towards the sink. He set the backpack in the sink after making sure the bottom of it wasn’t wet from the faucet. He unzipped the bag, a small smile and a glint in his eyes as he saw what was in there.
Alex had packed the backpack early this morning, knowing that today they were recording a specific song that he was not too pleased with. Well, he thought it was a beautiful song and was glad that he was able to express his emotions through music; he just didn’t want to be recording the song on that specific day. Not on the day his brother died.
The four bottles of Vodka lie in the open backpack, screaming at Alex to drink them. He hesitantly reached out, his hands softly touching the top of the bottle. There was that nagging in his head again, telling him not to pop open the bottle, tilt his head back, bring the bottle to his lips and drink the alcohol. Telling him not to take all of his problems out on liquor. But Alex knew no other ways to clear the pain away, make it all stop for at least five to ten minutes.
Alex twisted the top off of the first bottle, popped off the top, and brought to bottle to his closed lips. The quivering lips slowly opened and Alex tipped his head back, feeling the bottle move with him. The rush of the cold liquor made him squirm a little bit, but he stood his ground, wanting to forget everything.
The liquid kept on going down Alexander’s throat, and soon he couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed the bottle down on the sink, watching as if it was a movie put in slow-motion. At first it was a small crack, but then it spread across the whole bottle and it fell into a million little pieces of glass.
He swore quietly to himself, looking at the mess he had made. The bottle was empty – he had finished out the whole thing. Alex looked for something to clean up his mess, but then decided not to. Why even bother? He moved slowly around the shattered glass, not wanting to have a small piece of it shoved into the bottom of his foot. Once safely around the glass, he moved so he back was facing the wall. Slowly sliding down, Alex landed with his butt on the floor and his legs pulled up to his chest.
Alex breathed out slowly, puffing his cheeks. He looked down at one of the larger pieces of glass. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. He held it up to his eye, looking through it. Everything looked different, like looking through a kaleidoscope. Everything was the same color as it had been, but it looked so much different.
At that moment the door to the men’s bathroom burst open, making Alex jump slightly. While accidentally jumping, he managed to move the piece of glass so it scraped over his left eyebrow, causing a rush of blood to come down onto his eyelid. He quickly closed his left eye, feeling the blood slowly move down his cheek and touch his chapped lips.
With his right eye, he looked up at the girl who had opened the door – yes, it was a girl, opening a men’s bathroom door. She had long brown hair, the color of melted chocolate, with light brown eyes and naturally tan skin. She stood a few inches shorter than Alex himself, with a plain blue, v-neck shirt and dark wash jeans on. She had no shoes, just brightly colored socks.
“Um, hi,” Alex says hesitantly, slowly standing up and knowing that he looked like an idiot with blood running down his neck, only one eye open.
“Hi,” The mystery girl says, and that was when Alex knew. He knew that he had died and gone to heaven, and was now talking to the most heavenly angel there is. But of course this wasn’t real, because he was standing in front of this beautiful girl with blood running down from his left eyebrow. The blood slowly darkened a spot on his shirt where it steadily fell. And right then he knew, was one hundred percent sure, that he looked like a complete and total idiot.
Matthew, likely to be known as Matt or ‘Mickey Freak’, nods his head in silence as Alexander bolts out of the small recording area. He walks quickly through the small room, moving through the people in the room who gave him sympathetic and worry filled looks. Alexander moved past his best friends, who all moved their feet so he could move towards the exit door.
Alex opened the door, moving quickly down the long hallway of Valencia Studios. The sign on the door, reading ‘Men’s Bathroom’ in bold print, made him sigh with relief. He needed the escape, even if it was only for a few minutes. Grabbing the navy blue backpack that sat beside the bathroom door, Alexander made his way into the bathroom.
Some things he noticed were that it smelled like smoke, there were stray pieces of toilet paper strewn across the white tile of the floor, and there was a spider crawling on the wall. Alex moved towards the sink. He set the backpack in the sink after making sure the bottom of it wasn’t wet from the faucet. He unzipped the bag, a small smile and a glint in his eyes as he saw what was in there.
Alex had packed the backpack early this morning, knowing that today they were recording a specific song that he was not too pleased with. Well, he thought it was a beautiful song and was glad that he was able to express his emotions through music; he just didn’t want to be recording the song on that specific day. Not on the day his brother died.
The four bottles of Vodka lie in the open backpack, screaming at Alex to drink them. He hesitantly reached out, his hands softly touching the top of the bottle. There was that nagging in his head again, telling him not to pop open the bottle, tilt his head back, bring the bottle to his lips and drink the alcohol. Telling him not to take all of his problems out on liquor. But Alex knew no other ways to clear the pain away, make it all stop for at least five to ten minutes.
Alex twisted the top off of the first bottle, popped off the top, and brought to bottle to his closed lips. The quivering lips slowly opened and Alex tipped his head back, feeling the bottle move with him. The rush of the cold liquor made him squirm a little bit, but he stood his ground, wanting to forget everything.
The liquid kept on going down Alexander’s throat, and soon he couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed the bottle down on the sink, watching as if it was a movie put in slow-motion. At first it was a small crack, but then it spread across the whole bottle and it fell into a million little pieces of glass.
He swore quietly to himself, looking at the mess he had made. The bottle was empty – he had finished out the whole thing. Alex looked for something to clean up his mess, but then decided not to. Why even bother? He moved slowly around the shattered glass, not wanting to have a small piece of it shoved into the bottom of his foot. Once safely around the glass, he moved so he back was facing the wall. Slowly sliding down, Alex landed with his butt on the floor and his legs pulled up to his chest.
Alex breathed out slowly, puffing his cheeks. He looked down at one of the larger pieces of glass. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. He held it up to his eye, looking through it. Everything looked different, like looking through a kaleidoscope. Everything was the same color as it had been, but it looked so much different.
At that moment the door to the men’s bathroom burst open, making Alex jump slightly. While accidentally jumping, he managed to move the piece of glass so it scraped over his left eyebrow, causing a rush of blood to come down onto his eyelid. He quickly closed his left eye, feeling the blood slowly move down his cheek and touch his chapped lips.
With his right eye, he looked up at the girl who had opened the door – yes, it was a girl, opening a men’s bathroom door. She had long brown hair, the color of melted chocolate, with light brown eyes and naturally tan skin. She stood a few inches shorter than Alex himself, with a plain blue, v-neck shirt and dark wash jeans on. She had no shoes, just brightly colored socks.
“Um, hi,” Alex says hesitantly, slowly standing up and knowing that he looked like an idiot with blood running down his neck, only one eye open.
“Hi,” The mystery girl says, and that was when Alex knew. He knew that he had died and gone to heaven, and was now talking to the most heavenly angel there is. But of course this wasn’t real, because he was standing in front of this beautiful girl with blood running down from his left eyebrow. The blood slowly darkened a spot on his shirt where it steadily fell. And right then he knew, was one hundred percent sure, that he looked like a complete and total idiot.
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