{Zak} I Just Need You Now.

[aubrey rein dechanté]

Texts could be scary things. It was always so hard to ignore a text that sent shivers down your spine and made you want to vomit, and that was exactly the text Aubrey had gotten. It was from Zak, saying he was going to do something stupid, and he was sorry. Aubrey felt his face drain of color, and his original plan of staying home and talking on the phone was quickly disrupted. The boy had to stutter and apology to his friend on the other line and shoved the phone away, springing from his seat with haste. He got on a pair of black and red skinny jeans accompanied with a blue throw over sweatshirt, and then he was gone. He didn’t have a car, so he resorted to running. He ran as fast as he could, darting down street after street, turning corner after corner, looking for this boy. He ran through Times Square, searched all around there for nearly thirty minutes, and then gave up.

The boy darted through Grand Central Station, quickly scoping the area before darting away. He had to find Zak. He had to find out what was wrong, but it was so difficult. It was nearing eleven at night now, and he hadn’t found the boy anywhere. He had left at nine. He didn’t know what was going on, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like the sinking feeling that just seemed to grip at his stomach and tear down and down and down into him; it was making him want to puke, but he still kept going. He pushed into Starbucks, because simply he had a friend there, and moved to talk to her behind the counter. He asked if she had seen Zak, and when he received the expected answer of ‘no’, Aubrey was off again. He ran to central park and searched; it was nearly empty, and it only took the boy about five minutes to completely look over it.

Then he was gone again. His body was giving up on him as he rounded the corner to the empire state building. His body was fatigued, his muscles were aching and he was sweating profusely. Aubrey cursed himself right at this moment. It was his fault that Zak was doing something like this. It was his fault that all of this was happening, and inside he felt scolded by no one other than himself. But he wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t give up, and so he kept running. He pushed his body to its limit over and over again; this was no different. He ran by restaurant after restaurant, café after café; and still no sign. Finally the boy’s eyes rested on a night club. It was nearly twelve at night now, and he figured he was too late; but he still needed to know Zak was okay. And as the boy went to catch his breath, he walked over to the nightclub line, and moved to the back because it was long.

Everything from here is a blur for the boy. He remembers speaking to the bouncer. He remembers pleading, and complaining, and asking for help; but he doesn’t remember what happened after that. The next memory starts in the dark. Pain. Pain was something Aubrey was accustomed to, but he didn’t particularly care for it. He remembers slashes of crimson within the pitch black pain. He remembers blurs flying by his face, getting knocked around a little…but then…then it all from here is simply…simply nothing but void.


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Deep brown eye began to flutter open as a blinding light from above was suddenly brough into the picture. A small, frail looking hand searched over a cream covered, vanilla blanket beneath a bruised and lacerated body, finding that the blanket was folded neatly and tucked in on all sides around the small boy. Ever so gently, nostrils peaked open and a deep breath was taken in; the smell of bleach filled his noise, singing his nostrils from the inside out. It was a sterile scent, and clean sent; and it was sickening. Ever so gently, Aubrey let his tinged red eyes open up some more, and they steadied on the bright light above him for a moment, before he was forced to look away. His vision was blurred for a moment, before his eyes settled on a door at the end of the room.

“007. Dechanté, Aubrey Rein.” Around his name were some odd scribbles of blank ink, but other than that, nothing. He looked around for a moment. Next to him was another bed. In front of him a chair. To his left a window. He let his body gently sit up, but something tugged at his arm. Aubrey felt his eyes widen as he looked at his arm. A pick line. There was a pick line gouged into his creamy white flesh. B-but…how? When? Why didn’t he remember anything? At the bottom of the bed lye a clipboard. Aubrey took it in his hands and began searching through it. Medical term after medical term; there was nothing he could understand, except for a few things.

“Ten Stitches. Right side. Slight Amnesia. Slight Concussion.” Aubrey felt the word gently slip through his lips, his delicate Canadian accent shining through all too much.

“C-concus-sion…? S-stitc-ches…?” He felt tears rim his eyes and spill over as his hands began to tremble with the clip board within them. What happened? What was going on? Why was Aubrey shaking? Why couldn’t he remember anything about last night?

Why did the only things that seemed to keep the boy in-tact were the stitches in his side?

What had happened to Aubrey?

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[zakhery aiden west]

Zak had awoken feeling rough. He was still in his clothes from the night before, only his head wasn’t exactly in the same place. It hurt, like Hell. He could barely open his eyes, the heaviness from his head crushing them shut. He heard his mom shout his name. Again. She’d done it twice, the first time had woken him up, had forced his eyes to open. He’d made it home last night? He couldn’t remember, he couldn’t remember much from last night, only that it was brilliant. The euphoria that had met him once he and Seb had started to party was like no other, and as he remembered the fun he’d had, he couldn’t help but grin. He put his hands through his hair and looked around him. So he was in his bedroom, that ever familiar room that he’d spent so many years in. He couldn’t complain, he planned on spending his entire day in bed, getting over this hell of a hangover. And there was his mom’s voice again. Zak yelled something about how he was coming but it wasn’t true. He was staying in bed. He kicked his boots off from the night before, and wrestled with his jacket. Just as he was crawling under the covers, he heard a knock on his door, which he continued to ignore, only for it to be opened. His mom. She annoyed him at the best of times. ”Mom! I’m ill. I can’t go to school.” Zak groaned, he didn’t even know if it was a school day, and his mom wasn’t that stupid. She didn’t like the fact that he went out but she knew she couldn’t stop him, so her only rule was that if he went out on a school night he’d be at school the night day, hungover or not. But this wasn’t any hangover. It was like he’d been hit with a tonne of bricks. His entire body felt like it was breaking on him, but it was worse it. Granted, he could only remember the good parts of the night, he couldn’t remember getting home, he couldn’t remember vomiting in the toilets, or getting a tattoo on his arm, but he remembered partying, and he remembered feeling invincible. Had Zak been less concerned with getting into bed and getting back asleep, he would have noticed that his mom didn’t wear her usual disapproving face that often met his heavy make up from a night out, or his ‘crash fucking diet’ tee. In fact, she had a look of sympathy on her face, as if she had to break news to him that she’d rather not have to break to her youngest son. Sitting beside him on the bed as he snuggled beneath the covers, struggling to undo the fly of his jeans, she placed a hand on his shoulder. Zak looked up curiously, painfully. He looked a complete mess, as if he’d aged a few years, the bags heavy beneath his smudged make up. He hated forgetting to take his make up off on a night out, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. And that was when she told him, she’d received a phone call that his friend Aubrey was in hospital. He’d been beaten up last night outside of a nightclub. It had taken several moments for Zak to take it in, his mind spinning, but when he finally understood what had happened, a feeling of dread filled his stomach, and he felt sick. He knew that feeling all too well. But he ignored it, and, with help from his mother pulled himself out of bed. He pulled his boots on, accompanied by a the jacket he’d worn last night, and stumbled out of his bedroom, his mom quick on his heel.

He hadn’t expected that she’d drive him to the hospital, he hadn’t expected any of that because usually she wasn’t very supportive. Usually she wouldn’t let him leave the house unless he got rid of the make up, and now, hours old, having survived a night out, smudged and heavy, she was willing to drive him to the hospital to see his friend. All he could think of was how Aubrey had helped him when he’d vomited, how he’d looked after him, and now the poor kid was in hospital. He was too good a kid to be messed up like that, it just wasn’t right. Zak, sipping on a bottle of water which was his only life force, jumped out of the car and ran though the hospital. It took him longer than usual to find the ward, because his head just wasn’t with it and his body wasn’t cooperating. He just felt like lead, it wasn’t right that he be out, but he had to see Aubrey. Several people had stared at him, even glared at him as he’d passed through them. He usually received this much attention, but he supposed he really did look like a drug addicted idiot, being that he’d taken pills last night, and he was skinny and unhealthy looking enough to pull it off.

Spinning round the door of the ward, his heart beat struggling to keep up with his movements, he jumped on the bed of his friend, or rather collapsed. He’d heard that you shouldn’t go on the patients bed, and he supposed he shouldn’t, but he needed a bed or else he’d faint of something. ”Aw, Aubrey, don’t cry,” Zak cooed as he crawled awkwardly on top of the younger boy, his legs straddling his bruised body, though Zak was careful to leave a gap so he didn’t hurt him or anything. He wrapped his arms around Aubrey’s neck and hugged him, awkwardly, but it was the best he could pull off right now. ”What the fuck happened to you? Who did this? I’m gonna go after them with a laser gun and shoot them down!” he insisted, and wiped the tears from Aubrey’s face. He really did feel angry that somebody had done this to his Aubrey, although his head was begging him just to sleep and the water bottle was still glued into his hand.

[aubrey rein dechanté]

He didn’t want to remember any of it. Aubrey didn’t want to know why he was in the plush bed beneath him, and he didn’t want to know why he had stitches running up his side. What had happened? What was going on? Why was he crying? What was all this emotion he had found hidden deep inside himself. He didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t know what was going on anymore, but at this point, he didn’t want to. He wanted to know he was safe. He wanted to know he was all right, but he didn’t think that would be happening any time soon, so he just settled for the uneasy, queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. True he had medicine running through him. True he had all types of antibiotics running through him and all these things that were supposed to help him, yet he felt so vulnerable at the same time. Just sitting there and reading over the clipboard…it was all so difficult to deal with, and he didn’t know why. Aubrey didn’t know a lot of things anymore…but in all honesty; he was okay with it now. He was at peace with all of the things he didn’t know, but there was still…one thing bothering him, as of right now.

Zak had found his way into the bed, and the minute his arms were around Aubrey, he didn’t understand the sudden need to sob and completely fall apart. He let his fingers drop the clipboard from his hand before they flew around Zak, turning him so he was lying in his side, and Aubrey buried his head into the nape of his neck. He felt his body press against the other boy’s, letting his every curve and crease mold perfectly with his. That was when the sob broke free; the violent sob that seemed to rip through his chest like nails through a chalkboards. His body was shaking as he clutched the boy closer, crying into his neck and seeming as if he was trying to suffocate himself. He didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know why he was falling to ruins. He didn’t know any of it, but Zak was here, and that’s all that mattered to him. Zak was hugging him. Zak was taking care of him, and he didn’t care about anything else now. He crushed himself to the boy, spitting out one small sentence before he went quiet and continued to silently cry in the boy’s arm.

“P-please…d-d-don’t g-g-o…”

And then there was nothing but the quaking of his body in the silent room.

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