Jay woke up with a crick in his neck from falling asleep against the door. What the fuck am I doing here? he thought. He got up to take a shower and, as he looked in the mirror, his eyes-still puffy and red from last night's crying fit-reminded him of the events of the previous night.
Oh, right. Nathan's not talking to me. Great. Just fucking great.
Thankfully, the shower washed away some of the redness so that it no longer looked obvious that he had been crying. No use worrying the other lads, regardless of how hungover they are, he thought as he threw on whatever articles of clothing he found in his closet.
Just as Jay opened his bedroom door to grab breakfast, Nathan opened his at the exact same second. Their eyes met and a silent message passed between them-not one word about last night-before Nathan averted his eyes walked away.
"Ugh," Max groaned as he woke up with the worst headache ever.
"Oh good, you're awake," Nathan, who was sitting on the couch across from where he had fallen asleep, said. "Jayne called to remind us that we've got an interview later." His tone was nonchalant, but even a hungover Max could sense that he was occupied, like something was still bothering him.
No use asking him about it now. If Jay couldn't get him to talk- , the fresh wave of pain that tore through his head as he tried to sit up interrupted his train of thought.
"Aww hell, that hurts. Wait, did you say we've got an interview?"
"Yeah, Martin's picking us up after lunch."
"Perfect. Just perfect," Max replied, his voice dripping sarcasm. "By the way, where are the other lads?"
"Tom's right there on the floor; last I checked, Seev was awake but I bet he's fallen asleep in the shower; and Jay-" Nathan's voice caught at his name. Act normal, he chided himself and cleared his throat, "Jay's out buying some pizza."
"Awesome," Max replied before lying back down on the couch. He tried to go slowly, but apparently his body thought he was still moving too quickly and sent a fresh wave of pain through his skull.
"Ouch."
Jay, in fact, had gone out to get pizza. They had barely any edible food left in the flat, and someone had to feed them. Besides, he needed to get out of the house and away from Nathan for a bit; needed the time alone to get his thoughts and feelings in check.
The short walk to the pizza place was strangely uneventful; no paparazzi were around and only a handful of people stopped him to get a picture or an autograph. But maybe that was because he was preoccupied the whole way and couldn't concentrate on anyone, anything but Nathan.
"A large pepperoni and 3 slices vegetarian," he said mechanically to the cashier, whose nametag had a smiley face and the words "I'm David and I'm always happy to serve you" printed on it, mocking Jay with it's cheerfulness.
"That'll be 69 pounds," David replied just as mechanically.
Once he had the pizzas, Jay took his sweet time walking home, even stopping at the local park and sitting on a bench staring into space for what seemed like an eternity.His line of thought went something like this:
I should probably get home now. Pizza's getting cold. But I don't really wanna see you-know-who yet. But the lads will become suspicious and wonder what's happening, won't they? What if they ask for the truth? I mean, the real truth. What would I say then? I can't just say that I love him straight to his face. Yes, you can. But he'd think I'm a freak! You don't know that. Okay, fine, so what if he doesn't? He could never love me back anyway. I'm too much of a brother-slash-best-friend to him. Or at least I used to be. Tell him! I can't.
"You orrite, mate?" asked a man across from him. Jay felt his cheek and discovered that he had inadvertently started crying again.
"Yeah, thanks, I'm fine," he said, mustering up a smile.
"You sure? I could have sworn you were crying." This man was interfering way too much in Jay's personal life for his liking.
"It's nothing, really. But thanks." He stood up and, taking the now-cold pizzas with him, set off towards home. That is, if he could still call it that.
