Tonight was supposed to be nice. Or at least, it kinda was for the most part.
The Miami air hung thick and heavy, a cloying sweetness that usually invigorated Matt when he came to the state and ended up at numerous nightclubs, multiple girls throwing themselves at him because of the whole tall factor. Tonight, however, it felt suffocating as worry leached into his brain and continued to wrap its chords around him like they were burying themselves under his skin.
He stood backstage at his venue, the bass thrumming through the floorboards, a tangible pre-show energy that should have been infectious but it was currently just noise to him as glanced down at his phone again, the screen illuminating his face in the dim backstage light.
Nothing. Still nothing. No texts, no email, no ridiculous voice note in Alex's signature playful drawl. He himself had sent three voice notes already today, each laced with increasing levels of concern masked in his usual easygoing banter.
The first had been lighthearted, a breezy, "Yo, bbno$, what's good? Just checking in, wanna hear about this wild gator I saw earlier, thing was HUGE. Hit me back, brother."
The second, a few hours later, had a slightly sharper edge, "Alex, man, seriously. Everything alright? Haven't heard from you in a couple days. Just need a quick thumbs up emoji, something. Florida's wild, wish you were here to see this chaos."
The third, sent just an hour ago, was stripped of the usual joking facade, "Dude, Alex. Pick up. Anything. Are you okay? Seriously starting to worry, man."
Silence. A void where Alex's usual presence, matching how chronically online and busy he was, should be. There should be more, a constant stream of memes, music updates, streaming and goofy personal videos. For him to go radio silent and worse, commentary silent for days, was not just unusual, it was alarming.
Matt knew Alex. He knew him a little too well as some of their friends liked to tease. They'd known each other for almost 10 years, so it wasn't exactly untrue. It just meant that he knew when Alex was off kilter, when the undercurrent of anxiety that sometimes rippled beneath Alex's bright, energetic energy was becoming larger and louder than Alex would acknowledge.
Don't get him wrong, Alex constantly put pressure on himself to create, to perform, to be 'bbno$', but he knew the signs. Signs he should have seen long before that were throwing themselves up like red flags now he was pausing to take it all in stock, heart rapidly speeding up as what he missed trickled through his head like syrup.
God, how could he have missed it all? He'd seen glimpses of it before, fleeting shadows that Alex usually managed to shake off with humor and sheer force of will, but what was happening at this moment felt different, heavier, too prolonged to be anywhere close to normal that on one hand, made him feel like he was overreacting and all the other, prickled at Matt's spidey senses that all was not well with his best friend.
He paced the small backstage space, the bass now feeling like a hammer against his skull as he bit his lip, worrying over the small details he'd suddenly pulled up in his brain and finger hovering over the call button, wondering if Alex would even answer. His manager, Dave, popped his head in, eyebrows raised in a silent question. Matt shook his head, forcing a smile. "Just… pre-show jitters, man. You know how it is."
Dave nodded, unconvinced but professional. "Alright, you're on in ten. Crowd's hyped. Gonna be a good one."
Matt managed a thumbs up, but his mind was miles away, thousands of miles away, in Vancouver, where he knew Alex was supposed to be, holed up at his parents' place where he'd been living since he'd sold his apartment a year or so ago. The sick feeling he had was so bad that he played the gig on autopilot, the familiar routine of jumping, rapping, and hyping the crowd a blur. The cheers were distant, the lights too bright, but the energy of the crowd was unable to penetrate the wall of worry that had built up inside him.
This wouldn't do. This wouldn't do at all. Call him a worrier, call him overactive, call him an idiot if you must, but he couldn't sit there any longer.
As soon as the encore ended and the stage lights dimmed, Matt was off. He practically sprinted to his dressing room, grabbing his phone and keys. He dialed Dave's number, as he wouldn't dare go seek him out unless he wanted to make a fool of himself in front of multiple important people, his voice tight as he exited the venue. "Dave, I gotta go."
"Go? Go where? We have a show in Orlando tomorrow night, remember?" Dave sounded exasperated, which he honestly expected as he called up an Uber.
"I know, I know. Something's… wrong with Alex. He's not answering, not online, nothing. I'm going to Vancouver."
Dave sighed, a long-suffering sound that spoke volumes about the unpredictable nature of managing someone as stubborn and pig headed as Matt was when he latched onto something.. "Matt, you have a whole tour scheduled. We can't just… fly to Canada. He's probably just taking a break, recharging."
"Dave, trust me on this. It's not a 'recharge' thing. Something's really wrong. I can get to Vancouver tonight if you get me a flight right the fuck now, check on him, and still be back in time for Orlando tomorrow if everything's okay. If not…" Matt trailed off, unable to articulate the fear that gnawed at him.
There was a pause, then Dave's voice softened slightly. "Okay, okay. Let me see what I can do. But Matt, this better be important. Seriously important."
"It is, Dave." It really is.
The next few hours were a blur of frantic activity.
Dave, surprisingly efficient when motivated by impending disaster, somehow managed to schedule a flight for Matt, placate tour staff and thankfully, keep his belongings safe as Matt found himself on a red-eye flight to Vancouver, the hum of the plane engine a monotonous counterpoint to the frantic hum of anxiety in his mind.
He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, just stared out the window into the black abyss of the night sky, replaying every missed call, every unanswered text, every ghost of worry he'd ever brushed aside about Alex. He just needed to know if his friend was doing okay. They could laugh about later if he was wrong, that was just how they were.
He landed in Vancouver as the sky was beginning to lighten, a pale, watery dawn that did little to lift his spirits as he jumped into another Uber, rattling off Alex's parents' address. He made small talk with the driver, as you know when you wanna be nice and his mother and father raised him to be that way, but it wasn't enough to quell his anxieties, his heart hammering against his ribs as he finally stood in front of the familiar suburban house he'd been to a handful of times, the neat lawn and quiet street feeling a world away.
Taking a deep breath, he walked up to the front door and rang the bell. Silence. He rang again, longer this time. Still nothing. He knew Alex's parents were on a short vacation, a fact Alex had mentioned weeks ago. Which meant… the house was supposed to be empty.
Except, Alex was supposed to be here. Not a good sign.
Time for Plan B.
He rifled around in his carry-on that he managed to snag before he left the venue and pulled out the spare key Alex had given him years ago, a relic from a drunken night and a promise of always having each other's backs. Given his nature, he hesitated for a moment, a wave of guilt washing over him as he felt like he was practically breaking in because of all of this, but the gnawing worry was stronger.
Sunlight dripped in as he opened the door quietly, early morning glow casting shadows on everything as he walked in and shut the door behind himself. The house was quiet, unnervingly so. He stepped inside, calling softly, "Alex? Yo, Gumuchian, you here?"
Silence answered him. He walked past the living room, the familiar furniture draped with a thin layer of dust due to Alex's mother not being here as he moved towards the stairs, his footsteps muffled by the carpet as he automatically knew where he was going. Alex's bedroom was upstairs, the same room Matt had crashed in countless times during their early, broke artist days, fueled by ramen and cheap beer and dreams of making it bigger than Soundcloud giving him something to hold onto as he walked on up.
He didn't have to look too far to find that the door just off the hallway that his fingerprints were still probably on was still there as he remembered it, slightly ajar. He pushed it open gently, before looking around and stepping quietly inside.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn tight, casting the space in a perpetual twilight. Of course, given it was like 5 or something in the morning, Matt didn't expect much.
What he didn't expect however, was to see Alex in bed, facial hair looking like it hadn't been shaved in days and hair like a picked bird's nest, curled up and looking impossibly small, swallowed by the duvet despite his size.
"Alex?" Matt's voice was soft, tentative. He moved closer to the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached out a hand and gently shook Alex's shoulder. "Hey, man, it's me. It's Matt."
Alex didn't move. Matt shook him again, a little harder this time. "Alex, wake up. It's Gravy."
Silence, then there was a sound. The sound of what Matt could only describe as a sob, but nothing like he'd heard before come out of the latter. He was still clearly asleep, but it seemed whatever he was going through was translating into his dreams and while deep down Matt still thinks hems an idiot for doing this, he knows one thing.
He couldn't just leave him like this. Florida be fucking damned, Dave can go ahead and kill him for all he cares.
Without thinking too much, he slipped off his shoes and placed his hoodie nearby somewhere before climbing into bed beside Alex, carefully maneuvering himself behind him. He gently pulled back the covers and curled around his body, arm around his waist like when he stayed over at Matt's place in LA. It seemed the familiar feeling was enough to rouse him as Matt could feel Alex's body tense, head tilting back questionably.
"Hey sleepyhead, it's okay, it's just me," Matt murmured, his voice close to Alex's ear. It took a moment, but then Alex twisted in Matt's arms, turning to face him, his half lidded eyes still sleepy and slit like widening in shock, confusion, and then, recognition.
For a moment, they just stared at each other in the dim light of the room, Matt feeling he was about to get emotional himself as he looked at his friend properly. Alex's face, normally bright, was pale, his eyes shadowed and red-rimmed, the vibrant spark that usually animated his features completely extinguished. His clothes, consisting of a shirt and boxers, were rumpled and stained with what Matt can only assume is a billion things.
What Matt's trying to say, to himself more than anything, is that Alex looked…broken. "…Alex?"
It was him saying his friend's name again that the dam finally broke. All at once, Alex's lower lip trembled, his eyes welled up, and a choked sob escaped his throat. He suddenly crumpled against Matt, almost too fast for the blonde to catch him, burying his face in his chest, his body shaking with the force of his tears.
Matt knew exactly what to do. "Hey, hey it's okay. I'm here. It's going to be okay."
He wrapped his arms around Alex for good measure as he said it, holding him close, letting him cry it out. It almost, sadly, regrettably, reminded him of his Mom when they had lost his Dad, they way she's broken down after he was gone and couldn't do anything for days. He hated being reminded of that time, but he would do anything for Alex so he just held him through it, lips in his hair, murmuring soft, soothing words that he hoped might reach his ears though the dark clouds that were gathered in his head.
He knew he made some amount of progress when Alex's sobs began to subside, slowly, gradually, until they were just quiet sniffles, the white knuckle grip Alex had around his waist softening, but not letting go. He didn't care however, if Alex needed something to ground him, Matt would be that.
When Alex finally pulled back, his face was blotchy and tear-streaked, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that made Matt's heart jump as he looked up at him, gaze lost. "Sorry."
"Man, don't say that shit." It startled him how uncharacteristically soft his voice was when he replied, fingers playing with Alex's gray streak as he circled the skin under it with his thumb. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
Alex folded in on himself in an instant, Matt's hand being the only thing seemingly holding him up. "I just… I couldn't…" He took a shaky breath, voice sounding hoarse and weak. "I don't know, Everything just… stopped feeling real…got too heavy. I couldn't… I couldn't do anything. Didn't want to. Still don't want to."
Matt just listened, tracing small circles around Alex's shoulders with his fingertips, allowing Alex to lean into him, damp cheek pressing against his collarbone "The therapist said I would still have episodes like this, like, every so often but I thought the pills were supposed to make me stop feeling shit. Instead I just feel empty inside and—"
"Like the world is ending when it isn't " Matt finished for him softly, his voice steady as he watched Alex's eyes dart up to meet his, wide and wet and ready to spill over. "It's okay to feel like that, dude. Hell a lot of people feel like that. Even I do sometimes. It's part of being human. Just because you're feeling this way doesn't mean you're failing or that you haven't made progress. You've come a long way you know? A long fucking way. "
He took a moment to let his words sink in, ensuring Alex absorbed it before he spoke again. "You've got friends all over the world who care about you, a banger music catalog, philanthropy shit going on that not many people would do and most importantly. you've got me. I'm not going anywhere. As long as you need someone, I'm here for you." He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Alex's head, lingering there to make sure he could feel the affection and reassurance radiating from him. "You're not alone, man. Far from it."
Silence passed between them for a minute, before Alex managed a shaky pass of air that could be mistaken for a possible laugh if it weren't for the situation. "You could just say outright you wanna get in bed with me, you know." Alex managed to choke out, a weak attempt at a joke. "Instead of saying shit that makes sense to get into my pants."
Matt chuckled softly, relief flickering in his eyes at the small flicker of Alex's usual self. "You couldn't afford me."
"No, no I couldn't, but I'd still try anyway." He tucked his head back into Matt's neck, kissing his jaw and making heat bloom across Matt's cheeks in the dark where he couldn't see them. "Thank you, Matt."
"Anytime." Matt cleared his throat, head dipping to sit back in Alex's hair. "Anytime."