Breaking J.A.C.I.E. (All Time Low Fanfiction | Jack Barakat)

Day 6: Serotonin

The front door of the cabin clicked shut and I saw Jack walking out to the car through the window. He got into the driver's seat and a minute later, he was backing out onto the road. The cabin felt even quieter without him close by. But it was good to get a moment to ourselves as well. It wasn't like he wouldn't be back. He was just getting us some more groceries for the second half of our stay. We made a list together, but I decided to stay behind.

All alone in the cabin, I wandered around, unsure what to do with my time. The space held a mixture of memories, painful and hopeful. The dining table was the place I took my ring off, but it was also where Jack first started opening up. We sat on the couch for many of our conversations, the sad and promising ones. Even the bathroom floor had a memory attached to it.

Eventually, my eyes fell on a notebook on the coffee table. I recognised the binding as a notebook I had once given Jack to write down his song ideas into. It was open to a page with handwriting scribbled on it. The pen was even still resting between the pages. I could only guess he was working on something while I was taking a shower.

I knew I should probably leave it be, that it was practically like Jack's personal diary. But my intrigue was much too strong. I walked up to it and dropped down onto the couch as I picked it up. Jack's handwriting was scrawled all over the page. Words were crossed out, others written next to it. Some words were hard to read while others were jotted down with more care.

Despite the page simply containing a haphazard plan of an idea, I could still make out what it was about. The words painted a raw and vulnerable portrait of his struggles. It was a confession about recognising that he was a mess, but that he was struggling to let me in. It broke my heart to see him compare himself to a rainy day.

A surge of inspiration coursed through me once I read an unfinished line with a list of words that could rhyme with the ending of an earlier line. There was a word in my mind that wasn't on the list yet, one that could perfectly reflect the way we were aching for some positivity.

I bit my lips as I contemplated what to do. A melody was already swirling around in my head. I didn't know what Jack wanted to do with these words, but I also knew it would keep gnawing at me if I didn't at least try to make my ideas audible. Before I could rationalise myself out of it, I brought the notebook with me to the keyboard we had set up against the wall.

My fingers grazed the keys, finding the note I wanted to start with. As soon as I heard the one I was looking for, the rest of the tune was automatically played by my hands. It matched the feeling of being lost so well. I started singing some of the grouped up lines over the chords, adding in my own pain and experiences.

The music flowed effortlessly, a collaboration of emotions merging into a song. I started to completely lose track of time, scribbling down extra words and moving things around. The process almost became cathartic, as if it was something that finally let me connect to Jack on a deeper level.

"Hey." The door creaked open two hours later, announcing Jack's return.

"Oh, hey." I pulled my hands away from the keyboard before I was able to finish playing, my eyes falling on the plastic bags in Jack's hands. "Need some help?"

"No, it's just these two bags." He shook his head as he pushed the door closed and stood behind me. "What are you working on?"

I hesitated, the reality of what I did settling in. "I found what you were writing..."

"Oh."

"I know I shouldn't have looked," I apologised, turning around to meet his gaze. "I promise I just looked at this page, nothing else."

He sighed softly, his eyes falling on the notebook and the edits I had made on the page. Without another word, he continued towards the kitchen and put the two bags on the counter. The guilt settled in, beating me up for not being able to control myself. This urge to just find out the way he was feeling and what he was thinking was controlling me. I needed to keep myself in check.

"Can I hear it?" he asked, his curiosity tinged with a touch of apprehension.

I looked at him in surprise. I was fully expecting him to be upset, annoyed that I'd go through his personal stuff like that. Especially after he struggled so much to open himself up to me. I thought I was forcing him to share a secret.

"I, umm, it's not finished," I quickly told him. "And it's probably not what you had in mind..."

"I'd still like to hear what you did with it," he looked at me with a soft smile.

I nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and nervousness. I positioned myself back in front of the keyboard, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. As my fingers touched the keys, I started playing, hoping my interpretation of his emotions was as close to reality as they possibly could be.

Jack listened in silence, leaning against the counter. I was so scared that my voice would break on the high notes, as if it would ruin the whole song for him. Despite the added pressure, my body didn't fail me. When I played the last low note, a heavy silence settled between us. I was afraid to look back in Jack's direction.

"That was..." he broke the silence, his voice carrying a blend of emotions, "thank you."

I glanced at him, confused by his reaction. "You're not mad?"

"Mad? Jacie, how can I be mad?"

"I invaded your privacy."

"I mean, I'm the one who left it out in the open." He walked over, his eyes softening as he gestured towards the coffee table. "Kind of seems like I wanted you to see it."

A mixture of relief and gratitude flooded through me. I had been prepared for a different reaction, for him to feel exposed and upset. Instead, his appreciation caught me off guard.

"Did you?" I asked carefully, turning on my chair to continue looking at him.

"Not consciously..." he came over to check out my work again, "but it seems to have happened for a reason."

"Okay... Well, I tried my best..." I gave him a half smile, still fearing that I didn't do justice to his words.

He crouched down beside me, his eyes never leaving the notebook. "You just breathed life into the messy words I wrote and made them beautiful."

I couldn't help but run my fingers through his hair, making his gaze shift to me. Somehow, I felt like I understood him better than I had before. The dark emotions just made more sense. I actually felt my heart skipping a beat just from taking him in again.

"Wanna help me finish it?" I suggested hopefully.

"Yes," he nodded and stood back up, "but I bought ice cream, so that needs to be put away first."

My eyes widened with excitement. "Ice cream?!"