TWRP ORIGINS

Chapter 4: Jack-isms

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Warnings: (mild swearing, descriptions of anxiety attacks)

"You boys need a hand out there?" Mr. Lecurno stood in the entryway to the garage, watching his kids and their friends struggle to carry an amp to the back doors of a big white van.

"No thanks, dad! We're fine!" Stan shouted, obviously not fine.

The boys always struggled loading equipment into the van. It never seemed like that much going in to it, but they were always out of breath afterwards.

He laughed softly and shook his head as he went inside. "Suit yourself kiddo, have fun at the show!"

"Jack!" The guitarist looked around. "Where are ya, bud?"

"Joe, do you even see him anywhere?" Stan looked around for his brother or even his equipment, but both were missing.

"I kinda feel bad that the shortest member of the band has to lug the most shit around." The bassist said. "But that's just part of being a drummer."

"Andy, my brother's not that short." Stan said defensively. "You know how he feels about that shit."

"You know, I have been growing!"

Jack suddenly came around the corner of the house carrying the entirety of his drum set, each piece stacked precariously on top of the other. He effortlessly set the stack down and blew a tendril of hair out of his face. "At least my own brother sticks up for me." He murmured sarcastically.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Joe shouted, gesturing vaguely to the stack.

"I mean, it's just picking shit up." Jack replied as he packed his equipment. "It's not exactly rocket surgery."

Andy let out a small laugh. "Ha, I get it."

Jack's attitude was slightly off-putting, he was usually pretty quiet, but today he was practically emitting positive energy. It was infectious, palpable even. It was strange for a wallflower like him.

"You feeling better, kid?" Andy patted him on the back.

"Why would I not be feeling better?" Jack laughed.

"Remember last week, I think? Stan said you went home early from my post show house party. I just wanna know that you're good."

Jack didn't respond, instead he blanky stared at the ground while making a low humming sound. He couldn't respond. His mind became flooded with memories of what happened that night, the night the shooting star fell. It replayed in his mind over and over again. He remembered living through more than what happened to him, like he'd lived another lifetime before that moment, a feeling he could've gotten used to at this point. The intense flasbacks ended as quickly as they began, and he suddenly couldn't remember what was troubling him at all.

"No, I don't seem to have any memory of that whatsoever! Let's hit the road!" He practically flipped into the van as his band mates stared in confusion.

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"Did you guys see that new alien story?" Joe asked, breaking the awkward silence seeping through the van.

"I don't follow tabloids, man." Andy replied from the back seat.

Joe rolled his eyes. "Even if it's all bullshit this is still some funny stuff."

"What did it say?" Jack had been following the story too but not because he thought it was funny. He was absolutely positive there was a connection between the alien sightings and whatever was wrong with him, so he'd been following the story like a hawk. So far, the results were inconclusive at best. All he had was that the cone shaped helmet in all the reports felt familiar.

"A witness said they saw a lion man, a robot, and a guy with a traffic cone on his head fighting in the parking lot of a guitar center. Fucking hysterical, right?" Joe's laughed quieted when he saw Jack's terrified face in the rear view mirror. Andy pushed his seat playfully.

"Don't let him freak you out man, I'm sure aliens aren't coming for ya any time soon."

Jack had a gut feeling that wasn't true, or maybe it was pre show nerves.

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Jack always got pre show nerves. It was just part of preforming for him. The usual symptoms happened every show; he couldn't eat, he'd bite his nails, and it was terrifying talking to anyone. One of the reasons he was content to stay in the back, behind everyone else. Stan was the biggest advocate for getting him out of his shell but he was nowhere close to having frontman levels of confidence. Which is why it made zero sense to him that he was sent to get the boys their pre show pizza.

"And what name is the order under?" The cashier asked, not looking up from her notepad.

"Stone LaChismo." Jack said without hesitation.

The cashier gave him a confused glance. "I'm sorry?"

"Stone LaChismo." He repeated, sure as ever.

She paused for a moment, flipping through the orders on her notepad. "I'll check if we have-."

"Wait," Jack interrupted "I got it mixed up, it should be under Stan Lecurno, sorry about that." His breathy, nervous laughter made the situation even more awkward.

'How the fuck did I come up with Stone LaChismo? That's not even a name!' Jack thought to himself. 'That would be a pretty sick stage name though.'

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The pre show checklist would have gone off without a hitch if it weren't for the soundcheck. About halfway through the song the visions returned and they were far more intense than earlier. Jack felt like he was phasing in and out of reality. One moment he was drumming, the next playing a keytar. One second he was drowning in anxiety, the next he was elated. The feelings were constant and never the same thing twice. It was as if something was trying to break out of his mind and tear him in half. He suddenly dropped his drum sticks and heard himself hyperventilating.

"Dude, are you ok?" Stan asked, both of his hands on Jack's shoulders. He slowed his breathing as the rest of the boys stared, concerned and a bit freaked out.

"Sorry, guys. I'm just feeling a little off, did I miss anything?" Their eyes bore into his soul, he could feel the shame burning inside his chest. He could deal with his brother thinking he was crazy, he already thought that, but knew he'd die if anyone else did. Stan took the drum sticks out of his hands.

"If you're feeling sick or something that's totally fine. It's up to you if you wanna stay."

"I'm fine, I think I'm just gonna take a walk."

"Cool," Stan patted him on the shoulder and handed the drumsticks to Joe. "Whenever you're ready, brah."

Jack took deep breaths as he walked away from the venue. 'Just around the block, whenever you're ready.' He thought to himself. Stan's words were already helping him calm down. He'd be ready to rock in no time. He turned the corner, and everything went black.

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The sound of a party woke him up. Jack heard his brother's voice from downstairs and nearly fell down the stairs running to it. He saw his brother and the rest of SeX-rays drinking and laughing in the living room. The sky was dark, the van was back in the driveway, he missed the entire show.

Jack ran back to his room, shut the door and sunk his head into his pillow, fighting back tears.

"What is wrong with me!" He shouted into his pillow.

What would he even tell them? The actual explanation for his absence sounded completely insane, and any lie he could think of made him sound like a total dick. There was nothing left but to sit in the shame and regret.

"I truly apologize for this." A voice said. The voice seemed to be coming from his own head, yet it was loud enough to actually hear.

"I never meant to hurt you. I didn't think you'd notice at all, but that was a miscalculation on my part, not a fault of yours."

Jack jumped off his bed and looked around the dark room. He was still alone. He sat back down and put his head in his hands.

"Oh my god, I actually lost my mind!" He said in between panicked breaths.

"Oh no no no, not at all!" The voice quickly replied. "After all I've l put you through, the least I could do is give you some answers."

A bright glow appeared in the middle of Jack's bedroom. He watched in awe as it slowly began to take a familiar humanoid form. The yellow bodysuit with black stripes down the sides, the bright orange conical helmet, Jack couldn't believe it. He was right. The figure stood translucent in front of him. He began to inspect himself, like he was checking if all of him was there.

"I apologize for my appearance, I'm normally more opaque than this, but this darn atmosphere! You know how it is." The figure spoke with the same disembodied voice. "I suppose we should properly meet at this point."

TWRP ORIGINS

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