A/N- thanks for waiting longer for this part, its taken me many many hours! I hope you enjoy!
Logan : 24th December
He knew he shouldn't be here. Hell, this was stalker behaviour. He wasn't a stalker. But who else finds themselves hanging about the street corner of their ex's house on Christmas Eve?
Fuck. Fucking hell. He knew he should go back home, but his feet wouldn't move. It didn't help that home wasn't exactly a fun place to be right now.
Dad didn't know the truth yet, but he did know about Logan flunking out of his university course thanks to the email he had received from the head of Logan's course earlier that month.
"It's thanks to me you even got in to that university!" Dad had roared at him when he arrived home yesterday, once again reminding him that he was a thick useless layabout who had only got into Uni thanks to Dad's 'connections'.
He had calmed down today, perhaps because it was Christmas Eve. But even without the yelling, the cold stoney silence was worse. Then there was the glances from Mum, the knowledge that there was still more news that needed sharing that Dad would take badly.
Logan had dreaded coming home, he always used to stay out of the house as much as possible but now? No Chris, no friends... no Alex. He had nowhere to go. When he had stormed out the house earlier after a particularly snarky comment from Dad, he hadn't planned on where he would go. It was only when his anger subsided that he realised he was almost at Alex's house.
Alex.
His chest ached. A sharp pain that pierced the constant dull throb of loss that had thrummed for the last two months since Alex had walked away.
He missed him more than words could express. Alex embodied everything that was right in the world. When Logan was near him, he was a better person. He was kind, funny, smart and sexy as hell to top it off. With just enough awkward charm that he didn't know how great he was. Logan loved him more than he loved anyone.
He had always fancied him, before he knew what it meant. But in his idiotic childish teenage brain, he had translated that awe into jealous envy. He had allowed his fear and self hatred to project out onto the one perfect thing he had in his life.
And when those eyes looked at him with hate and disgust, he had felt a satisfaction that Alex saw him for what he was. A freak. That's what Chris had said, gay men were freaks. An abomination. Those were Dad's words.
He had wanted Alex to hate him. Better to hate him than the alternative, he had thought. For years he had thrived off that response. The power of it, the attention and the thrill. Hatred was an incredibly strong emotion. It stood in perfectly for the firey emotion he truly wanted.
How selfish he had been. He had been so consumed by his own confused feelings he hadn't really considered the magnitude of his actions on Alex. He had guessed briefly towards the end of their school years that perhaps things had done too far, and had distanced himself. But he still kept tabs on his once best friend.
But when he got his hands on Alex's diary.... He still remembered spotted the battered book under his pillow. Knowing it was private, knowing he shouldn't look, and yet... that burning emotion that made all sense leave his mind roared to take it. To read it. And, forever the selfish fool, he did.
Those nights he had cried into his pillow when he realised what he had truly done still haunted him. The years he had ruined, the years he had wasted... would things be different if he had just owned up to how he truly felt all those years ago?
Would he be on this cold street corner on Christmas Eve, heartbroken and lonely? He shivered. It was really getting cold. How long had he been stood here? He lifted the whiskey bottle to his lips and swigged. Expensive stuff from Dad's cabinet. He would be scolded for it later, but it was worth it.
Laughter came from his left and he glanced around to see a drunken group of merry pub goers making their way down the street, bedecked in novelty Christmas jumpers and light up reindeer antlers. The sight of people was what finally pulled his feet from the pavement. He stumbled slightly down the street, refusing to look at the front door of Alex's family home as he walked away, his shoulders huddled against the frigid air.
The street swayed as he walked. He hadn't realised quite how much he had drunk as he stewed in old memories. He also hadn't realised he had tears in his eyes until they fell hot against his cheeks. He brushed them away, with a noise of annoyance. He hated these streets. Hated this straight laced homophobic town.
Lost.
Rejected.
Alone.
Maybe he :should return to Leeds. But what was there for him anyway? A course he hated that he had only taken for a father he despised? A best friend who he had stopped talking to, and housemates who were forced to awkwardly take sides? A home that felt like a prison.
Cold.
Empty.
Alone.
He walked down the busier main road, Christmas songs blasting from the colourful bars and pubs, their bright signage and car headlights from the road blinding him. If he just walked in front of those cars now, would anyone miss him?
It was a comforting thought. Blissful, quiet, no judgement from his father, no hatred, no pain. It would be so easy. Just one step. One step and it would all go away.
The loud car horn blared him out of his reverie. He had stumbled in front of the nearest car without really thinking, and the car which had already slowed for traffic ahead did an emergency stop, the bumper colliding with his shins. It hurt a bit but the shock was enough that he stood up, apologising and backing away from the driver who threw expletives and hand gestures back at him.
He felt shaken by what he had done. Had that been deliberate? Had he stepped in front of that car on purpose? He had thought about it but he didn't think he would actually do it until he had already done it. He lifted the whiskey to his lips and winced at the burn in his throat as he took a long drink.
"Logan?"
Shit.
"Hey Logan!"
He didn't have time to get away, to hide. Aiden and Ben's face swam into view. Logan winced. Last time he had seen those faces they had been stood behind Chris as he spewed his homophobic crap.
"Hey you okay? You almost got hit by that car back there," Aiden said, bending down and putting a hand on his shoulder. Logan suddenly became aware he was sitting on the pavement, his back against a wall but had no memory of falling or getting down.
Ben said something too but his voice was distant and echoing.
He felt nauseous as he tried to focus on Ben's face, closing his eyes against the spinning world. It didn't help, and as the nausea rose he felt the clench in his stomach that meant only one thing. The glass bottle made a clinking noise as he dropped it, turning to the side to vomit. The whiskey burned as much in the way out as it had on the way in.
When it was finished, he lay back against the wall panting before reaching for the bottle again.
"Woah there buddy, think we've had enough of that."
Logan scowled at him, wrenching the bottle from his hands with a glare, "we're not fucking buddies."
He remembered when they were, remembered painfully a time when Aiden had laughed when he had called Alex a fag in front of their whole class. Relishing in the attention, the hateful look Alex had given him. Yes, hate me, he had thought. I'm a monster, I'm a freak, you should hate me.
Now though, his guts churned with revulsion for himself and he wondered if he was going to vomit again. Aiden had done nothing. He was no better than Logan.
"Go away, Aiden."
"Ok, but let us help you home. It's Christmas Eve, taxis will be a fortune."
