thirty two
I'm sitting next to Alex six minutes and twenty-four seconds before midnight. I'm not sure why I get all my work down at night, I'm not sure why everything happens at night.
Everyone is asleep—even Luke—but Alex and I are not.
Alex is on his phone, refreshing his email and thanking the Lords for plane wifi. I know he's reading over my shoulder as I turn notes into paragraphs, filling out my outline and making sure the drafts save.
"Hey, Mike," he says quietly. He speaks in a whisper for curtsy of the one-hundred sleeping passengers around us.
"Yeah?" I ask, taking out my other earbud. I'm suddenly aware of the buzz of the plane, the dim blue lights overhead, the soft breathing of first class, the cramps in my left shin.
"Has Luke been staying with you?"
"Yes," I confidently respond, knowing that lying won't get me anywhere.
"Okay."
I know that Alex was concerned about Luke sneaking out and doing things he wasn't supposed to be doing in places he wasn't supposed to be with people he wasn't supposed to be hanging out with.
Like a mother. Alex is like Luke's mother.
"Off the record, is he doing alright?" The older man asks.
I don't move, I don't think a single thought. "I don't know," I, once again, honestly answer.
"You're you," he spoke as if that meant something more.
"I think he's breaking." I look over at Luke's manager and he's already staring at me. "I think you need to get him help, I think you need to help him."
Alex looks hurt even though he knew this was coming—I've always been blunt. "He's like the son I never plan on having."
I don't crack a smile. "He gets angry and sad and anxious here and there, I feel like his bad days are getting worse and his good days aren't happening."
"You think so?" Alex genuinely asks.
I'm scared answering these, I'm no professional. I'm nowhere close. I'm just a kid whose 3 months has been devoted to Luke.
I nod, "He's really not okay. I'm starting to believe it's not just my paranoia, he's going to drive himself insane."
"I know that, I really do. I also know that Luke will never get help, I promise you that one. I know Luke," he rubs at his eyes and then forehead before repeating, "I know Luke."
"There are things that I don't think I can tell you. I'm sure there are things you can't tell me. But, trust me, Luke cannot dig himself out of this. He will get worse, he will not make it to his contract break in December."
Alex's heart is beating, I can almost hear it from the seat over. "I want him to be happy, that's all I've ever wanted. Even when he was 16 and I drove him to his own gigs, I did it to make him happy."
I shrugged, not sure what else to say. "I'm a stupid 19-year-old, maybe I'm wrong." I knew I was right.
Luke is a mess, his head isn't on his shoulders. He needs help and I can't give it to him. I'm in his head and I don't want to be anymore, I wanted to fix the rough edges but they're torn apart too badly.
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