//hate to feel//

//2//

Layne was dumbfounded by the answer, and he was unable to respond.

Jerry smiled a little at Layne's lack of words. "Do you have any family at all Layne?"

Layne shook his head, but realized that Jerry couldn't see it. "Not really. My mom and dad stopped talking to me."

"Oh," Jerry frowned, but Layne didn't know, "why's that?"

Layne sighed, a new wave of tears blurring his vision. "Because they found out I was into-" Layne let out a few more sobs, and Jerry's heart broke at the sound of them. "It's because I'm a fag."

"That shouldn't be a reason you stop talking to people. I'm into guys too."

Layne's heart fluttered at that small fact. He wasn't sure why Jerry told him that, but he was slightly glad that he did.

"My friends left me too."

"Well why would they do that?" Jerry sounded genuinely curious. Which took Layne off guard. He didn't really care, did he? Either way, Layne appreciated the attention, and was craving more of it. Jerry's in specific.

So in that case, Layne was going to spill everything. He talked more about his family, his friends and how they left him, his addiction to heroin...everything. He talked about how he was going to be a singer of a band with his friends, and how he had ruined that opportunity. And Jerry listened intently the entire time, only speaking when Layne took a break to cry, filling him in with advice and comfort.

Layne found himself feeling more than just appreciation for Jerry, he was feeling something more than that, but he didn't know what it was. So when it was nearing their end, he began to feel the same way he did before he had called.

"So Layne, I have to ask you this again. Do you want to commit suicide?"

"I-I don't know. I think I'm okay now that you're here." Layne cringed at his words. Jerry would probably hang up because of that.

"Layne, I have to leave now if you're feeling better. There's other people that need help."

Layne's heart ached at that. Jerry was right, he wasn't special, he was just a statistic.

He whimpered. "Jerry..."

"Yeah?"

"Please don't leave me..."

Jerry sighed, the sound of Layne's begging sending unfamiliar feelings throughout his chest. "Layne, I can't stay forever. I'd be with you right now if I could."

Layne bit his lip. "Maybe you could."

"I live in Seattle Layne. I don't think that'd be possible."

Layne gasped in surprise. What are the odds of that? He didn't know if it was some work in the sky or feat, but he was happy nonetheless.

"I do too." Was all the singer could muster.

"No way, do you actually?"

"Yes!" Layne cried, "I do!"

Jerry bit one of his nails. Something he normally did when he was nervous. "Well uh...Layne?"

"Yeah?"

He waited a few seconds in contemplation. Should he put his job at risk by doing this? Before he could think about it any longer, he asked "would you like to meet up sometime?"

Layne's heart nearly lept out of his chest. Was Jerry asking him out? He shook his head again, it seemed unlikely to him. He was a disgusting human being. He didn't deserve someone as pure as the man he was talking to.

"Layne?" Jerry asked, the singer had realized he didn't answer.

"Yeah." He choked out, too lost in his thoughts to think of a better response.

"Great, would you like my number?"

"Y-yeah!" Layne said, cringing again at his sudden excitement. But he soon forgot about it, because all he could think about at that moment was Jerry.

The two exchanged numbers, and they bid each other farewell. Jerry had promised that he would call Layne at about nine that night. But Layne thought it would be too good to be true.

He mentally reminded himself that he wasn't capable of being loved. And with that thought in his head, he placed his cell on the counter, and lit a ciggeratte.