Someone is walking ahead of him.

He can’t catch up no matter how fast he runs—and he tries, breathing hard, his entire body sore. He feels as if someone has hit him, or maybe he’s fallen. His head is pounding, and he can’t focus, the figure before him swimming in his vision. I have to catch him, he thinks. He has to catch up to the person. He knows, somehow, that if he doesn’t, he’ll be left behind forever. He opens his mouth to yell something, but his voice is gone and nothing comes out. The figure disappears, and Alex screams, silent and terrified. His heart races and he tries to reach out, searching for something, but there’s only darkness. There is no one.

The sunlight is what finally wakes him. Alex groans, squeezing his eyes shut, but it does nothing to stop the pain radiating through his head. He wants to pull a pillow over his head, but it’s hot and he feels stuffy; he’s too tired to move, though, and the pull for the blinds is out of arm’s reach. God, what a hangover. He feels like someone is tap dancing on his brain. A low hum echoes from near his ear, and Alex barely manages to open one of his eyes enough to see his phone vibrating on the mattress, the screen bright and the alarm blinking repeatedly. He barely flings an arm out to shut it off, sighing. He knows he should get up and drink some water or eat something; his phone is already reading eleven o’clock. The dream—or nightmare—still lingers on the edges of his mind, unsettling and dark.

It’s one of the few times Alex is grateful that he has an entire apartment to himself. There’s no noise or movement, and he takes his time in the shower, feeling like he’s resurrecting his heavy body from a deathlike sleep. When he finally makes his way to the kitchen, there’s an empty bottle and a glass by the sink; he vaguely remembers coming home and drinking. Why did I drink here if I went out? No wonder I had such a bad dream. He tips the glass into the sink and then blinks, staring at his wallet on the counter. It hits him all at once.

“I messed up,” Alex says to the empty apartment. His heart sinks faster than a rock, dropping like a lead weight as he leans against the sink for support. He can clearly remember everything now. He remembers being stuck in traffic; he remembers being frustrated and tired; he remembers running over to Ezra without thinking; he remembers leading him into the alley.

Alex remembers seeing Ezra in the crowd, wearing a leather jacket and bouncing with the crowd at the stage. Alex remembers kissing him and feeling the electricity, something overpowering blacking out all other thoughts. He remembers being shocked and pleased and suddenly drunk on the feeling. Alex remembers leaving through the back door, and he remembers what happened—but more importantly, he remembers the exact moment that he found out it wasn’t Ezra—that it was never Ezra. It was Jasper. Alex had kissed Jasper; he had pushed Jasper onto his knees, and he had done something he couldn’t take back. He couldn’t take any of it back.

I fucked up. I fucked up so badly, Alex realizes, despair crashing over him. He can’t remember parting ways, and he can’t remember what, if anything, he had said to Jasper. All he knows is that he did something he can’t take back, and it’s all because of a lie he can’t even begin to understand. Out of everything, Alex just wants to know why. He wants to hold Jasper in place and shake his shoulders, asking why. Why did he feel the need to lie about his name? Something so simple and stupid, but so very important. Alex stares at the sink, suddenly feeling sick, and then he hears the faint buzzing of his phone. Is that him? Alex starts, running to his bedroom, wondering if it’s Jasper. If maybe Jasper will plead or laugh. If Jasper will say it’s all a trick, or maybe a misunderstanding—that it had been Ezra all along, up until last night. Alex isn’t sure that would make him feel better, though.

“Hey. Did I wake you up?” It’s Reid. His brother’s familiar voice is comforting; it’s even and normal, as if nothing in the world is different and Alex hasn’t just been completely screwed over.

“No. No, I’ve...I’m awake,” Alex says, his voice cracking a little. He clears his throat, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he turns mindlessly in place. What do I do? Do I call him? Do I even try to get him to explain? What do I do?

“You sound kind of shitty. Are you sick?” Reid sounds concerned. Alex wants to tell him not to worry, that he doesn’t deserve it, that his stupidity just cost him a friend. All the little details keep scratching at Alex’s mind. The way Jasper had been shocked after the kiss—of course he had—and the way he can remember Jasper saying what.

“I—um, I went out last night,” Alex explains. What did I do? His heart is practically in his throat; he can’t stomach the thought that maybe he pushed Jasper, and that whatever happened was his fault. That even sober, he hadn’t been able to recognize the difference between what he wanted and what Jasper was trying to tell him.

“What’s wrong?”

Reid asks because of course, he can tell. He’s Alex’s brother. Alex bites his lip, trying to think of what to say.

“I know it’s something. Why don’t I meet you for lunch?”

“Yes. Yeah, okay,” Alex says, sighing as he leans on the counter. He can’t stop the terrible thoughts in his mind, but he needs advice before he does anything. Before he goes about finding the truth in a way that tears him further apart at the seams.

“All right. I’ll meet you at the sushi place on Maine. Don’t do anything dumb until then, okay?” Reid says it jokingly, but Alex feels like it’s all too appropriate. His stupid decision and reckless behavior is exactly what put him in the position he’s in. All because I couldn’t stop to listen. He was trying to tell me, Alex realizes. That’s why he wanted to meet up. Alex goes through the motions of agreeing and hanging up before looking down at his phone, the call list showing Jasper’s number. He wants to throw the phone across the room, but instead, he shoves it into his pocket and sits on the couch, turning the television on to drown out his thoughts. He waits for his brother to get closer to town, breathing evenly, and thinks about how he’s going to explain without sounding just as stupid and terrible as he feels. An hour and a half later, he still has no clue.

* * *

“I messed up. More than just messed up, actually—I completely and totally screwed up. Badly.”

It’s not how Alex planned on starting the conversation, but it’s what comes out of his mouth when he opens it. Reid just looks back at him, pausing in his move to sip from his iced green tea, and Alex sighs. Reid clears his throat, taking a quiet sip, and then he folds his arms on the tabletop.

“What exactly did you do?”

“I don’t actually know when it started. All I know is that Ezra was really Jasper, maybe, or I just mistook Jasper for Ezra last night and…did something stupid.”

“Okay? I mean, it’s probably not a big deal if you made a mistake; I’m sure it happens a lot—”

“Yeah, well, I made out with Jasper because I thought he was Ezra. And we—kind of...went into a back alley. Umm. You know—”

“I get it,” Reid says, holding up a hand to stop him. He opens his mouth and then closes it, exhaling heavily through his nose. Alex waits for something—anything—and then Reid drops his head into his hands, rubbing his face tiredly. “What...umm, how did you find out? That you made a mistake?”

“I don’t even know that it’s a mistake,” Alex repeats. He’s starting to feel a sting of anger—not at Reid, but at Jasper. Little things are coming back to him; the way Dean had called Jasper by the right name, and the way Jasper had been so reluctant to meet after their first date. “I think he took his brother’s place the first time and couldn’t be bothered to tell the truth.”

“Wait, you’re saying he lied to you?” Reid asks, incredulous. “Why are you feeling bad if he lied?”

“Because I don’t know,” Alex says, frustrated. “I mean, anything could be true, right? Anyway, the thing that matters is that I cared. I really enjoyed him—whoever it was—and what I felt was real. What I did with Jasper was good. Lie or not, I liked it.”

It sounds even worse when he says it out loud. Reid stares at his glass, chewing on his bottom lip. He has the same look on his face Alex used to see when Reid was looking at bills. Except this time, I’m the one that made him worried. Alex can’t even imagine what Jasper is feeling. Alex wants to call him—he’d almost done it several times on his way over—but he’d stopped himself every time, repeating the mantra that Jasper needed space. Maybe they both needed space, to untangle their attraction and the reality of what happened.

“Okay, well, you weren’t drunk, right? You can’t—and shouldn’t—use that as an excuse. And it was consensual? I mean, was there any point where he tried to stop you? Or seem like he didn’t want to?”

“No—but I mean, maybe he just didn’t want to say anything because it was me. Maybe he just thought—I don’t know!” Alex exclaims, before realizing that he’s too loud. He groans into his hands, frustrated. This isn’t helping. “I just—I messed up, and I don’t know if he hates me now or if Ezra hates me. Maybe they all hate me. He was my friend. Or at least, I think he was.”

Reid is quiet. The waiter appears with an appetizer, and Alex pokes at the dumplings between him and his brother, half-heartedly biting into one. I’ve never been this messed up over something like this before, he thinks. There have been plenty of friends with benefits in his life; he’s had a few flings during his time abroad. It’s not like it’s out of character for him; it’s the fact that it was Jasper—or Ezra. Alex is fully aware of how good their friendship was and how much whichever twin trusted him.

“You know, Alex, I don’t know much about you and whoever it really was you knew, but it’s not impossible for someone to fall in love with a friend.”

“What?” Alex stares at his brother. Out of all the things Reid could have said, this is not something he expected. Love? “I’m not—I’m not in love. I knew from the beginning it was short-term. Ezra or Jasper—God, I don’t even know anymore—they were interested in Dean.”

“Are you sure? You both seemed to be moving pretty slow for a short-term relationship. We both know you were way more invested in it than you’ve been with others. You’re always taking pictures of their dog. You mention things you talk about over lunch all the time. I mean, you teased me from Ireland about constantly talking about Ben. You’re doing the same thing.”

“Because he’s my friend,” Alex says, but he feels like he’s questioning himself. Damn it. “And it doesn’t matter either way. One way or another, they lied to me or I made a mistake and came on to the wrong person last night.”

Reid frowns. Alex can see it now—he can see the bar, Dean sitting with Ezra. He can see Jasper dancing and suddenly, with a sense of bone-deep dread, Alex knows that it was Jasper all along. He can’t really forget the little things about him; his tendency to rub his nose when he’s embarrassed or happy, the way Jasper has always looked at Alex like he doesn’t want to be caught staring. And if he lied to me, what then? Alex isn’t sure he knows how to feel. He’s angry, of course, that Jasper lied; but he can’t come up with a reason to be mad for long. After all, it’s not like he switched places with his brother or did it to get something out of Alex. He only ever lied about his name. I didn’t know either of them when we started dating. Why does it matter so much? Why did he do it?

“Okay,” Reid says, bringing Alex back to reality. “Here’s what I think you should do—and remember, this is just my opinion, and I don’t know him as well as you do. I think you should talk to Jasper. First of all, you need to know if he felt comfortable with what happened. That’s the important part. Once you know that, you can start to figure out where things went wrong.”

“And if he doesn’t even want to talk to me?” Alex asks, feeling his heart sink. Maybe he already knew he had no option but to reach out, but he still wished there were another way.

“Then you have to accept that,” Reid says, his smile a little sadder than before. “Maybe it shouldn’t have happened, but it did. Take responsibility. If you wait too long, you’ll just make it worse.”

If it even can get worse than this, Alex thinks. He goes through lunch almost mechanically, feeling like he has a cloud hanging over his head, threatening to hit him with lightning. As much as Alex hates to lose the friendship he had, he knows he has to admit to what he did and make things right. He’ll have to live with the consequences of acting without thinking—and for once, there’s no one else to help him get out of it.