Jamie stared at himself in the mirror, he refused to believe what Jett had just told him.
They kissed?.
Jamie grabbed in head, trying to dig up his memories, but he wasn't getting anything.
"This can't be real." He muttered to himself.
"I must be out of my fucking mind." He whispered, staring at his haunted face in the mirror.
"Think, think, think Jamie." He mumbled as he paced back and forth in the bathroom.
Then fragments of his memories started surfacing, heat, dizziness, a voice telling him it was okay, something warm and solid holding him together when he felt like he was falling apart.
No.
"No, no no no no" he whispered to himself.
"I didn't do anything to you Jamie. I swear to you." Jett's voice came softly from the other side of the door.
The door unlocked violently and Jamie stormed out, eyes blazing, grabbed the shirt lying discarded on the floor, and shoved it hard into Jett's chest.
"Get out!" he yelled. "Get out of my house right now."
"Jamie-"
