Now, that made sense. Kelly was my assistant, and Alex was like a lovesick puppy about her. She was currently staying in my coach house while her loft was being renovated. Therefore, it seemed that Alex was around my place a lot more than normal—and he definitely wasn’t visiting me. “Figured I could catch a ride with you,” he said, nudging me. “After a few more pics with these guys.”

I always had a feeling that the two of them had a connection, and it wasn’t shocking that they’d begun talking. Honestly, they were a perfect match. For a while, Kelly suffered from an eating disorder, trying to keep up with Hollywood’s beauty standards. Alex was the main one who helped her through her hardships. He would sit with her and eat meals every single day without fail, making sure she knew she wasn’t alone in her struggles. What started as friendship slowly began to transform into something with more meaning.

We took a few more photographs with the fans while ignoring the vultures on the other side asking us insane questions, then climbed into the back of the black Audi that was waiting for us.

“Hey, Ralph, you all right with me smoking in here?” Alex asked as he leaned forward toward the driver.

“Whatever you want to do is fine by me, Mr. Smith,” Ralph replied, being the laid-back driver he’d always been. Alex always found the need to ask him about the smoking thing, even though Ralph always said it was fine.

Alex sat back as he lit up a joint. He wasn’t a big smoker or anything, but he always had a joint after some kind of event. Maybe that was his way of unwinding from social gatherings. I would’ve taken up the habit if I thought it would’ve helped with my social anxiety. Instead, pot made me more paranoid of what people were thinking of me.

Hard pass for me.

“You hear this song?” Alex asked, pulling out his phone and hitting play. “‘Godspeed,’ by James Blake. Shit. His voice is so fucking dope, man. Smooth as whiskey. Reminds me of our old stuff, before the record deal.” He plopped back in his seat and closed his eyes. “Whenever I hear music like this, I feel like a sellout. This is the music we wanted to make, you know? Music that fucked with your soul in a good way. That made you feel alive.”

The song was powerful in such a chill way, which wasn’t shocking for James Blake. He made me feel to the depths of my being. Alex wasn’t wrong—our music used to feel like that too. Like it mattered. When we signed with our record label, they changed our direction a lot, which brought us fame and millions of fans along with millions of dollars. Sometimes we wondered at what expense, though. How much money and fame was enough to sell one’s soul?

Many days I wished I could go back to the days of small venues and tiny crowds.

Felt more authentic back then.

I reached for my phone and opened my current playlist routine to share my current favorite track from James Blake. There wasn’t a day that Alex and I didn’t send each other music. We used music to express how we were feeling day in and day out. Sometimes we were too exhausted for true conversations, so songs were our way to communicate.

Had a great day? “It Was a Good Day,” by Ice Cube. Felt down? “This City,” by Sam Fischer. The world getting on your last nerve? “Fuck You,” by CeeLo Green. No matter what the feeling was, there was a song that could express it.

“You heard this one?” I asked, turning on “Retrograde,” by James Blake. First time I heard it, I knew it was important.

Alex opened his eyes and leaned forward. His brows knitted as his head began to slowly nod to the beat of the song. “Shit,” he said, smirking as the lyrics laid their seed in his head. His eyes glassed over as the joint sat between his lips, the end of it lit with reddish-orange heat. “We need to get back to this kind of stuff.” He rubbed a thumb against his watery eyes, and I smirked.

My sensitive brother always got more in his feelings when he was getting high.

“For real, Oliver. We need to get back to—”

His words were cut short as the car came to a sudden halt, jerking Alex and me forward in the back seat. “What the hell was that?” I asked.

“Sorry, you guys. Some assholes came rushing down the road like idiots,” Ralph said before pushing his foot against the gas to start again.

Just as we were sitting back in our seat and beginning to relax again, the world began to shatter around us, along with the windows that busted from the impact of a car slamming against the left side of the car. There wasn’t any time to react or comprehend exactly what was going on. All I knew was everything ached. My phone flew from my hand. My chest burned as my vision blurred.

The sound of horns blasting surrounded us. The sound of people shouting echoed in my eardrums.

I couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried. I felt . . . upside down? Was I upside down? Was the car upside down? Was Alex . . . ?

Fuck.

Alex?

I looked to my left, my neck aching from the slight movement. There he was, his eyes closed, his face covered in blood, his body not moving in the slightest.

“Alex,” I choked out, the word burning my throat as tears flooded my eyes. “Alex,” I repeated, over and over again until my head began to ache in an unimaginable fashion.

I had to close my eyes.

I didn’t want to close my eyes.

I wanted to check on Alex.

I wanted to make sure he was okay.

I wanted to . . .

Fuck.

I couldn’t breathe. Why did my throat burn? Was Alex all right?

My eyes began to fade as “Retrograde” echoed in my eardrums.

A Star Is Gone

By Jessica Peppers

It looks like the music world has to say goodbye to another musician. Lead guitarist Alex Smith of Alex & Oliver is dead at 27. After a deadly car crash, he was raced to Memorial Hospital, where he was announced dead on arrival.

Insiders are saying that Alex was leaving the party due to his brother. Is it too early to put this fault on the shoulders of Oliver? Oliver was left with a few injuries but nothing too serious. Still, with such a big loss, who knows what that will do to the artist.

Stay tuned for more updates as they roll in, and remember, you read it first here on W News.

BREAKING NEWS

The Curse of the 27 Club

Alex Smith, Dead at 27

By Eric Hunter

Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, Amy Winehouse.

What do all these musicians have in common—other than being legendary masterpieces? They all left the world at the early age of 27. Sadly, they have another joining the club at the same tender age. Alex Smith was announced dead last night after a tragic car accident took place. Rumor has it that there were drugs in Alex’s system. We reached out to Oliver’s team for a statement but have heard nothing back from them as of yet.

Questions are arising in the wake of such a tragedy. What does this mean for Alex & Oliver? Will Oliver continue on without his brother by his side? How will Oliver ever be able to come to grips with such a personal loss?

Only time will tell.

Keep a close eye on our site for all incoming updates on this tragic event.

Tragedy Strikes Alex & Oliver

By Aaron Bank

Alex Smith, of Alex & Oliver, was pronounced dead late this evening after a car crash. One of the music industry’s brightest stars is gone too soon.

With the loss of Alex, the world didn’t simply lose a talented musician. It lost a great advocate for human rights. From his voice in the Black community, to being on the front line of marches for equality, Alex Smith did a lot of good for this world. He is definitely gone too soon.

Twitter Trending Hashtag

#RIPAlexSmith

ShannonE: That awkward moment when the wrong Smith brother is killed. #RIPAlexSmith

HeavyLifter: Oliver is nothing but a fucking loser. If he didn’t have Alex leave early, he’d still be alive. His death is on Oliver’s hands. RIP to the best guitarist this world has ever seen. #RIPAlexSmith #FuckYouOliverSmith

BlackJazz4235: Who the fuck is Alex & Oliver? Sounds like an emo band who cries in their mother’s basement #RIPAlexSmith #BullshitMusic

UptownGirlz: How is it only January 6th and one of my idols is already dead? Fuck you, new year. I want a restart. #RIPAlexSmith

UntitledSoul: And this is why you say no to drugs, kids. Fucking addicts. #RIPAlexSmith

The Fate of Oliver Smith Is at Risk

By Eric Hunter

It has been six months since the passing of Alex Smith, one half of the powerful duo Alex & Oliver, and time has not been kind to Oliver Smith. We saw how his stay at a mental health clinic was tainted by the paparazzi and jaded employees who exposed Oliver’s treatments, which led to him leaving the facility before getting the help he probably needed. Since then, he has been a recluse, hardly ever leaving his home. An insider says he’s on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Many fans were hoping to see Oliver come around and bounce back from the tragic loss, yet as time passes, we might as well pack up our hopes, kids.

It seems that Oliver is hanging up his guitar strap for good. Besides, let’s be honest. Who wants an Oliver without an Alex?

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OLIVER