Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, obviously, nor do I own any of the characters in this here story.

"They slit our throats,

Like we were flowers.

And our milk has been devoured."

With a loud, startled gasp, Jay sat bolt upright in his bed, forcing himself awake from his nightmare. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, as if there were a weight pressing down on his chest, and his head didn't feel any better, either. Cursing under his breath, he slowly got to his feet, which was no easy task; his whole body felt useless and foreign to him. Then again, he'd been sleeping for sixteen hours straight; what could he expect?

The brown-haired man made his way out of his bedroom, heading into his small, messy living room. He sat down heavily on his ripped, tarnished couch, instantly regretting it as his head began throbbing harder. He picked up his cell phone and opened it, his heart skipping a beat when he saw he had one new message. He knew who he wanted it to be, but he also knew that there was no chance of the message being from her. He glanced first at the sender of the message before reading it; Spinner, of course. He knew Manny wouldn't have sent him the message, but that didn't stop him from hoping it was her everytime his phone made a sound.

"When you want it,

It goes away too fast.

Times you hate it,

It always seems to last."

Manny had been the only girl he'd ever loved with all his heart, the only girl he could picture himself spending the rest of his life with. He done everything he could to keep her happy; decieved her parents to help her gain freedom, pretended to be engaged to her to keep her father happy, and became truly engaged to her, so he could keep them both happy. He'd wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but she had other plans, now. He couldn't change enough for her, and now he was alone, living by himself in a messy apartment on the bad side of town, with one person in the entire world he could call a friend.

It seemed like so long ago that Manny had ripped his heart from his chest, but it'd only been a few weeks. Those few weeks, though, were the longest of Jay's life. He'd tried everything to make himself feel better; dating other girls, spending more time with Spinner, working at the Garage more often...He'd even tried learning how to play guitar to fill his free time. No matter what he did, though, his days felt empty without Manny.

"Just remember, when you think you're free...
The crack inside your fucking heart is me."

Jay wanted to believe he could have another chance with Manny, but his hope grew dimmer and dimmer everytime he called the girl. He'd say one word, and she'd hang up on him after realizing who the caller was. She wanted nothing to do with him anymore, now that she was a college student. It made him sick to think of all the frat boys who must be all over her, trying to get her into their beds for one night of fun before they forgot about her forever. Guys who only wanted sex; guys who didn't care who she was, or what she felt about anything, guys who only cared that she was attractive and a cheerleader.

Stepping over piles of clothes and cans of beer that littered the floor, Jay entered his kitchen, opened his refridgerator, and extracted an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels. He sat atop his counter after setting a few dirty dishes into the sink, opened the bottle, and began drinking it, not bothering to get a glass to pour it in.

"I wanna outrace the speed of pain for another day."

Without Manny in his life, Jay found sleeping and eating hard. He'd stay up for nights at a time, drunk or high out of his mind, until eventually his body shut itself down, forcing him to get the sleep he'd been depriving it of. When that happened, he'd sleep for much longer than he normally should, and have nightmares about the day Manny left him. Over and over again, the scene replayed itself; Manny giving him back the ring he'd given her as an engagement band, the ring he'd had to steal from a store after she sold it for plane tickets to a place Jay had lied about. Neither of them even knew where Malta was.

"I wish I could sleep,

But I can't lay on my back.

Because there's a knife

For everyday I've known you."

A bitter laugh escaped Jay's lips as he returned to the couch. He'd thought about a million times a day since the girl he loved left him, and everytime he did he couldn't help but hate himself. If he'd only told Manny the truth about his parents in the first place, then they'd have had a storybook ending. She wouldn't have sold the engagement ring he'd given her for tickets to the middle of fucking nowhere, and he wouldn't have had to steal the ring from the pawn shop she'd sold it to. If he hadn't had to steal back the ring, then Manny wouldn't have given up on hope of him changing, and the two would be picking out a cake for their wedding reception. If only.

"When you want it,

It goes away too fast.

Times you hate it,

It always seems to last.

Just remember, when you think you're free...

The crack inside your fucking heart is me."

Nowadays, all Jay could do was make his head forget the girl. If he drank himself to forgetting, or he smoked until he didn't care, he could sometimes make his heart forget her, too. That's the reason he was rarely sober anymore; way up high, in the alcohol-and-drug-induced utopia he created for himself, being alone didn't matter nearly as much as it did when he was low. If there was a substance that could make him forget Manny, even for a few moments, he'd willingly use it. Anything to make the pain go away, even if it made him feel worse than before the next day.

"I wanna outrace the speed of pain for another day."

Like he did every night, Jay picked up his phone, dialed the girl's number, and waited for her to pick up. He knew, no matter what time of day it was, Manny would answer her phone, even if she would hang up right after he spoke. As he guessed she would, Manny answered on the fourth or fifth ring.

"Hello?" she said groggily.

Jay glanced at the clock; he must've woken her up. It was, after all, four in the morning. "Hey." He said, somewhat slurring the word. He was beginning to feel the dreamy effects of the large bottle of alcohol he'd drank ten minutes before. "Can we talk?"

Without saying a single word in response, Manny hung up the phone, just like Jay expected her to. It was alright, though; he'd gotten what he'd wanted. All he needed was to hear her voice, to know that he hadn't just imagined the time they'd spent together before. He needed to know she existed, and that she still knew he did as well. It hurt him, though, that she never said anything more than a greeting. She didn't want to talk to him, Jay understood that, but she could at least say a few more words than 'hello'. She could scream obscenities at him at the top of her lungs, or call him names so hurtful most people would be reduced to tears; anything would be fine with Jay, as long as he could hear her voice for longer than a second.

"Lie to me,

Cry to me,

Give to me,

I would.

Lie with me,

Die with me,

Give to me,

I would."

Did the time they'd spent together mean so little to Manny that she wasn't even willing to give Jay a few moments of her precious time? She'd agreed to marry him, hadn't she? She must've loved him, once, even if she didn't anymore. She could at least try to remember the feelings she used to have for Jay when he called. All he wanted was her. He was willing to change for her, and really mean it this time. He was willing to stop drinking, stop smoking, stop whatever she asked him to, as long as she would tell him to. He would get a better job and get them a place together, if only she was willing to be with him again. He'd do anything for one more chance.

That's when his greatest idea yet struck him; a foolproof way to get Manny back. She may not be willing to talk to him now, but what if he was seriously injured? If he was on the verge of death, then maybe she'd realize how much she missed him and how much she wanted him back. It took tragedy to awaken muted feelings in people sometimes, right? Then perhaps he'd need to be within an inch of death to get her to pay attention again. If she realized just how far he was willing to go for her then she'd surely fall back in love with him, and he was certainly willing to do anything for that conclusion. It was a good thing his apartment was on the sixth floor of the building, and that the alcohol buzzing through his body was giving him the false confidence he needed. He opened his living room window, stepped out onto the balcony, and took a long leap towards the storybook ending he was willing to die for.

"Keep all your secrets wrapped in dead hair.

I hope at least we die holding hands for always."