Year One

It wasn't so much that she had left, as it was that she had done so without telling him. She didn't owe him anything; that much he knew and she made clear when he had roughed up Iwannabeyourtrueloveboyscout Piz. Still, it hurt that Veronica thought so little of their relationship or whatever it was that remained between them.

" 'Ronica? You're gonna have to pick up sometime. You can't hide forever," he whispered into his cell phone and hit the end button. That was message number 172 (by his count) that he had left this summer and thus far there had been nothing but deafening silence. It didn't take him long to hire Vinnie because well, because there were only two PIs that he knew of. Keith would be of little to no help leaving him with option number two- Vinnie. Vinnie Van Lowe.

Vinnie took about a couple minutes (or so it seemed) to report back that the petite blonde troublemaker was up at Stanford with a "hunkalicious piece of Brad Pitt look alike," settling into a normal life and Logan was left with quick relief at the thought that Veronica wasn't actively hiding. Of course the respite lasted for all of two minutes before blinding rage and self-loathing took over and once more he found himself passed out in the Neptune Grand penthouse sans his pants.

Year Two

Vinnie continued to take snapshots of Veronica going to class. Veronica kissing another Piz lookalike, Veronica laughing by the fountain, Veronica drinking coffee- the pictures were endless. Sometimes if he truly hated himself, he let himself down an entire bottle of scotch before daydreaming of their adventures together. He figured between his lucid dreams and the surveillance photographs he had enough wank material to last him centuries. But then again he never allowed himself to touch her even in his fantasies.

It always ended in tears.

"You know what Ronnie? I hate you. I fucking hate you. I hope you're having fun in your fucked up normal life, and I hope I never have to fucking see you again."

That was message 1072 if he had to be honest with himself. Every single moment seemed to remind him of Veronica or his life with Veronica, and every single time he called her, he left a message. He in fact considered it a success if he went an entire day without calling her. Still, Vinnie had attested to the fact that the number remained the same, and considering that her mailbox never rejected any of his messages, he could only assume that she was either listening to his messages or deleting them. Either way, it cheered him tremendously to know that he was still a part of her life.

Year Three

"Happy Thanksgiving Ronnie!"

Logan had taken to leaving calmer messages, even if he still called her Ronnie. And he only called her Ronnie when he hated her. Truth be told, he was doing pretty well now that he had hightailed it out of Neptune. He didn't think he would be missed, and he wasn't save for Dick, who readily agreed to fly out to him whenever possible.

He registered as one Mr. Dick Smith because well the Dick jokes were endless, and Smith was a hard trace. He barely called Veronica any more, and when he did, he left soft and impersonal messages. Happy Thanksgiving. Merry Christmas. Happy Birthday.

Never I love you. I miss you. I miss you so fucking badly that it feels like someone tore my heart out.

Nope. He was doing well.

Year Four.

He had gone a whole year without calling Veronica. He was pretty goddamn proud of the fact that he as Dick Smith was an A student in a monogamous relationship with one very lovely Stacy McCormack. Stacy reminded him of Hannah- she's all soft smiles and innocence unless they're in a tickling contest and she doesn't have unrealistic expectations of him. He doesn't flirt with other girls since it brings a sad look to her face, and she doesn't ask him questions about his past. In fact, when he shut off the TV while it was a playing a repeat of the Tinseltown Diaries, she had readily turned to him with kisses and hugs.

Yep, it was best that Stacy didn't know and it was best that he didn't call Veronica.

Year Five.

They say that the first year is the hardest when you lose someone, but truthfully it's the fifth. You wake up one day and double over in pain when you all of a sudden realize that it's been five fucking years since you've heard or seen the love of your life. Logan who normally would have chewed off his hand rather than grovel found himself calling Veronica in the early hours of the morning. "Hey," he said softly into the phone not wanting to wake Stacy. "It's me. I just wanted to say…"

Stacy seemed to wake up, her eyes full of concern and Logan smiled wanly. "Nothing. Forget it. Good night." He cuddled into her, hiding his eyes that threatened to spill with tears. He wondered if there was an AA equivalent of getting over your ex.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice gravelly from sleep.

And he couldn't stop the tears anymore.

Year Six.

He's back to being Logan Echolls. Not because he was outed and definitely not because Dick Smith wasn't the best pseudonym ever but because Stacy asked. He told her everything starting from Lilly half expecting her to spit on his face. But she had hugged him tight and told him she loved him. Suddenly life didn't seem so hard anymore. Veronica wasn't the only woman for him, and somehow it seemed that the universe was giving him a second chance.

Still when the sight of a petite blonde head causes backflips in his stomach, Logan knows it's going to be an issue. So he calls her half hoping that she picks up and half hoping that she doesn't.

'Hey Ronnie! I just wanted to let you know that I'm all right. I met this girl, and I'm uh… I'm about to propose, so if you …I don't know. I guess if you ever wanted to reach out to me, now would be a good time."

She never called back.

Year Seven

Life is good because he hardly thinks of Veronica anymore. Instead he spends his time cuddling puppies, writing bitingly honest reviews of movies, gardening (yes there's nothing more masculine than getting your hands dirty), and making love to his beautiful fiancée. Stacy was the perfect addition to his life. She had cried tears of joy when he proposed and the three carat solitaire glinted in her finger as she poured him a tall glass of pink lemonade.

Logan pressed an open mouthed kiss to her neck to thank her for the refreshment and couldn't quite believe how normal his life was turning out to be. He was pretty sure that he was escaping the Echolls curse.

But of course the curse was far stronger than he had ever imagined for within a few days of his newly discovered domestic bliss came news of Keith Mars' heart attack.

He called Veronica 22 times that night, worried sick as to what this would do to her. He almost hopped on the next flight out when Vinnie called to say it was a false alarm. He barely registered what was going on when Stacy came up to him with those sad eyes and packed bags.

She knew. And this time she didn't want to stay either.

Year Eight.

He was back at Neptune having learned yet another valuable life lesson(s). Don't keep tabs on your ex-girlfriend and her dad unless you want your carefully constructed life to self-destruct itself in approximately four hours. And always relieve Vinnie Van Lowe of his duties because there was nothing Vinnie liked more than being on the Echolls payroll.

He wished he missed Stacy more but he didn't and there was no point pretending that he did. She was part of Dick Smith's life and it was probably for the best that she stayed away from Logan Echolls.

Dick Casablancas, on the other hand was ecstatic at his return and threw around seven parties in his honor. And as expected, Logan got shit faced every single time, prompting him to make that dreaded call.

"Ronnie!" He drawled into the phone, his voice caressing her name. "Guess what? I'm all yours again."

He remembered none of it the next morning but Dick definitely did, and Dick was not about to let the 09er kryptonite get near his only friend yet again. So he set Logan up with this therapist that he once banged, and despite all signs pointing towards yet another tragedy, things seemed to be looking up.

Dr. Hills encouraged him to talk over his feelings and write in his "dear veronica" diary. Logan had initially laughed at the suggestion; almost affronted by the fact that this head-shrinking quack seemed to think this was a viable option, but what the hell. He would do anything to get rid of her.

Year Nine

This was his year. He could feel it in his bones. He never looked better, he never felt better. The dark cloud that was Veronica Mars had finally begun to dissipate. He liked diary Veronica because she wasn't judgmental. She wasn't rude. She was equally witty seeing as he constructed her replies in his head. She was perfectly perfect. Just what he needed.

He had taken to playing the dating game again. He briefly toyed with the idea of calling Stacy again, but brushed aside the idea almost as soon as he stumbled upon it. He had even considered going to the ten year high school reunion because, well because there were bound to be chicks who wanted a piece of him, and maybe a little because Veronica might possibly be around.

He wanted to show her that he was different. He had changed, and she had missed her chance. IT was supposed to be his opportunity to throw his success in her face. This time, it would be HER calling him to take her back.

Of course he had underestimated the Echolls curse once again as he found himself accused of murder. Great. And this time it actually seemed like they had something on him. Annoyed, and beyond humiliated he made the one call that he vowed he wasn't going to make. Voicemail again; what was new?

"Veronica," he said, drawing out her name. "I need your help." He left a halfhearted message knowing full well that nothing was going to change. He had begged, pleaded, cried, bargained, and screamed through that phone. She had never once called back, and she surely wasn't going to reply to his one line message.

Except no sooner than he had thrown his phone across the bed, the screen lit up once more. His eyes roved upon a picture he had lovingly snapped while she had stuffed her face with Chinese take out, the words, "Veronica Mars," blinking in bright green. His stomach dropped, his throat closed and his hands shook as he rushed to pick up.

"Hey," he managed to squeak while trying to still his heart.

Of course she would call when he needed help.