She's the First In Line At The Party, She's The First In Line At The Club

Summary: In the aftermath of Oscar's death, Josslyn finds an unhealthy method to deal with the pain inside.

A/N: This is kind of heavier than other fics of the series in that it deals with self harm.

This will probably be a three shot.

Part One

Oscar never did wake up from his coma after that night and after a couple of days, he died. Josslyn had been by his side and she could still remember feeling his soul leave his body even months later. And she'd been dealing, she had. Cam and Trina had shown her their support and she knew they were both hurting in their own right. She, Drew, and Kim had leaned on each other as well. And she'd spoken to Monica multiple times.

Sure, her way of dealing may not be the best way, but it was her own. It took her mind off of the pain deep inside her very soul, the pain that encompassed her heart. Her mother and friends obviously didn't think so, though since they'd dragged her to group therapy upon realizing what she was doing. It was bullshit in her opinion. It's not like she was slicing open her wrists or eating pills as if they were candy. She was just playing volleyball a little rough and kissing guys.

So here she sat, scowling as she slumped in one of the chairs in the circle listening to people tell their stories. She felt bad for the other teens surrounding her, but she wasn't like them. She wasn't cutting herself or starving or burning herself. How could what she did be compared?

The boy beside of her suddenly sat up in his seat and began to speak. "I used to get in fights a lot. I was always so angry about everything and wanted to feel something other than that. For some reason, getting in fights helped. I guess it was easier to deal with the physical pain than the pain I felt inside. Or maybe it's because I was in control of this pain."

Josslyn froze at that and her eyes widened. She turned her head to the boy, studying his profile carefully. He was staring down at his scuffed up sneakers, voice low and deep. His admission rang close to home with her as much as she didn't want to admit it. That was why she'd played volleyball rough and why she'd taken to going to parties to lose herself in the guys she met there. Anything to get her mind off of the pain she was feeling and the memory of Oscar on the breathing tube that haunted her. And that was something she could control when things were falling apart. She swallowed the lump in her throat and shifted restlessly in her seat. Of everybody else's, this quiet boy's story was the most like hers and it was terrifying to hear out loud.

He turned his head slightly to look at her, seemingly feeling Josslyn's eyes on him. His eyes were dark and penetrating.

She looked away and bit her lip. Something about his gaze made her think that he could see right through her.

For the duration of the group therapy, Josslyn didn't pay much attention and when it was time to leave, she was the first one out the door. She didn't even hear the boy behind her until he grabbed her arm and turned her around.

The boy who'd spoken during therapy, who'd sat beside her was in front of her, a drawing pad and pen tucked under one arm. He lowered the hand he'd turned her with and spoke, "You really don't like therapy, do you?"

Her arms crossed over her chest and she glared up at him. "I just don't think I need it. It's stupid that my mother and friends convinced me to come here. I'm not doing anything those other kids are doing."

He laughed. "That's what I used to think too." His lips quirked up. "The way you were looking at me...I think you related to what I said."

Josslyn scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Well you'd be wrong." She hissed at him. "I don't need this group. I don't need help!" She whirled back around intent on getting away from this boy who seemed to know way too much about her.

When she got home, she glared daggers at her mother. She was pissed and it felt so good to feel something other than pain. "That whole thing was bullshit!" She spat out, embers burning in her blue eyes. "I don't know why you sent me there but I sure as hell am not going back!" With that, she ran up the stairs and to her room, slamming the door shut. She twisted the ring on her left hand, the way she did whenever things got to be too much and then threw herself across her bed. She sat up to shrug out of her jacket and tossed it on the floor, not noticing the piece of paper that slipped out of one of the pockets as she fell back onto her pillows.

Adrian Rodriguez sighed as he shut the door to his house, smell of garlics and onions infiltrating his nose. His mother, Rebecca stepped out from the kitchen and gave him a small smile.

"How was therapy, mi hijo?" She asked of him, hands moving to brush the fringe off of his forehead, soft eyes on him.

He bit his lip, wondering if he should tell her about the girl. "It was okay. There's a new girl in therapy. She reminds me a lot of me." He confessed as he went to the kitchen to help his mother finish the cooking. And it was true. She really did remind him of himself. All that pain and anger that seemed to consume her. He'd felt it himself. He'd been just as pissed when his mother had sent him to therapy.

His mother's eyes widened sympathetically. "That poor girl. Did you try to talk to her?" She asked as she went back to stir the contents of the pot on the stove.

Adrian shrugged. "I did, but she didn't want to listen to me. She's pissed at the world and I don't blame her. I know what she went through. It's talked about all over school." And it was the truth. Everyone knew about poor Josslyn Jacks who's boyfriend died. Port Charles wasn't a big town and people talked which also meant that the things Josslyn did to erase the pain also weren't secret.

"Well I can't say I blame the poor girl for not wanting to talk. I know how it is considering you went through it. The only thing I can truly suggest is just letting that girl know that she can trust you."

Her son smiled at that and moved over to the stove to lean down and kiss her cheek. "Thanks mom." He said before pulling away to grab plates, silverware, and glasses. In the back of his mind, he hoped that Josslyn would be willing to talk to him at some point.