A/N: Hello! This is the story I promised in the fifth extra of my "Happy Birthday Extras" story (I don't know how many people actually read those but it's okay.) This is canon with my story "Happy Birthday", but it's kind of a prequel (set after Jude leaves in London Calling) and has none of my original characters in it, so you don't need to read that story to get this one.
Clarity is a song by Zedd feat. Foxes, and this story, while not a songfic, features lyrics from that song. I do not own those lyrics. I bought the song a few weeks ago and then found myself listening to it on repeat for 24 hours and writing this.
Rated for language. I do love me some swear words.
The sun was setting on his Friday night, and, for the first night in a long time, Tommy was not only completely sober, but fully intending to remain that way. The last few months had been... bad, to say the least.
He had actually done remarkably well at first. After the first couple of days, which had been hard, a sort of calm had come over him about the whole situation. In retrospect, it was because he was still expecting to get her back, for her to call and ask him to come with her to London. Without intending to, he had convinced himself that needing to "spread her wings" and "do it alone" meant that she would take a few weeks apart to figure out what she wanted, to get settled, and then she would call him and tell him she wanted him there.
He thought maybe he had scared her with the marriage proposal. She was barely 19, after all, and he could understand how that kind of commitment at this point in her life, especially when everything else was changing so quickly around her, could have seemed like too much. He vowed to give her space, and that, when they did reunite, he wouldn't bring up marriage again for a long time.
At first their separation felt temporary. He missed her like crazy, but he thought it wouldn't last. Nights were the hardest, when it would really hit him that she wasn't there next to him, when he'd look at her number in his cell phone and have to talk himself out of calling just to hear her voice. She would call when she was ready, and until then he could wait. He would throw himself into his work, into the music, and she would do the same, until she was ready for him to come back into her life. He had spent years waiting for her, and figured he could wait for a little while longer. He loved her more than he would have thought himself capable of loving anyone, and because of that, he could wait for her. Because of that he would never lose her forever. Right?
But days turned to weeks, and too soon the month had slipped away with no contact. The nagging fear that she was well and truly gone, that doing it alone didn't mean for now, but forever, was growing into a panic. He held it together until one night, when he looked at the calendar and saw it had been a month. An entire month. He hadn't expected to be in London right now or anything, but she hadn't even called. Not even a text message telling him she needed more time. Nothing. Maybe she was fine without him. Maybe she didn't need him. Didn't want him.
Just then, his phone rang. He picked it up frantically and looked at the number. When he didn't recognize it, he answered anyway (maybe she had needed to change her number when she had moved?) "Hello?" He sounded breathless and overeager, but he didn't care.
When the response was an automated voice asking if he wanted to buy something or other, something inside him snapped, and he cried out and threw the phone across the kitchen, shattering it against the wall. The kind of rage he hadn't felt in a long time boiled over in him and he just started blindly throwing and smashing things. He was very close to throwing a chair through the glass doors to his balcony when Kwest, who had been staying with Tommy since breaking up with Sadie, ran in.
"What the hell are you doing?!" he shouted, wrestling the chair out of Tommy's hands and setting it down. "I thought someone was breaking into the fucking loft or something! What the fuck is wrong with you, Tommy?!"
Tommy stared at Kwest's furious face for a moment, breathing heavily. "I... I don't..."
"You just thought you'd fucking destroy your kitchen for fun?! Huh? Did you decide you were bored with the dishes you have, thought you'd smash them to pieces?"
Tommy started to shake from the suddenness of the emotion and the adrenaline rush, stumbling backwards.
"Whoa!" Kwest caught his arm. "What the hell is going on? Are you alright, man? How much have you had to drink?"
"None." Tommy shook his head. "But... she's... Kwest, I think she's really gone."
"What?" Kwest looked confused very briefly before figuring it out. His face fell. "Oh, holy shit. This is about Jude?"
"It's been a month, man. A month, as of yesterday. I thought she'd at least have called or something, but it's been a month and she... Kwest, she can't really be gone."
"Holy shit," Kwest muttered again. "I thought you were taking this too well."
"You don't get it," Tommy said, looking frantic. "You don't get it, man, I think she actually left me."
"She's in London," Kwest said carefully, looking at Tommy sympathetically. "You said she gave you the ring back. I was at that concert, T... She said she needed to go alone. She told you to let her go."
"I know what she fucking said!" Tommy shouted.
"Okay!" Kwest said quickly. "Alright, Tommy, okay! I'm just saying I thought you knew. I thought you got it when she said goodbye."
"I knew she needed to get away, Kwest. Away from me, even, but what if she's never coming back? What if I've really lost her? For good? Forever?" He looked panicked.
"Holy fucking shit," Kwest muttered to himself.
"I need her. You don't get it, you don't understand, man, I need her. I love her. She's... she's Jude." His voice cracked on her name. "She can't be gone!" He shouted the words, pulled away, and grabbed another glass from the counter.
"No!" Kwest shouted, grabbing Tommy's arms again, this time shoving Tommy against the wall with his arm when he tried to fight back. The shock of his back hitting the wall stunned him just enough to snap him out of it. Kwest took the glass from him. "Tommy, you don't get to throw any more of your shit!"
"Okay, alright."
"I am fucking serious."
Tommy held up both of his hands in surrender. "I know, man! Just let me go, okay?" Kwest took his arm off Tommy's chest, taking a step back. Tommy still looked distraught. "You think she's really gone?"
"Hey." Kwest clapped a hand on Tommy's back. "T, you don't need Jude." The words just made Tommy feel worse. Those were words you'd say to a friend who was going through a breakup, and that couldn't be what this was. Kwest saw his reaction and sighed. "You don't. Look, I know you think she's the one. But man, she's 19."
"I practically fell in love with her when she was 15. Age..."
"Yeah, yeah, age is just a number. Whatever. My point is, you've been doing this dance with her since she was basically a kid. You've both been dealing with this drama ever since. You didn't see her when she got back from New Brunswick. The girl was messed up. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep, she ruined an album… All I'm saying is, when she says she needs to get away from it, when she says she wants to start over and not take all of that shit with her, I think you need to believe her."
"You're saying I'm not good enough for Jude." Tommy was so stunned and hurt that he didn't even get angry.
"No! Holy shit, no! I'm saying you're not good for her. And not even that, because it's not your fault. The relationship isn't good for her. It's not good for you either, T. You don't need her."
"But I love her. I love her, man. So fucking much. You don't get it."
"I don't get it?" Kwest looked angry now. "You're telling me I don't get it? Do you know where I was just now?"
Tommy blinked. "What?"
"I was at G Major, man. I went to get some mic cables and shit I bought a few years ago and forgot I left in Studio C way back when I was working with Patsy. When I found them, I saw that D had written 'property of G Major' all over them, so I went to his office to let him know I wasn't his property anymore, and do you know what I fucking saw?"
"Oh no." Tommy had an idea of where this was going.
"Sadie."
"Shit."
"Did you know she's sleeping with Darius now?"
"I thought they might be. Shit, Kwest, I'm sorry."
"In his fucking office. On his goddamn desk. How does she leave me for our boss?"
"That's fucked up, man. I'm really sorry."
"The point is, I loved her."
"Yeah, I know you did."
"No, Tommy, you don't get it. I love her. All I ever did was love her. So fucking much. And it wasn't enough. So you don't get to tell me I don't understand. Loving a woman does not mean you get to keep her, okay? If it's not right, it's not right."
"But how can it not be right?" Tommy looked desperately at his best friend. "After everything, how can it not be right?"
"I don't know, man," Kwest sighed. "I wish I did." Tommy felt like he was about to lose it again, and Kwest saw it. "What do you want to do, T?" Tommy opened his mouth to speak, and Kwest cut him off. "Besides call her, or go after her." Tommy clenched his fists at his sides and Kwest jumped in again, quickly. "You can't destroy your kitchen anymore either."
"I want none of this to be happening. I don't want to have to miss her anymore."
Kwest thought for a moment, then sighed. "Scotch."
"What?"
"Hasn't that always been your drink of choice for shit like this?"
There had never been shit like this, Tommy thought. He had never lost anyone this important before. But he just nodded.
Kwest had been pretty messed up, too, at first. Not quite as bad as Tommy, but the Darius thing really got to him. Gradually, though, Kwest started to get better. He received a letter one day from Portia, and corresponding with her seemed to help. In another couple weeks, Jamie offered him a job producing at NBR. He'd forgiven Kwest completely for the Blu and Paegan Smith stuff, and said he would never pass up a talent like Kwest if he could have it. Kwest took the job gladly, his depression lifting as he got back to producing. Tommy, meanwhile, was becoming increasingly easy to set off at work, and his production quality was declining slowly but steadily. At night he drank and wrote songs. He sat at the keyboard and filled whole notebooks with lyrics. Most of them were objectively pretty bad, but some weren't. He was vaguely aware that he was actually writing some decent music.
"At least he's writing again. That's something," he heard Kwest telling Jamie one day from the other room.
"She really messed him up, didn't she?" was Jamie's response. "Huh. I never thought I'd be feeling this bad for Quincy, of all people."
Things came to a head after another two months had passed. It had been nearly four months at this point, and Kwest had actually gone on a date the other night. Tommy had gone in to work to record with that little shit Milo, and Sadie had greeted him when he walked in. He stopped her in the hallway.
"Sadie, can I ask you something?" Sadie looked wary, but nodded. He hesitated, then asked, "How is she?" There were a thousand questions implied underneath the one he asked. Is she happy? Does she miss me? Is she ever coming back? Is there someone else?
Sadie didn't have to ask who he was referring to. She sighed. Tommy pushed harder. "Sadie, it's a simple question." He knew it was anything but simple, and Sadie knew it too.
"She's releasing an album in two weeks," Sadie answered.
"I know that." An album in four months. How much would you have to work to finish an album that fast? Did that mean she was doing well? Was she was working so much because she loved her new label (or her new producer?) so much, or did it mean she was miserable and trying to distract herself? Tommy knew Jude, and he thought it was probably the latter, but he wasn't sure if that was just wishful thinking. "I'm not asking about her music, I'm asking about her. How is she doing? Is she–"
"She's fine, Tom." Sadie cut him off.
"But is she–"
"She's fine!"
"Fine?" What did that even mean fine?
"She's doing fine without you." Sadie said it coldly, and it felt like a slap in the face.
"Oh."
Sadie sighed, looking guilty. "Wait, Tommy, I didn't mean to..."
"No." He shook his head. "No, that's good. That's great." He plastered a fake smile on his face. "I'm glad. Tell her hi for me." He winced. "Or don't, I guess. That's fine."
"I'm sorry, but it's been months. She's..."
"She moved on. I get it. It's fine. Great. Perfect. I have to go." He turned and walked quickly away, hearing Sadie mutter, "Dammit," from behind him.
As he sat at the sound board and Milo played, Tommy couldn't get Sadie's words out of his head. She was fine. She was doing well without him. She was probably on top of the world right now. New country, new label, new album... New guy? The thought was sickening, unbearable, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it. He had barely been able to look at another girl since she left, but Jude might be with someone else. Another man could be kissing her right now. Touching her. Oh God.
Milo had stopped playing. "Are you even listening?" he protested in Tommy's headphones.
Tommy looked up with a scowl. "How about you worry more about giving me something worth listening to."
"Bullshit," Milo snarled. "This song is a hundred times better than anything you ever did."
"I'm going to need you to cut the attitude, Instant Star. You're dragging tempo, your chord progression on the bridge is completely wrong, and you're so flat you're hurting my ears. Did you ever even learn to tune a guitar?"
"Whatever, Quincy." He sneered. "Everyone knows you're burning out."
Tommy stood up. "Out," he commanded, with barely controlled rage.
"You're pathetic," Milo laughed.
"Get out!" Tommy shouted.
"As if you weren't a complete washout to begin with, Little Tommy Q. Now that Jude left you, all you do is mope around. It's been months, for God's sake. Get over it."
"Don't you DARE talk to me about her!" he roared.
"Did she break your wittle heart? Oh, poor baby." He mocked, sticking out his lower lip.
Tommy burst through the door and screamed, "Get out of this studio right now, before I break your fucking face!"
Milo laughed at him again. "Jude Harrison is a mediocre musician, she is beyond mediocre in bed, and even she didn't want y–."
Tommy lunged forward, grabbed the guitar from Milo's hands, and sent it flying into the glass wall to the booth. The wood of the guitar splintered and the inside pane of the soundproofed glass shattered. Milo finally looked scared, and he tried to scramble off his stool and out the door, but Tommy grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shoved him against the wall, arm across his throat. He pulled his fist back to slam it into the little bastard's face, but strong arms grabbed him and pulled him away, twisting his arm behind his back. Tommy shouted, "Get the fuck off of me!" and thrashed around trying to break free, but Darius held him firmly.
Sadie appeared in front of him, looking scared. "Tommy, you have to calm down, okay? Breathe."
She looked strangely like her sister when she said it, and it brought Tommy back down. He did as she said, and took a few deep breaths. It helped. "Okay. Okay, I'm fine, D. I'm good." Darius started to release him.
"He's completely fucking lost it!" Milo protested. Darius tightened his grip on Tommy again preemptively, but it wasn't necessary.
"You!" Sadie shouted at Milo. "Get the hell out of here! What is wrong with you?"
"Me?!" Milo cried incredulously.
"Out!" She pointed at the door, and Milo obeyed. "You can let him go, Darius," Sadie sighed, and Darius released his hold.
Tommy shook him off, putting a hand up and trying to stretch out the shoulder of the arm Darius had twisted behind his back. "Ow. Dammit."
"You'd rather I let you kill him?" Darius was glaring at him.
"I wasn't going to!" he protested. "But you didn't hear the shit he was saying, D. Milo's–"
"I know how he is, T! I'm not stupid. I know he provoked you. He probably even deserved to get his ass kicked. But he's your artist." He looked at the window. "Well, he was your artist. And that," Darius pointed at the shattered glass, "is my property. That is my MONEY you just smashed to pieces there!" He was shouting now. "I have been cleaning up this kind of shit from you for years now, and I'm sick of it!"
Sadie put a gentle hand on Darius's shoulder and murmured, "Hey, let me talk to him, alright? You should go talk to Milo."
Darius glared at Tommy for a moment longer before nodding at Sadie and then saying, "You will meet me in my office in an hour to discuss what we're going to do about this, T."
Tommy sighed. "Yeah, fine."
"That's 12:45. Don't you dare think about not showing up."
"I got it, D!"
"Good." He made a point of storming out of the studio. When he was gone, Sadie just stared at Tommy sadly.
"Stop looking at me like that," Tommy groaned.
"I know how much you loved my sister, and I know how much she hurt you," she said quietly.
"Loved?" he whispered.
"But it's been almost four months."
He nodded. "I'm aware."
"Tommy..." Sadie sighed.
"Sadie, stop! I don't want to hear this from you, okay? I don't want to hear how well she's doing or how–"
"Damn," came a voice from behind Tommy. He turned to see Kwest standing in the doorway to the studio, looking half-horrified, half-impressed.
"Kwest?" Tommy looked confused.
"I texted him after our conversation earlier," Sadie said quietly. And then, to Kwest, "You got here fast."
Kwest nodded. "I was in the neighborhood. With Jamie and Zeppelin. We're looking at studio space. Thinking about expanding."
"I heard you were working at NBR." Sadie smiled. "I think that's really great, Kwest. I'm so happy for–"
"Sadie, don't. Not right now," Kwest cut her off, gently. Sadie sighed and looked down at the floor. Kwest turned to Tommy, raising his eyebrows. "You busted another window? Didn't you do that with Spiederman once?"
Tommy winced at the memory. "Yeah. But it was Milo. He was talking shit about me, about her, and I lost it."
Kwest made a face. "Ugh. Last year's Instant Star Milo? Fuck that guy. I always hated him." Sadie laughed, and Tommy actually smiled a little, briefly. Kwest looked sad again. "But this shit has to stop, Tommy. You know that, right?"
"What shit?! The things that asshole was saying, you'd have put his head through that window."
"I'm not talking about the window. I'm not even talking about the mirror in your bathroom, or the three phones you've busted, or half of our dishes, or the hole you put in the living room wall." He ignored Sadie's sharp intake of breath. "It's more than just breaking stuff, man. You're not okay." Tommy hung his head. "When I came home last week, and you were passed out on the couch, I was scared for a second that you were dead. I thought 'oh God. I left him alone, and he choked to death on his own puke.'"
"Gross, man!" Tommy protested.
"Listen to me, Tom!" Kwest grabbed his arm. "I know you love Jude. I know it sucks that she left. I get it. But it's been months. You need to pull it together, or I will force you to get professional help."
"Come on, Kwest." Tommy rolled his eyes.
"Hey! I'm serious. You've been my best friend for twelve years. You're like my brother. I will not watch you kill yourself." Kwest, who was still holding on to Tommy's arm, was looking at him with such earnest concern that he found himself at a loss for words. "Are you hearing me?" Kwest asked, shaking him.
"Yeah," Tommy said quietly. "Yeah, Kwest. I hear you."
"Good." Kwest let Tommy's arm go. Sadie had her hand over her mouth, and there were tears in her eyes.
"How do I just let her go?" Tommy asked quietly after a long moment.
"I think..." Sadie started, then trailed off. When no one protested to her contributing, she continued, "I think you've idealized your relationship with her too much."
"I haven't–"
"You have, Tommy," she insisted. "I know because she used to do it too. You think that the fact that you were so in love means your relationship was right, but it doesn't."
"I never said we were perfect!" he protested.
"How many times did you get hurt?" Sadie asked quietly. "Both of you. How many times did it end in heartbreak?"
"Love isn't perfect!"
"It's not about perfection! My sister is 19, Tommy. She's been in love with you since she was 15, and you've gotten together and broken up so many times I don't think I can count. She needed to get away from that, and you do too. It wasn't healthy. You know it wasn't. It was insanity. You know you're both better off. That is how you let her go."
"It's what I've been saying, T," Kwest said gently.
If our relationship was insanity, how come she was the only one to ever make me feel sane? Tommy thought, but didn't say. Instead he sighed and said, "Yeah. I get it. She's better off."
"You both are, Tommy," Sadie said. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but you are, okay?"
"Okay."
"You need to start trying to move on," Kwest added. "But if you can't do that, you at least need to lay off the drinking. I need you to promise me, yeah?"
"Yeah, Kwest." He looked his best friend in the eye. "I promise."
"Alright. It'll get better, T."
"Yeah. I know. Thanks."
"Any time." Kwest clapped Tommy on the shoulder.
"It'll be okay, Tom." Sadie reached out to pull him into a quick hug.
The scent of her perfume almost overcame the way she smelled the same as her sister.
.
In Tommy's subsequent conversation with Darius, he'd been offered a week off to pull it together, followed by a stint judging World Instant Star in South America and then Australia. Even though it was posed as a suggestion, Tommy knew Darius well enough to know this wasn't optional. And although the thought of judging World Instant Star was not a pleasant one, Darius wasn't wrong with the assertion that Tommy needed to get away from here, away from the loft and the studio and the city where Jude had left so many memories. Because of that, Tommy was actually a little glad to take the offer.
In keeping with his promise to Kwest, he hadn't been drunk in nearly a week, and he hadn't broken anything either. Instead, he was sitting at the piano working on a new song.
'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need
Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why
If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?
If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?
Hmm. That was good. Almost surprisingly so. The verse still needed work, but the hook was solid. He had just started to play again, trying out a slightly different chord progression for the verse, when his phone rang. It's not her, Tom, he reprimanded himself almost out of habit as he picked up the cell phone.
A jolt ran through him when he saw the number. Because it was her. He blinked in disbelief at her name on the screen. Jude was calling him. It took him a moment to recover from the shock enough to answer, and he worried for a second that he'd missed her when she didn't say anything right away.
"Jude? Is that you? Are you there?"
"Hey." Her voice was soft, but it was her. Really her. Tommy felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.
"Hey," he responded, not knowing what else to say.
"It's... It's good to hear your voice again, Tommy."
Tommy laughed breathlessly at that. His name on her lips sent a shiver up his spine. "I wasn't sure I'd ever hear from you again. I didn't think you would ever call."
"Oh," was her only reply.
After a long moment, he asked tentatively, "Why... why did you call, Jude?" Saying her name felt odd.
"I... We wrapped production on my album twenty minutes ago."
Tommy gave a long whistle. "You made an entire album in less than four months, Harrison? I don't know whether to be impressed or worried."
She laughed, and it was strange to hear the sound out loud instead of in his head. "I basically locked myself in the studio 24 hours a day. I don't really understand how I did it either, to be honest. But it's good. The album, I mean. I think it's good. I'm just hoping it doesn't flop. I'm worried it's secretly horrible, and I'm totally deluding myself into thinking I can do this."
"New albums always feel that way. I'm sure it's incredible," he said quietly. "You're an amazing musician, girl."
"I owe that to you, Tommy."
"You... called to let me know you wrapped production?"
"I called because... it's my first album without you. It feels, I don't know, odd, not having you with me for this."
My first album without you. Did that imply more albums without him to come? Tommy chastised himself for the question. Of course it did. They were over, really done this time, and he was on his way to accepting that, remember?
"I miss..." All the things Jude wanted so badly to say but couldn't ran through her head in that pause. I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I miss you and I need you back. I miss you, please come to London. "working with you." Crap. That was so not what she wanted to say, but she had made this decision. She had broken up with him and moved across the ocean. She had given him the ring back. She had decided to do this alone, and now she needed to stick with it. To break down and go back on that decision would be unfair to herself, and to Tommy.
"I miss working with you, too, Jude." I miss everything about you. I'm not myself when you're not here. I still dream about you. I miss you, please tell me you miss me too. God, I miss you. Please, please take me back. "More than you know."
"How have you been?"
Tommy hesitated. He couldn't tell her the truth. "I've been okay, I guess," he answered tentatively. "I, uh... I leave for South America on Sunday. World Instant Star."
"You're judging?" Jude sounded surprised.
"Yeah."
"Any chance you'll come to England?" She asked the question with a forced casualness that rang horribly false to her own ears.
"Um... Darius has me doing South America and then Australia. So no, I don't think so. Not with Instant Star, anyway." Not unless you ask me. Please ask me.
"Too bad."
"Is it?" Did that mean she wanted him there?
"London's great, I mean," Jude added quickly. "You'd like it here."
His heart plummeted. "Uh, yeah, I've been. More than once."
Jude winced at how stupid she sounded. "Oh, right. Of course you have. I knew that."
The pain in Tommy's chest was multiplying tenfold every beat of silence, but he couldn't think of anything to say that didn't involve begging her to take him back. "Jude," he said, just to say her name again.
"Yes?" She could feel herself slowly losing it, her composure unravelling. Tears pricked at the back of her nose.
"Ah, um... Congrats on your album. I can't wait to hear it."
They were parting words, and Jude was too close to tears to keep the conversation going, though she didn't want to hang up. "Well, it was nice to talk to you again. I really hope you like the album."
Her voice sounded choked, like she was holding back tears. Or was he imagining it? Projecting his own distress onto her? "I'm... Yeah, I'm sure I will."
"I lo–" Shit! "Sorry, sorry. Force of habit." She tried to laugh, but it came out practically a sob.
She was starting to cry, he thought. He couldn't figure out what to make of it, or of the word he thought she had almost said. "Okay," he said quietly, suddenly immensely confused. "I... Yeah. Bye, Jude."
"Bye." She whispered the last word, and they both spent an extra moment holding the phones to their ears in silence, trying to will themselves or the other to say something, say anything, to keep them from losing each other again. But neither did speak, and Jude finally hung up as the tears started to really pour down her face, leaving Tommy in stunned silence. Even if that conversation had proven that Jude was missing him too, at least a little, it had been a far cry from any sort of reunion. If anything, the conversation had seemed even more final, like something that could very well be the last time they would ever speak.
Maybe he did need a drink after all.
A/N: This is a lot longer than most of the non-chaptered stuff I write, because I intended to write just the phone call and ended up writing four months of story in addition to that. Oops.
Thank you for reading, and I verily hope you enjoyed it :)
(Allow me to say preemptively, don't comment "Please continue!" because Happy Birthday essentially is the continuation of this story, so this one is complete. But if you'd like a continuation please do read that!)