author's note: Hey, there :) It's been a while since I wrote for this fandom. If you read one of my other F29Down fics, please go to my profile page and vote on the poll! It's urgent, loves. Anyway, I was tired of beating down on Melissa. She's not a weakling; she's softhearted.

disclaimer: I don't own Flight 29 Down. Proof of this: I don't know who actually does own it ;)

chapter 1 notes: title- "you want to die"; tag- "like a thousand different stories on a thousand different nights, all missing the happily ever after"; additional- see above, then review ;)

You have a feeling you don't fit in with everyone else.

.

"Stop staring at your phone," she tells you, smacking loudly on a piece of gum. You wince. You have sensitive hearing, but she doesn't need to know that. She's overbearing enough already.

"I have to," you say. "I can't help it. He did promise." You repeat the words in your mind, hoping that repetition will make them come true. Genies and magic lamps just don't work in your world.

"He didn't promise to call you the second you got home from the plane. It's not like anyone really expected to be rescued, you know. Plus, what makes you think he even has a cell phone? Isn't he just out of jail? A delinquent, right? Are you sure he lives with his parents? Why would he have a-"

You silence her with one look. "It's funny how you've forgotten all the good things he's done for us. You used to be his fan, too, remember? Now he's a delinquent again?"

"Hey. Since when did you get an attitude?" she questions with narrowed eyes. You know she feels insulted by you. You also know she's trying to brush away everything you've just said. The truth is, you've always had an attitude. But you have an even greater abundance of self control, and your mother says that one day, a boy will appreciate that in you.

The truth is, you want that boy to be Jackson.

You have a sinking feeling that he's not.

.

You know a secret about the girl who you consider your only female best friend. You know a secret that she's kept from everyone. It's a terrible secret, and you don't think you'll be able to live a moment without remembering it. It involves him and her, together, and it honestly wouldn't surprise you that much if it weren't for the fact that she's supposed to be another's.

And you wish he was yours.

.

You're laying on her bed, still staring at your phone, when her house phone rings. She freezes like a deer caught in headlights, and you want to die because you're afraid of who's calling. She shoots you a little smile, says something about the phone in her room not working, and runs downstairs. You can hear her answer the phone with a falsely chirpy "Hello?", and you want to believe her façade. It would just make everything easier.

You can't.

You do something that no one else would expect of you. You get off of her bed and walk to the landline in her room.

You pick it up with shaking fingers.

You listen.

You die.

.

"Jackson, maybe you should call me later. She's still over here. And she's waiting for your call," she says nervously.

"Who?" he asks, laughing.

"Melissa," she tells him.

"I'm sure she'll get over it, Day. I didn't get to call you this morning, and I only saw you at lunch today with everyone else." He pauses. "Did you really have to kiss him twice?"

"Well…" she sighs. "He was giving me these suspicious looks, so I had to make him feel better."

"When will you break up?" he persists. She sighs again.

"Well, we were together before you and I… you know. Figured it out. And I didn't want to hurt his feelings by suddenly breaking up with him. I wanna ease out of this relationship."

"How is kissing him at lunchtime going to help you ease out of this?" he asks her reasonably.

"Well… how do you plan on easing out of your situation with Taylor and Mel?" she counters.

"Taylor's a great girl, and I really don't want to hurt her. Mel's nice, too, and she's an amazing listener. Thing is… I want my girlfriend to be a little stronger. Not too needy or clingy, but not too independent. I'd want her to be working equally with me, not a damsel in distress all the time. Mel and Taylor are people I'm glad to have as friends. You… well, you qualify for the girlfriend," he ends gruffly.

"I'm… surprised."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," she says firmly. "But… I'm incredibly happy. So happy, I'm not worrying anymore. Thanks," she tells him softly.

"You're welcome," he replies.

.

They talk on forever, but you've already hung up as quietly as possible. It makes sense, always has. You've always needed him to save you and protect you. She's wanted him to be her equal.

Daley's unbelievably perfect for him. She's smart, outgoing, and organized. She's his partner, not his damsel in distress. The pieces click together in one, final realization, like curtains over a tragedy. Like Hamlet, except you're too nice to take everyone with you. Like Romeo and Juliet, but Romeo left you to die alone. Like a thousand different stories on a thousand different nights, all missing the happily ever after.

You lay back on your bed and turn off your phone.

All along, you never really were good enough, were you?

.

She walks back in with a dazed smile on her face.

"Who was it?" you ask, attempting to be normal. She snaps out of her bliss into shock, and you grimace at the effort she's making to protect you.

It sickens you. Are you really so weak that even she wants to protect you?

"So?" you prod, assuming a careless attitude. "Who was it?"

"It was N-Taylor."

You notice immediately how she switches her lie from Nathan to Taylor. You tell yourself you don't care.

"What'd she say?" you persist, rolling on your back to stare at the ceiling.

"Something about the homework, then she ranted on forever about what great friends we are."

"We?" you ask, unable to keep the sharpness out of your voice. You try to cover it up by acting indifferent.

"Yes…" she says slowly. "We. Meaning all of us, because we're so accepting of each other after suffering through this ordeal…"

She says a whole bunch of stuff, but you tune her out. You know she's just trying to butter you up for the day she'll finally tell you the truth.

You want to die.

.

There's something you absolutely hate about yourself. You hate that you never forget. You hate that you don't want to let go.

.

Wedding bells are ringing, and the bride and groom are running out the doors with bright smiles on their perfect faces. You sit in the pews alone in a quiet chapel. You close your eyes and breathe deeply, reliving every moment, every promise they'd ever broken.

He was supposed to call you.

She was supposed to be your best friend.

You were supposed to be a bridesmaid, but…

You don't mind that as much.

You can remember with vivid detail the night he proposed to her. He asked you to help him make it special. You did.

He forgot that.

You laugh hollowly. Everyone always forgot except for you.

You can still see the rings glinting on their hands, the joyful tears dripping down her cheeks, the happy glimmer in his eyes. The wedding is enough. Everything is enough.

It's alright, you think. It's finally okay. Now, 10 years later from the happier person you used to be, everything has finally settled. You cling to your memories one last time, you breathe. It's time to let go.

It's time to forget.

.

You want to die.

But you're going to live.

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