AU: Jordan/Angela. Sometimes the letters are long and headache inducing while other times she writes just a single word. But every letter, even if he can't understand half of it, speaks volumes to him as her heart breaks and bleeds out onto the papers in his hand. He needs to find her. And maybe he can save her like she saved him.
Bleak.
Everything is so fucking bleak.
It's the same thing everyday. Yellowing floors, poster covered walls, dirty windows, slamming lockers, loud students and frustrating teachers. Everyday. Each locker door smashing to a close causes him to clench his hands into a tight fist, every obnoxious, high-pitched laugh that comes spilling from some fake skank on the cheer team makes his eye twitch and every fucking teacher who has the nerve to even look at him in disgust like he's the biggest problem of them all and it would do everyone a god damn if he just up and left already.
Today was just one of those days. And for Jordan Catalano it was those days that pushed him farther than he could take.
Everyday.
"Hey Catalano!" The frosty teen turned to stare at the two approaching boys. Shane and Joey. Joey gave him a wide, perverted grin,
"Damn Jordan those chicks you had on you last night were fucking delicious. Big tits, plump lips, long legs…" Joey trailed off, his eyes glazed over remembering the two girls that had been on Jordan's arms last night at one of Tino's parties. "You had a fucking threesome dude, you have to share all the gory details, because fuck I want me some of that ass now." Jordan only rolled his eyes, but allowed an amused smirk to curl at his lips.
"They were definitely worth another round." He teased, watching in slight amusement, slight disgust as Joey's obvious imagination began to itself apparent in his pants. Shane only laughed at their horny friend,
"Dude you're going to have a boner for the rest of the day if you keep this up." But Joey was far too gone in his fantasies to care or even hear what Shane said. The brunette rolled his eyes.
"So that good eh?" Jordan only laughed.
"Better."
Shane shook his head in awe. "I don't know how you do it bro, but even the seemingly innocent or unattainable become available just for you to even look at them. I know girls who would give the world to just blow you." Jordan just smirked at his friend, shuffling his feet to open his locker only to have someone's number followed by a lipstick mark fall out on a slip of paper. Shane tossed his hands up,
"See what I'm saying? You could fuck a teacher for Christ's sake!" Shane's eyes drifted passed his shoulder and to a leggy blonde in tiny spandex shorts and crop top. "And here comes Cynthia, dude. Guess we won't be smoking together this mornin' huh?" Shane teased Jordan, both boys knowing fully well that he was about to spend the next half hour or so fucking the brains out of Cynthia in the boiler room. Shane clapped Jordan on his shoulder while Joey managed to forget his sexual fantasies to stare at the blonde's massive breasts. He let out a low whistle.
"What I won't give to be you right now man." He muttered just before Shane grabbed him and pulled him away from Jordan and his favorite fuck buddy. She smiled seductively up at him, flicking her long blonde hair off her shoulders, her smoldering eyes already telling him exactly what he wanted to hear.
"Hey bad boy." She purred as she ran a long, manicured nail down his muscular arm. Jordan only smirked in response as the two made quick time in getting into the boiler room and even faster time in removing each other's clothes. Gripping her firm ass tightly, he forcefully bent her over one of the crates, causing the blonde to gasp.
"OH! Jordan!"
Some how, some way Jordan found himself actually in English class, his absolute least favorite class. He spent the entire time staring at the clock or the big-breasted brunette two seats down from him. She turned and gave him a sultry wink.
The teacher was going on and on about something. Well, probably the book they were supposed to be reading, but honestly, fuck that shit. Removing his eyes from the brunette, he let his icy gaze sweep across the room; for once he was not asleep in this class.
Everyone was so… mundane. He used to it, he supposed, seeing as his life was entirely mundane, black and white, bleached and drugged into a hazy collage of memories and dreams he can't decipher which is which. So boring. But whatever. Once the school kicks him out and gets enough money, he'll be out of this hellhole faster than a bat out of hell.
His eyes flickered the outside windows to see only more grey. A washed out world and he wonders if there's any point to actually drinking or getting high because the world already does a damn good job blurring and fading away on its own. What's the point of all this? What's the point of living?
But when the teacher calls on him and he only answers with a blank stare, his face devoid of any emotion and his eyes like knives, he is forced to remember why he drinks and why getting high feels so damn good when disappointment flares in his English teacher's eyes.
Whatever. He thinks snidely. I need a smoke.
It's lunch and Shane and Joey aren't anywhere to be found, probably hiding behind the quad, trying to get a better look at the girl's PE class. They're playing volleyball right now. Jordan is even tempted to find them and join in on the fun of watching girls in tiny clothes get all hot and sweaty.
Very tempting.
But as appealing as that sounds, Jordan needs a little time to himself. After taking the brunette from English into the back of his car and having his way with her, he's realized he's little no time to himself to smoke and at least get a little bit out of his head if he's going to continue for the rest of the day. The rest of the day meaning skipping 5th and 6th and then going back into 7th for shop class.
Jordan swinging around the bleachers out by the football field, a cigarette already is dangling from his mouth. The brisk fall air nips at his face, carrying his smoke away and into the wind as Jordan sits down in the shadows. He takes a slow drag as he pulls out his Walkman, Nirvana's album Bleached ready to go as the opening track kicks in. Jordan allows his eyes to close and his mind to wander; his jacket, cigarette smoke and music are the only things calming him down.
An hour or so later, the teen comes to, his cerulean eyes flickering open lazily. Nirvana has long since stopped playing and his cigarette is cold on the ground. He shifts his weight before slowly rising up from the cement ground.
Groaning, as his legs protest moving and he stretches up, his back elongating and his arms reaching until they hit the bleacher seat above him. He doesn't bother to grab another cigarette; it's almost time for shop, anyways.
As he shakes the sleep from his eyes, something colorful catches his eye. He turns and stares at the bright red thing, paper maybe, flapping in the wind. Slowly he reaches over and grasps the paper, pulling it free from the metal of the bleachers that held it captive. He doesn't know why he's actually interested in this piece of paper, it's nothing new and he'd normally look on by. But yet he holds it in his hands. Maybe it's the bright color, but Jordan can feel something in his gut. Something is important about this.
It's neatly folded and there's a small circle sticker holding it together, indicating that this is a note and probably not intended for the public eye. He glances back to where he pulled it from to realize the only way it could've been stuck there was if someone put it there, meaning this note wasn't dropped.
Vaguely he wonders if this is another love note from a shy girl, who isn't as bold as Cynthia but is probably willing to get into his pants. It's too bad he doesn't read. And yet when he goes to put it back, something stops him. Biting his lip, he sets it down on the bleacher step, but doesn't make to move from it. He just stares and is only broken from the spell when the bell rings; signally that 7th is about to start. Groaning Jordan snatches the letter back up and shoves it into his pocket before heading back to the school.
The letter seems to be burning a hole in his pocket through out the entire 45-minute class. It's frustrating really, shop is one of the few things he's actually good at and bothers to show for and yet he can't concentrate because of a fucking letter in his jacket pocket that he's not even going to be able to read to begin with. Not to mention it's either a love letter that he couldn't give a shit about or it's a stupid note to someone that will make no sense to him. And did he mention he could barely read to begin with?
He's been tempted to just throw it out, especially after he gets distracted over what could possibly be in the letter and almost loses a finger. But he can't and that frustrates him more.
Jordan lets out a strangled gasp as he slices yet another finger. Fu-ck-ing hell.
Jordan makes swift time in leaving the shop class and getting out of the school, the day already weighing on him and he can't wait to just drive and escape this place and his head. Shane and Joey try and catch up to him but Jordan's in no mood to deal with them, let alone if he so much as hears another voice, another fucking word, he's going to punch a wall.
In his haste to just get to his beloved car and get the hell out of here, he doesn't notice the small teen girl who is crossing in front of him to get to her friends. By the time she notices the storming, muscular teen it's already too late as he rams his heavy body into hers. Jordan grunts, his anger flaring because of course, of fucking course, let's just add to this day shall we? He turns his eyes onto the skinny girl who is now on the ground, her knee scrapped up and bleeding and her books everywhere. He feels his anger slip a little bit when he looks at those wide, scared green eyes, but he's in too much of a mood to care or help her out.
"Watch it, whore." He snarls and shoulders on by, stepping on her Algebra textbook in the process. He doesn't have time to deal with anyone today.
He pulls out of the school parking lot at neck breaking speeds and his tires screeching at him as he races off.
He doesn't know how long he's been driving but once he notices that he's actually nearing one of his favorite places to hide. He hadn't been paying attention to where he was going, only that he had to get out and go somewhere and he smiled, glad he came here.
He was down by the old railroad tracks that run through the forest about half an hour out of Three Rivers. The trains don't run by nearly as often as they used to, now only once at 1 in the morning or 5 in the evening. The tracks are one of his favorite places to be, where he can hide and let out all of his anger and emotion and just be Jordan. He's written some of his favorite songs out here on these tracks, songs he's never bothered to show the others guys, not until they actually get a band going anyways.
He just sleeps out here and writes music and listen to the forest and when the train comes he can scream as loud as he wants and no one can hear him. It's like therapy. The very little amount of homework he's ever actually done was out here, where it's quite and he can think. Of course, homework requires reading, so that usually doesn't last long and is done very rarely.
His mother showed him this place when he was just a little boy. When the abuse and alcohol became too much and she picked him up and took him out and they watched the stars and told each other stories and she sang for him. It's the only place he can go where he feels like she's still there. Back in a time where maybe it wasn't great, his father's abuse was far worse back then, but she was there and he actually felt loved. He'd remember her encouragement when he struggled to read simple children's books, her awe when he showed her the small little poem he wrote for her on Mother's Day. He remembered being happy, if only for just an hour a week. But then she left and he didn't come back to this place until he stole someone's bike and rode out here for an hour or so, with his acoustic strapped to his back and tears streaming down his face. That was 5 years ago.
He often wonders where she went. Why didn't she take him with her? When did she stop loving him?
He gave up on her returning after his father beat him into a bloody mess. He gave up crying for her. He gave up on wishes, on prayers, on hopes, and on dreams. Whoever was up there in that open sky, whoever wasn't up there, gave up on him a long time ago. And it's only a matter of time before everyone else does too. Everyone else who hasn't already given up anyways.
Instead of that scorching, frustrating feeling the letter had caused him since he picked it up, there was almost a feeling of comfort when he pulled out the red letter with a green sticker. It wasn't nearly as nice looking, as it was when he found it, the letter had been folded and crumpled and wrinkled. He liked the tired, worn out look better, though. It was much to clean.
Gentle he removed the sticker and unfolded the scarlet letter. The words blurred and moved and it almost already gave him a headache. He looked at the top, trying to figure out whom it was addressed to. He but the side of his thumb in confusion as he made out the opening three words. He wondered if he even was reading it write. This was no love letter, or a note passed between friends. He had no idea what this even was.
Dear No One.
He wrinkled his brow in confusion. What the hell did that even mean? No one? He looked at the bottom where the write, a girl perhaps, judging by the nice handwriting, signed. It was a lot easier to read her signature seeing as there wasn't much of one. It was just signed ~A xo.
So this letter wasn't addressed to anyone in particular and it wasn't signed in a way anyone could figure out who had written it. Suddenly the letter seemed to gain height in his callused hands. What does it say? He was torn between reading it, well trying to anyways, and burying it in the forest floor where no one could read it. This letter was already far more personal than any sort of love letter, that, he could tell. These words held secrets to a girl he didn't know, secrets he figured she couldn't tell anyone, secrets no one knew. He knew if he tried to read this, he would be intruding into someone else's life without knowing who's. It was a scary thought. He could throw the letter away now and forget about the whole thing. Keeping him sane and the girl's secrets safe. But…
He analyzed the first sentence, few words slowly floating into clarity as he stared.
Alone. Tired. Scared. Lonely. Listen. Story. Lost. No Control.
The letter seemed to be a kind of introduction, the girl, at least this is what he was assuming, was using the letters as a way not only writing in a diary, but also telling someone without actually having to tell someone. A way to escape, that Jordan could appreciate.
He looked at the last words, just before she signed off. Thank you.
The introduction to the story of a lonely girl.
Did this mean there were going to be more? Jordan bit the side of his thumb, suddenly almost scared for the girl. This was a daring thing she was doing, putting her secrets out there, anonymously or not, and if her letters fell into the wrong hands, they'd be the talk of the school. They might not know whom they were talking about, but she would know, and he couldn't imagine that would be a good feeling.
None of the other words or sentences were making sense. So he gave up, but the message and gravity of the letter were far too much for him to even try and forget. He groaned and tucked the letter back away.
Guess he better go check back tomorrow and make sure no one else finds the letters, especially, any of his friends or school skanks. Jordan groaned. How did this happen?
So this is an AU for Jordan and Angela. It's very angsty and some of the characters we know and love have very different situations. Or in Angela's case, things happening far sooner that they did in the series. The story will be mostly in Jordan's POV, seeing as he will be reading, or trying to, the letters and he does not know who Angela even is. Sorry if he seems out of character, this is my first time writing him.
Much love,
Emma
xo
