So this is based on Victoria Justice's post about where she thought the characters would end up, and how she thought Beck would earn a big role in a television show and break up with Jade.
I somewhat had a fit of rage with her for saying this, but thought the storyline could be interesting.
Like said, short-lived series of drabbled one-shots. Probably 4 chapters at the most.
But I promise I'll make it worth your while.
He didn't want to do this.
So why the hell was he?
Because it's the healthy thing for both of you, a condescending voice echoed within his mind. He hated that voice, commonly refered to as 'The Voice of Reason'. Because the voice was spot on. There was a very good reason for this.
"I want to talk to you," Beck Oliver arrived as he and his serious girlfriend on-and-off for a running total of six years, Jade West, strode back into their cozy little one bedroom, proceeding a celebratory dinner at the nostalgic long time agreed favorite Nozu. The celebration being his return to Los Angeles, finishing a mid season wrap up of his new show that had been filing in the city of New York.
She eased out of her trademark leather jacket and swung it on the nearby red couch, before crashing down on the comforting cushion. "What about?" She asked, her shapen eyebrow raising in response.
Beck bit his lip, and began to make his way over to his girlfriend, and claim a seat, next to her, but quickly decided better of it.
There was an undying lump in his throat, an overpowering pit in his stomach. He ran a nervous hand through his mop of hair, and concluded it was best he remained standing for this. But he was grateful she had chosen to take a seat.
His eyes shifted, involuntarily, searching for objects Jade may soon lunge at him. He subconsciously hoped the his favored lamp on the table arranged next to the couch would survive the conversation.
Jade gazed at him expectantly, and crossed her arms, as she propped her combat boot clad feet up on the coffee table. Right. He should probably say something.
"I just..." Beck swallowed, already choking on his words. He was a brilliant actor-a wiz at memorizing his lines. He could deliver them so believable. But it was true words in real life he so often had troubles with mustering. He wasn't good with words. Not like Jade. An amazing writer.
He quickly attempted to regain his composure as she narrowed her eyes at him, suspiciously.
"I can't do this anymore, Jade." He finally choked out, and instantly regretted it.
'You have to,' that damn voice returned.
The damn voice was correct. Un-fucking-fortunately.
Beck and Jade were hardly together anymore. The flame had sprung from their romance, as he resided in New York for months at a time. They were forced to arrange a schedule, in which they could call each other and take short-lived breaks from their ever busy lives to engage in tiresome conversations about how their days were, how much they missed each other, and other seemingly inconsequential items, all from opposite sides of the country. It was utterly exhausting. When they were together, they would engage in short fits of passion, and then proceed to argue over how little they saw of each other, Jade usually initiating the war, but Beck participating, nonetheless.
He could see the stress wearing on her. The ever permanent bags beneath her emerald eyes, the dark purple color reflecting off her pale skin, that appeared even more translucent than usual. Her hair appeared dry, undone, her makeup sloppy. She was thinner than she had been. His once beautiful, and although angry and seemingly bathing in darkness, and radiating girlfriend, appeared to be quite the opposite as of now. She looked run down. And just so tired.
It was all because of him.
Because he got his big break. Because he moved and her career didn't allow her to do so. Because he had to live out his dream. He owed it to himself. And she so graciously, yet cautiously, understood that and agreed to hold down the fort in Los Angeles.
He couldn't let her live her life like this. He wouldn't let her seep in depression for a good amount of the year because of him. They needed their lives to start. It shouldn't have to be this way. He was miserable to, although he attempted not to display it.
Beck flashed back to the present, and watched as she peered at him, from the couch, with increasingly sullen looking, yet beautiful eyes. "What?" She finally choked out, keeping her eyes on him. The sadness changed to fear now, and she swung her legs back to the ground, and leaned forward. "What the hell are you talking about, Beck?"
He made his way to her now, setting on the couch beside her. She rotated to face him. "I mean, this." he said, forming hand gestures towards the both of them. "It's exhausting. I'm never here. Our lives shouldn't be this way. It shouldn't be this hard. Not at twenty years old."
His eyes suddenly lingered to her wrist- and the fleshy self-inflicted scars that stained them. He quietly and quickly searched for new ones, out of habit, but found none. Jesus, how had he not thought of this? She'll be all alone here, without him.
Although he attempted to convince himself time after time that he wasn't concerned she'd commit any extreme acts in the midst of their last and most serious of break ups, his inner self knew that was a filthy lie. He constantly had texted Cat to confirm her safety, and requested the redhead to check on her. He'd probably always worry about her. But they were older now. He wasn't a seventeen year old boy anymore, and she wasn't a seventeen year old girl. She, for one, had matured sufficiently since their days of high school. And he knew-well, he hoped with every bit of himself- that she could find healthier ways to manage pain.
The tears began to prod at his eyes. Beck Oliver didn't cry. He just simply didn't. The only person who had ever withheld enough effect on him to make him cry was Jade West. He'd only ever cried over her. And it had never been her fault. Only his foolishness that had caused the sadness. He mentally kicked himself for the whole damn situation, and desperately looked within himself for there to be any other way.
Hurt spread from her irises to her whole face now, and Beck felt sick to his stomach.
"But-" Her breathing was growing increasingly heavy, and he watched as her eyes began to shine, but not from the utter brightness that had always lurked beneath their beauty, but from tears. Tears that he had caused. "We can, we can make it work." She whispered. "We always do."
Jade West was completely out of character, he realized. She had been for quite some time, at least the times he had been around. She hadn't even bothered to pick a fight with him this visit. She wasn't a force of nature like she once was. And he knew that she was simply tired. Life was taking its toll on her. The sleepless nights waiting up for his call had affected her. He wondered how often she cried herself to sleep over him, but hastily decided not to flatter himself so much.
Jade was an impeccable actress, but she wasn't acting right now. Even though he had constantly reminded her she never had to pretend with him, he knew a part of her always had, involuntarily. She was uncomfortable with letting people in. Her parents were mostly to blame for that flaw. But he'd always understood, regardless. She was broken, and he didn't mind it, because he knew he would always get the most out of her she was willing to give. And that had been more than enough for his heart to swell with undying love for the girl.
She nearly began to hyperventilate when he reached over and placed a hand on hers, while shaking his head, and murmuring. "No, babe. We can't. You know we can't. This just isn't working out."
"So that's it?!" She snapped, reappointing the inner fire he knew had been lurking beneath the surface, a rebuttal that screamed 'Jade', and made this hurt all the hurt all the more.
"Six years and nothing to show." She breathed, breaking his gaze and turning her head away.
But he lurched forward, and forced her to look at him, placing both hands on either side of her cheek.
"You and I will never be nothing." He told her. And beneath her stubbornness, she knew it was true
And she was sobbing now. This soundless cry that was of true sorrow. And it took him a minute to realize he was, as well.
Before either of them had truly realized, his head had collapsed into the crevice between her neck and shoulder, and they held each other. And then their bodies intertwined, and their clothing quickly became scarce, until it was discarded onto the floor, and they made their way to the bedroom.
The two stayed up the majority of the night talking and taking solace in the other's body, a farewell of the home they had known for so long. They talked, as well, and with that, cried, until they could no longer cry, and fell asleep within the safe confines of each other's arms.
But the morning sun eventually emerged, and Jade said in the smallest voice her lover had ever heard from her, "You should probably go."
And he did.
It had been days since she'd heard his voice.
Jade West had forced herself from her safe haven, or her bed, merely hours prior. She allowed herself a grievance, and pulled a disappearing act from the remainder of the world. But this morning-for whatever reason, she simply made the decision to halt her pathetic-ness, and emerged from her bedroom.
The apartment they'd shared naturally reeked of Be-HIM, and she fucking hated it. Every little thing reminded her of him, in some aspect, and it triggered her desire to retreat back to her bedroom. But she attempted to fight it, and journeyed to the microscopic pantry.
She should eat. She hadn't consumed much more than countless glasses of wine or whiskey in a series of days.
Although she hadn't been eating much since Beck's previous set of absences, her stomach growled with discontenment, and perhaps food would fill some type of void.
After rummaging through the cabinets for several minutes, she settled on Ramen noodles, with a disapproving sigh. She freed the uncooked noodles of the packaging, and proceeded to cook it in the microwave, not able to muster the motivation to cook her meal on the stove.
She swooped her unkept, disheveled raven colored locks into a messy ponytail, and propped herself up on the countertop, as she awaited the 'ding' of the microwave that would declare the noodles.
Jade scrolled through the series of text messages she'd received in the last few days. She hadn't performed the most efficient job of replying to any, although she'd felt guilty for disregarding Cat's.
She, idly, read through them, and swung her feet, absent mindedly. They consisted of several "Are you okay?'"s, "I'm so sorry"s, and what have you. Deciding her best friend, who only ever meant well, was possibly sick with worry for her, she hastily replied. Her thumbs drummed on the screen of her Pear Phone at a lesser of a brisk pace than they typically would, Jade finding herself bored with the task before she'd even begun.
"Sorry, Cat. Didn't see these. I will be fine. Thanks."
Forever hiding her emotions, flashing a fake smile-or more appropriately, grimace. That was the Jade West way.
She found herself emersed in her never ending thoughts before the interruption of the microwave's incessant beeping yanked her from her mind, and back to reality, and her noodles. She dropped from the counter, and slightly stumbled, as she flipped the microwave door open, and took out the noodles.
The steaming bowl burnt her hands, but she couldn't get herself to care. Setting it down on the stove, and retrieving the flavor packet, she further began to prepare the food.
But, sure enough, her eyes lurked to the picture plastered on the refrigerator door only several feet to the right. A photograph of her and Be-him, an uncanny grin resting on his perfect features, and an uncharacteristic mid-laugh smile on hers. The picture was a surprise, taken by Cat Valentine, capturing a rare moment Jade had actually indulged her friends and laughed at one of their ill-put jokes.
She'd been angry at him for selecting that picture to post on the fridge.
She'd spent far too much of her time being angry at him. And it was hardly ever deserved.
It was moments like these when she was willing to take it all back, to silence her inner pride, and, withdraw every petty argument they'd ever had, each cruel thing she'd ever said to him.
Biting down on her lip, she continued to stir the noodles, as she reviewed events that had occurred within the last several months in her head. Subconsciously, a part of her had known that when he got that part, that she'd be losing him. Some section of her had always prepared to lose him. Girls like her were hardly ever loved forever. She knew she wouldn't be an exception. Jade was all too familiar with the loss. But it was somewhat sprung on her when he received that role.
The starring role on his very own television show. The role of a lifetime. His big break. Who the hell was she to tell him not go?
He'd offered not to go, to pass it up, when it had been revealed that he would have to leave, to travel to New York to film the show. But she couldn't-she wouldn't, tell him no. She couldn't have him end up eventually resenting her for forcing him to pass up his dream. She knew, all too well, he would never do that to her.
Uninvited thoughts traveled within the midst of her thoughts, linking to him, what he was currently doing, having returned to New York. She wondered if the events included his pretty cast mate that the media constantly roared with rumors regarding her and him's secret love aware.
Her stomach rolled, and she didn't truly know if she was hungry anymore, having stirred the remnants of the flavor packet into the microwave-cooked noodles.
But she decided to eat it, regardless, and lazily retreated back to her bedroom, hot bowl in hand.
She collapsed onto her bedroom, and was suddenly overwhelmed with his aroma. She shut her eyes, and sighed, reaching for the comforter to pull to her face. She breathed in his scent, and several tears rolled down her porcelain cheeks. The events of the break up continued to play on loop in her head. She thought of the words he said. She wished so much she could get something to silence them. Alcohol and sleep proved not to be efficient. Jade, inwardly groaned, and rolled over, forcing her face into her pillow.
Even more than the desire to silence the thoughts, she wished for something else to silence the following thoughts, that Beck had been right.
And perhaps he had been right, that they couldn't continue to live like this. But it didn't make it hurt any less.
God, it fucking hurt.
So I kind of hate myself for writing this. But I was in a depressed mood today, and just sort of couldn't stop thinking about it.
I hope you guys enjoy it, anyway. Please review and tell me what you think.