Authors note: Hello readers! Here I am with part two of Invisible. I'd just like to give a quick thanks to everyone who favorited and/or reviewed chapter 1. You guys have no idea how much those reviews mean to me.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Part three coming soon.

Like shadows in a faded light,
Oh, we're invisible.
I just wanna open your eyes
And make you realize...

I find him in his room. Jerome is slouching on his bed, back resting against the headboard. He's listening to his iPod, and his eyes are closed, and he's got this peaceful look on his face like he's comletely in his own little world. Its kind of cute, and I almost don't want to disturb him.

Almost. I slam the door shut so he'll notice me.

His eyes fly open as he yanks out his earbuds. "Patricia!" He sounds so surprised to see me, and I'm hit with the ridiculousness of it, all of a sudden. Of how stupid it is for me to be standing here, in his room, about to pour my heart out. I'm about to pour my heart out to Jerome Clarke. God, what is wrong with me?

I open my mouth to speak, but just stand there gaping like an idiot when my mind decides to go completely blank. Seriously, I am standing there, in Jerome's room, and I cannot think of one single thing to say. What was I thinking, coming in here? What, did I think I could just walk in, state my feelings, and then Jerome would drop to his knees with a passionate proclomation of love? No, of course that wouldn't happen. He would probably laugh in my face, because he can be a jerk like that. I knew that, coming in. But I did it anyway, because for some unfathomable reason I'm in love with him, jerkiness and all.

Then again, nothing would ever happen if I couldn't find within myself the will to speak. Silence stretches between us, and I take a moment to just appreciate him. His hair, dirty blonde and artfully messed up, his eyes, as piercing and blue as always, and his smirk, that mischevious smirk that makes me melt into a puddle.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. "Um, Patricia...what are you doing in my room?" Trixie, I think, You're supposed to call me Trixie...

"You're a complete dumbass, you know." For a second, I want to praise the lord that I finally said something. Then I realize what I said, and I want to crawl in a hole and die. This was so not going as planned.

Jerome just looks confused. "You came all the way into my room just to tell me that?" He rolls his eyes towards the heavens, as if asking for strength. "Ok, if you're just going to insult me, then I'd much rather listen to music, thanks." And just like that, he places his earbuds back in and shuts his eyelids.

And now I'm angry. Ok, so maybe calling him a dumbass wasn't the best way to go. But that doesn't give him permission to ignore me! And once the words are out, I can't take them back. I decide to just roll with it.

I stomp over to his bed and yank the earbuds right out of his ears.

"Ow!" He cries, shooting up from his slouching position and massaging his earlobes. "Have you gone insane?"

Probably. "What I said is completely true, Jerome. There you go, pining away after Mara, who will never love you, by the way, and completely shutting out anyone else who could possibly care about you. There are people in this universe other then Mara Jaffray, but you just stare right through everyone who doesn't have her perfect little smile, or perfect little laugh. Its like we're invisible. It's pathetic, quite frankly. And I'm sick of it."

He gives a little shake of his head, like he just can't believe any of this is actually happening. For a second, just for a second, I see a flash of something in his eyes. Resignation, sadness, love? I'm not sure, but it's enough to make me hope that maybe I had finally gotten through to him. Before I can even comprehend it, though, the look is gone, replaced with the cold, calculating poker face that he usually wears.

"Who are you, to come in here and call me a dumbass, and pathetic? You're pathetic, Patricia, and clearly delusional if you think for one second that I am shutting out anyone who could care about me. No one cares about me, not my parents, not Sibuna, not Mara or Mick. No one. You've all made that perfectly clear."

I care about you. "Alfie cares about you."

He scoffs. "Hardly. Not since your stupid little Sibuna gang managed to trap him. I barely see him anymore. And I'm fine with that. I've made it this far without anyone, haven't I?"

"Maybe, but you're not living, Jerome. You're empty. Everyone has someone. Even you, if you'd take a minute to get past that thick head of yours."

"Oh spare me, Trixie. You aren't my therapist. Please, then, if you would be so kind, do tell. Who does care about me? Because they've been hiding it awfully well."

He called me Trixie again. Progress. I muster up all my courage. "Me, Jerome. I care about you."

He stares at me for a second, and I stare right back. His gaze penetrates right to my soul, makes it hard to breathe. And then, he bursts out laughing.

He laughs. Right in my face. "You? Oh, good one, Trixie! Wait 'til Alfie gets a load of that! You, actually caring about me? That's absurd!" He wipes away tears from under his eyes, a giant, ruthless grin cracking across his face.

How did I ever fall for this kid? I try not to let him see how much his laughter hurts me. "You're such a jerk!" I explode. I'm yelling now, if anyone else is in the house they can probably hear me. But I can't find it within myself even the desire to care anymore. Let people think what they want. Let Jerome think what he wants. It doesn't even matter anymore. "Of course I care about you, Jerome! I freaking love you! I've been in love with you since last year! And I don't care that you're heartless, or that you think you're rotten or a bad person. I don't care that you think you aren't kind. Because, honestly? Everything you think about yourself is true! You are malicious and manipulative. You don't care about anyone's feelings but your own. You are an empty shell of a person, Jerome Clarke, yet for some insane reason, I love you anyway."

I take a breath and try to calm myself. But now that the words have started flowing, I can't stop them. I've been hiding these feelings for so long, its a relief to finally get them off my chest. "But you know what? I also see so much light in you. So much good. I know you care about people, I know it. I just think that you've shut everyone out for so long, you've forgotten what its like to be loved. I know your parents don't care about you, but its their loss. I care about you. And if you would just take your head out of your ass, maybe you would realize that."

And I just wanna show you,
She don't even know you ,
Baby let me love you let me want you...

I finish, breathing heavily. Did I really just say all that? Well, never doubt the insanity of Patricia Williamson in love. Silence stretches between us. I try to read Jerome's emotions, but there aren't any there. His face is absolutely blank. In fact, he looks almost...bored.

But I know better. Jerome hides his feelings, that much is obvious. "Well, are you going to say something, or are you going to just stare at me like an idiot?" I demand.

His eyes, as usual, give him away and steal my breath. His countenance may be blank, but his eyes sparkle with a mix of emotions that I can't even begin to decipher. "Oh, so you're done then?" He drawls. And I want to punch him. Seriously, I do. But I restrain myself, because that would really undermine that huge speech I had just given him.

Do not cry. I command myself. This was expected. "Stop." I cut him off. "Just stop. You know what? Forget it. Forget I ever even came in here. Just continue along in your blind little Mara world, completely miserable, and forget that I ever mentioned that I was in love with you." And I try to keep my voice steady but for some reason it breaks and I'm getting choked up and do not cry.

All of a sudden, his features soften. "Patricia..." His voice is soft, filled with an unreadable emotion. Pain? Regret? Honestly, I'm just too tired to figure it out. He reaches out, as if to grab me, and for a second I think he might. I actually think he might grab me by the waist and pull me close and love me the way I want to love him.

But of course he doesn't. My fantasy shatters when he retracts his hand as if he's been electrocuted. As if the thought of touching me disgusts him. "Patricia, I'm sorry. I just..."

"You just love Mara." I finish the statement for him. "I know." There's a waterfall building up behind my eyes, threatening to spill over any second. I have to get out of there. Because I will not, I must not, give Jerome the satisfaction of seeing me cry. "I...I have to go. See you later, Slimeball." And I hate how broken my voice sounds.

I turn and flee. Behind me, I hear him call out "Trixie, wait!" But I don't stop. The tears are falling now, faster and faster, running down my face in black mascara smudges. And as I slam the door behind me, I think I maybe hear him crying, too.

But that's impossible. Jerome Clarke does not cry. Then again, before today I was sure that Patricia Williamson didn't cry, either.

Well, there you guys have it! Chapter two. Lots of drama, I know, but that was just to get you ready for chapter three (: Loved it, hated it, you know what to do. Review! Every comment is apreciated.

-Moments