Dear readers,

Several people have written me and pointed out that Rory sent Jess a post card but I didn't mention what it said. Never fear, this was all in the plan. They may from time to time read back through old mail and letters that they have received, which is of course one of the best reasons to get mail, instead of just email.

I've also been getting a lot of questions about the book Jess sent her, and what is it about and can I focus on it more. I regret to tell you that his second book isn't that important to me. What he has written is not as important as what he is or will be writing. Spoiler alert- the 3rd book will be very important- I may even later write that in its entirety, we shall see how ambitious I get. Right now it is the 'music' for the muse that is the important part. Look for what he's subtly trying to tell her each time. If you aren't familiar with some of the songs, I highly recommend looking them up on iTunes and previewing them in order to understand the style. They are always worth purchasing. "Jess" has excellent taste, even if he does like Hemingway.

Thank you very much for the reviews and all of the reads. The response has been really overwhelming, but it inspired me to get the second chapter out much faster than I had originally anticipated, so thank you. This is my first Gilmore Girls Fanfic and I'm really excited about it.

Chapter 2-

Jess stared at the blinking cursor of his computer screen wanting it to change. The nearly empty screen of what should be several chapters of his new book seemed to taunt him. He'd finished his second book nearly four months ago and he wanted to jump straight into an idea that he'd had for his third book, but as swiftly as the idea had come to him it had evaporated into little more than a substandard plot he no longer had any interest in. He threaded his hands wearily through his hair and linked them behind his head and leaned back in the chair, eyes searching the room for inspiration. Above the wall behind his computer hung a huge cork board that was overflowing with bits of paper, flyers, bills, reminders and a small group of photographs. One was of his mom holding his half sister Doula at her first Stars Hollow Halloween Parade. There was also one of Matt and Chris at St. Paddy's day last year. They were standing on a bar in their matching shamrock boxers attempting to do a jig in honor of Guinness. Shortly after the picture had been taken they had been thrown out of the bar, but the moment had been immortalized. He made mental notes as he scanned the board. Pay the electric and the phone bill, call the landlord about the hallway light again, buy milk and cereal. Finally his eyes came to rest on a postcard tacked to the board in the lower left corner. He sighed softly to himself, unwilling to admit that he had looked up with the sole purpose at looking at the postcard, just like he'd done 10 minutes ago.

The picture of the bridge stretching over still lake waters surrounded by brilliantly colored autumn foliage still gave him a pang every time he looked at it. Looking at the image, time seemed to rewind, and drag him back to a period in his life filled with some of the best and most painful memories of his life. The bridge had been a sanctuary to him, but it could also incite some of the most powerful emotions he had. It was aptly appropriate that its sender was the one who he most often associated with those same memories.

Rory.

He no longer needed to turn it over to remember the message. He'd all but memorized it, staring at it as often as he had before turning it over and tucking it away in the corner of the board. As if that stopped him from looking at it. He'd read it so often that now he could almost hear her voice when he read it.

Dear Jess,

I wanted to let you know that I graduated from Yale this week. I would have brought you the diploma to prove it to you, but there wasn't time. I'm leaving today to start my new job for an online 'zine. I'm going to be covering Senator Obama's campaign from the road, but I wanted to send you a note before I left. I'm sorry for the way that I left things last time we saw each other. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me I would very much like to stay in touch. Below is my address. If you can't, I understand. I just wanted you to know that I don't think I would have gone back to school if it hadn't been for you. Thank you for the pep talk. Turns out I really did need it.

I hope I hear from you,

Rory

PS- I saw this postcard in the bookstore and it made me think of you.

Jess sank back further in the chair and conjured up an image of her face. He could easily imagine how she looked as she wrote to him. How she'd brush the hair back from her face and tuck it behind her right ear but not her left. He wondered if she wrote several rough drafts before penning this one. It would be just like her, he mused, always looking for perfection in whatever she did. He could easily imagine the look that must have come across her face as she found out about her new job. When she was happy her whole face would just light up, and when her eyes looked at you they could convey more words than were possible in the English language.

Abruptly he groaned aloud, opened his eyes, and stood up, walking away from his desk and the postcard. He'd been so excited to hear from her even though he knew it was pathetic. She'd walked out more than a year ago, choosing that dim-witted idiot instead of him. He actually thought he'd heard his heart break when she said that she loved Logan.

He walked into the kitchen area and wretched open the fridge searching for but not wanting anything inside of it. He chose an apple at random and walked over to the nearest window and peered outside into the gloom as he took a bite. He'd always hoped that maybe one day after he got things together that they might try again. Never in all the time that he'd been away had he ever found her equal. A girl that was as beautiful was rarely as witty and intelligent, and if they were they didn't draw him in like she had. "Face it," he thought leaning his forehead against the window pane, everyone else still a pale second to her.

That in and of itself pissed him off. He didn't want to be hung up on someone who was in love with someone else. Especially when that someone else was an obvious idiot who didn't appreciate her like she deserved. She chose a guy that had sat there and watched her self-destruct, drop out of Yale and slowly become the woman his mother wished he'd marry?

"But," he reminded himself with a wry face as he threw away the apple core, "she chose him and not you." He woodenly walked back over to his desk and sat back down. "All she wants from you is friendship," he thought glumly. His still blank page seemed to mock him further, so he switched over to his e-mail and looked through the messages hoping one was from her. The package he'd sent should have arrived by now, and he hadn't heard a word from her. He mentally berated himself for parts of the letters, especially where he'd outright insulted her boyfriend. But as much as he wanted to be friends with her again, he refused to pander and put on a happy face. He would be honest with what he thought, no matter what. His shoulders slumped a little as he refreshed the page looking for new mail. He really did want to be friends with her again. He missed just talking to her, even about the small stuff. She was fun to argue with and he could talk to her about such a wide range of topics; Music, books, politics, world events. She had a way of making him think and her good opinion was worth earning. There weren't very many people that he could make that claim of.

Scrolling through his new messages he was so lost in thought that he almost missed the very message he was hoping for. He sat up straight as he noticed the new message marked: Package! from and he quickly opened it.

Jess- I just wanted to send you a quick message to let you know that your package arrived this morning. Thanks so much! It was a huge surprise, and your new book was an even bigger one. I'm almost halfway through it and I really love it so far. If Ernest had written like this I might have become a convert. But I'll save the review for my next letter. Keep the cookies coming! You were right about that humming noise, but the music helped. It was good to hear from you.

Your friend,

Rory

Jess reread the email and was so engrossed he didn't hear the door open until Chris spoke from behind him. "Dude, stop that. It's highly disconcerting."

"What?" A startled Jess replied.

"That smiling thing; it's creepy. You don't smile. You smirk, grin, you look amused or pleased. But you never smile like that."

"Thank you Webster. What are you, some kind of walking thesaurus?"

Chris ignored the comment, moved to perch upon the nearby arm of the couch, and continued to pester. "So did you finish a couple of chapters?"

"No."

"Find out that they're making another Firefly movie?"

"Shut up."

"You got a date or something?"

Jess turned back to his screen. "Man, will you get out of here? I'm trying to write."

Chris glanced over at the evidently blank screen. "What have you possibly added since the last time I was up here? The….and….wherefore?"

"Oh jeez, you can be such an editor."

"My job is to drive the creative force."

Jess shot him a withering stare but Chris was immune to its powers. He glanced up at the cork board while Jess returned his attention to the screen and pretended to edit a sentence. "So, ever hear from the princess?" Chris asked casually.

Jess ignored him.

"Dude, you ask me if you can borrow some music, music I happen to know that you wouldn't listen to in a million years, a guy's entitled to details." He watched Jess's shoulders hunch up higher with every word. Damn he really was fun to pester. "So, you two friends again?" he asked while making the quotation fingers.

"Remind me to warn her not to send anything that isn't sealed." Jess muttered glancing away from the screen.

"Oh please, we'd just use steam. But the editor in me noticed a little grammatical clue…..so, have you?"

Jess tried to ignore him, but he glanced up at the postcard without thinking and a small smile escaped his lips.

"Dude!" Chris shouted while hopping off the desk and pointing his finger at him. "Princess did write you."

"Can you stop calling her princess?" Jess said annoyed. "You make her sound like a toy poodle or something."

"Stop stalling. So, what did she say? Is she still with the pompous ass? Is she coming to see you? Did she read your book?"

"Yes, she wrote, ok?" Jess muttered, and then shifted uncomfortably. "Of course she's still with the prick, she's got a job for a magazine and she's on the road."

Chris was silent for a moment, a feat in and of itself such a rare occurrence that Jess turned around and found his friend watching him closely.

"Dude," he began cautiously. "Are you sure you know what you're doing here? I mean, don't get me wrong, she seemed like a pretty cool chick and all but are you sure you want to do this again? The last time she left-"

"Yeah," Jess interrupted coldly, "I remember."

"Do you?" Chris asked. "You walked around here like a zombie for months. You were here man, but you weren't here. I mean your writing was great, but man as your friend I've gotta question why you want to go there again."

"I know!" Jess shouted angrily as he jumped out of his chair and started pacing the room. "I know how it was, you think I haven't forgotten?! I remember everything. Every word she said, every movement, every damn breath. I remember the look in her eyes just before I kissed her and the horror in them afterwards. I remember how scared I was of Luke calling for months, terrified he would call me with news that she had married that bastard, and become some sort of freakish housewife. I remember thinking that I blew it, that I could never fix what was wrong between us and that I wasn't going to get a second chance. I mean, she went back to the ass that was cheating on her, but she couldn't forgive me for leaving!" Jess flopped down on the couch and stared at the ceiling, his energy spent.

Chris stood motionless on the other side of the room, eyes wide and mouth open. That was more than they often heard him say in a month.

"I miss…" Jess began. "I miss how it was between us. Not just her but how I felt when I was with her. She made me dream, made me want more. Even if I could only have it back with friendship, it's worth trying, isn't it?" He asked aloud.

"Dude," Chris started excitedly. "You should write this." he said as he pointed to the blank screen on Jess's computer.

"What?" Jess asked wearily from the couch.

"This, her and you- they say write what you know, and you obviously have this on the brain. You should write about this. Back to the beginning."

"Spoken like an editor," Jess muttered as he rolled his eyes.

"Listen-"

"What am I? Nicholas Sparks?"

"May I remind you of his overall sales the past 4 years?" Chris said in his business tone.

"Aided by mindless masses," Jess retorted.

"You're missing the point. Think of this as a way of exorcising the demon. Put on paper the whole history. How you met, what you thought, add your own unique flair to the story."

Jess was quiet as Chris went on, his own mind already working.

"Look, maybe if you put it down on paper it will help you decide what to do now. Do you get over her, or do you tell her how you feel again."

Jess nodded his assent. "Ok," he said slowly, "I'll give it a try."

"Of course you will, your editor commands it."

Jess looked up at Chris and raised a cool, questioning eyebrow at him, a move that had Chris edging towards the door. "I can't believe that I'm taking advice from you," he muttered as Chris opened the door.

"Hey, don't forget, tonight is movie night. I'm picking up Chinese Food."

"Oh God, it's not Matt's choice again, is it?" Jess said with horror.

"Aw, come on dude, you promised. Don't make me beg. Two guys watching a movie alone, it's so Brokeback Mountain."

"Fine, fine, fine," Jess said as he waved Chris away and hopefully out the door.

He sat down at the computer, opened a new document and allowed himself to dwell on the memories of his first year in Stars Hollow. The words came to him fast and furiously. He started with the frustration that he felt when he was sent to live with his uncle. His anger at his mother and the solitude that he felt heading to see an uncle that he didn't know that well, in some town he'd never heard of. When he arrived he remembered that it was like a freak show. Everyone there seemed to love the Podunk little town and found it charming, which made him want to hate it even more. He remembered feeling unwanted at first, his uncle didn't even have a bed for him, just some cot, and he remembered taking out most if his anger on his uncle. "He bore it well," Jess mused as he leaned back in his chair staring at his progress. He'd written several thousand words and he hadn't even gotten to the pivotal moment, the night he went to dinner, acted like an ass and met Rory. He wrote for five straight hours before he was interrupted by the arrival of Chris and Matt with Chinese food, and this week's torture from Chris in the form of movies.

They berated him long enough to get away from the computer, and both tried to steal glimpses of what he had written so far. It was Matt's movie choice night, a fact that usually had Jess forcibly retreating, especially since Matt seemed incapable of choosing movies that didn't star Kirsten Dunst. Tonight was no exception and Jess found himself watching Elizabethtown. He was partway through the movie when a phone conversation scene sparked a memory and he returned to the computer to capture his thoughts of the time that Rory called him, the night after he won her basket, and she was still dating Dean.

He kept half-listening to the movie, not wanting to admit he wanted to know how it all ended, and found himself watching again from his desk as Kirsten's character sent Orlando Bloom on a road trip timed to music. Suddenly inspired, he opened iTunes and began searching through song titles looking for something in particular. It was time to send Rory another CD.

Hi Folks, I wanted to send Jess off on his 3rd book with the proper motivation. What do you think so far? In case you haven't noticed this will be a long winded multi chapter fic, so I hope you stick around. I promise that I will have chapters soon where they actually get to interact and hold real time conversations. For now I just wanted to set the tone of what they are both feeling and try to flesh them out first before I get into deeper angst.

I am looking for some suggestions of what he should call the book he just started writing, and I will have some excerpts from it in this fic later down the road. But in the meantime please let me know what you think so far.

Thanks.