Just wanted to clarify that although this is under the category of a tragedy and Jade will slip up a bit throughout the story, it will not end in her death. This is a Bade story, and I promise now this will end in a somewhat happy ending.

It wasn't until she looked into the betraying glass of the mirror that she realized the yellowing bruises, that had once been a deep pink and purple, that he'd left on her skin began to fade away, that she felt as if she didn't know whether or not she would ever feel whole again.

It wasn't until she'd broke the thin barrier of sanity slipped away and she decided to cut herself open again that she realized she despised the smell of him.

It wasn't until her vision blurred, and the smell decreased, that she realized she'd bled all over their sheets, tainting the white a rusted red color.

It wasn't until her blood had soaked through to the mattress's core that she thought it may be time for a new bed, that she made the rash decision.

And it wasn't until Jade West witnessed their bed go up in flames that she realized she'd made a mistake.

Her new bed was stiff and squeaky. It didn't smell of Beck. She hadn't held him on this mattress. They hadn't fallen asleep countless nights, entangled in one another's limbs, on this mattress. But then, she hadn't cried herself to sleep in wake of their relationship on this new bed. Not yet, anyway.

There were three swift knocks at her door that Friday evening. Jade lay in her new bed, unsure if she was unable to move, or simply didn't desire to. Dried tears and dried blood had set into her skin, leaving her feeling sticky, and somewhat itchy. An old film was on, although she'd muted the television. She watched it, in depth, unwanting to tear her eyes away from the screen, even though she didn't obtain the slightest idea of what was going on. The storyline was dramatic. Quite a bit of what appeared could be singing or just painfully slow dialogue, Jade wasn't sure. Or perhaps it was a silent film. The black and white picture on her screen flickered ever so often, the quality of the movie failing.

The knocker pursued, but Jade ignored them, knowing eventually said knocker would catch her hint and leave. She wasn't in the mood for company. To say the least. Suddenly, a startling crack sounded through the apartment. Jade shot up, rising from her bed clad in merely a tank top, laced panties, and silk bathrobe, all of which were black. She peered passed her cracked bedroom door, searching for the identity of the intruder. To her bewilderment, a determined looking Cat Valentine swung the door open, and strode into her bedroom.

"Cat, what the hell?!" Jade breathed, rising her pale arm to her chest, in an attempt to steady her racing heartbeat.

Cat gave her a once-over and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Get dressed, Jade. We're going out. I'm not letting you sulk anymore." It was the most threatening tone that the petite redhead had ever uttered-to the usually rather threatening, herself, Jade, at least.

The taller girl continued to stare at her, uncharacteristically dumbfounded. "Did you break my door down?" She asked, moving to the foyer area of the microscopic apartment, to confirm her suspicions.

"Yes," Cat answered, seemingly bored, taking hold of her best friend's shoulders, and leading her back to the bedroom. "Now, get dressed." She ordered, before leaning in to take a whiff of the raven haired girl. "But oh God, you'll have to shower first." She directed her towards the bathroom now. "Go. Hurry."

"But," Jade protested, keeping her eyes on Cat. "You're so small. How the hell did you break my door down?" She questioned, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Cat rolled her brown eyes, in exasperation. Typically, the roles were reversed. Cat had always been the ditsier, more sheltered one, that Jade had to assist, irritation potent within her throughout the task.

"Just go," Cat hissed, shoving the bathroom door closed.

"You better not be taking me to a fucking club," Jade seethed from the passenger seat. "And I don't know why you insisted on driving. I always drive."

Cat groaned into the steering wheel. "Just hush. We're going to a bar."

"Thank the fucking Lord." the darker haired friend muttered, resting her head onto the base of the cool window.

"You curse like a sailor." Cat giggled. Ah, there. Some of the old, beloved Cat splashed a hint of light into the whole kidnapping situation.

Although Cat never left behind her bubbly and sweet persona, she had definitely matured throughout her college years. She abandoned her cluelessness in high school. Part of Jade wished she'd left Robbie Shapiro along with it. But three years had passed, and the seemingly strange relationship was as strong as ever.

"You know how I can't stand those barely legal, orange, blonde bimbos who end every sentence with 'woo.' and sip their fruity drinks and grind on strangers." She recoiled, her tone flat, as she gazed out the passenger's side window, the city lights flashing obnoxiously. LA nightlife was not Jade's scene. Not at all.

"I do. Which is why we're going to a dive bar, where skeevy middle aged drunken men will hopefully get US drunk off hard liquor, not fruity drinks, in some diluted hope that we'll end up getting home with them."

Jade couldn't help but smirk as Cat recited almost precisely what Jade rambled each time anyone whined about her dragging them to a bar of her choice, rather than some overrated, obnoxious night club, minus the incessant cursing.

But the short-lived smirk disappeared from her expression as her eyes caught a young couple walking the boulevard, hand in hand. The woman laughed, leaning into her lover's shoulder, as he chuckled along with her. They appeared so young, so carefree, so in love. But it then occurred to Jade that they were probably within the range of her own age. She squinted at herself in the mirror. The bags beneath her made up eyes caused her to frown. She almost didn't recognize the girl staring back at her. When did she start feeling so damn old?

The tingle didn't begin to set in until she had downed her third whiskey.

The night carried on and heavy drinking ensued. As the hours passed, the middle-aged drunks, and forty-something tramps, who still dressed as if they were in their twenties, dispersed, the girls remained at their booth, setting across from each other, and remained ordering drinks. Jade refused any of "that heart-to-heart girly bullshit" and as they drenched their blood in alcohol, their conversation thinned. So they sat, with the absence of sound, sipping their drinks, and staring at one another from opposite sides of the booth. Cat would frown at Jade's wrists subsequently, and each time, Jade would glower at her, as if it were a challenge for her to say something. And eventually she did.

"Are we really doing this again, Jade?" She asked. Her tone gave off an attempt of austerity, though her eyes displayed blatant sadness.

Jade shrugged, and studied her chipped nails, as if she were bored. But really, she was ashamed. So ashamed and embarrassed of her bad habits that it became difficult to look her best friend in the eye.

Although their mouths had been previously been silent, Jade's mind was in shambles. She couldn't halt her frequent thoughts. And unfortunately, they all seemed to be traced back to that ex-boyfriend of hers. How she always knew he would end up leaving her. And the feeling was utterly treacherous. The thought alone, that he proved her right, was enough to trigger the oh-so-familiar tightening of her throat and moisture to her eyes. But it was proof enough to make her laugh, also. The bitter taste of alcohol lingered in her mouth, and began a journey to travel throughout her veins. She was just intoxicated enough to smile at the irony she was too cowardly to point out.

"We're not doing anything." A rebuttal to an argument Cat hadn't even started. Jade was defensive. When she raised her head up, her emerald irises turned to ice. "And besides, I think I'm entitled to one fuck up...considering..." But she couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence.

"Looks like a lot more than one."

Jade bit down harshly on the inside of her cheek, staring down at her beverage, with half-lidded eyes. Cat placed a steady hand atop of Jade's, of which she realized had begun to shake uncontrollably.

"I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but things will be okay eventually." Her sing-song voice was nearly sickening. Jade kept her eyes focused on the drink, half-consumed, her blurred vision causing the cup to appear to be swaying; although it remained still on the booth table.

Jade laughed a cold chuckle that lacked humor. "Oh, right. Of course it will." A roll of her eyes. "Look, I know everything is peachy fuckin' keen, all sunshine and rainbows, in Cat Valentine's world, but out here, in the real world, it's a lot dimmer." It was as if venom rolled off her quick tongue, her tone so cruel.

The sullen girl's best friend frowned at her. But she wouldn't jump to sudden dramatics. Her overly sensitive side was abandoned along with her ditziness. Her comment still stung, more than she'd like to admit. But Jade was hurting. She was hurting and she was drunk, and although she would never admit she needed the presence of anyone, Cat knew all too well that she needed her now. Perhaps she refused Cat's motivational pep-talks, or teary heart-to-hearts. But she needed something. And if it were getting drunk, and taking jabs at her best friend in order for her to feel a tinge better, then so be it.

She remained silent, and Jade blinked at her. After a moment, she ripped her hand away and chugged the remainder of her drink. They'd lost count of what number they'd been on hours ago. Cat glanced away from her, and redirected her attention momentarily to a television that hung high on the wall. It was the time of night when nearly all that played was infomercials.

"Have you talked to him?" A hoarse voice asked. It had slipped out before Jade could think better of it. Her drunken brain, in shambles, refusing to filter the words that uttered from her clumsy lips.

"Yes, not much."

"How is he?" Jade asked, though she wasn't certain whether or not she wanted the answer.

A pause. Cat wore a consistent frown. "He was sad." She admitted. "He wanted to know how you were."

Jade swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Speaking of him was so much, too much.

"And what'd you tell him?"

Cat gnawed on her stained pink lips. "I told him you were sad." She took a deep, shaky, breath, and Jade wondered if she was about to cry, herself. "But I told him you would be okay. I told him you were strong."

And with that, the sobs unleashed from Jade's fragile frame. She was shaking violently, waterfalls of tears escaping from her eyes, black makeup running down her now flushed cheeks. She hunched over and buried her head within the confines of her folded arms, hiding away, longing more than ever to disappear.

Suddenly, she felt a wavering presence above her, then beside her. Cat was in the seat of her booth now, wrapping gentle arms around her. "Jade," she cooed repeatedly, stroking her hair, attempting to calm her.

"You lied, Cat. You lied." She choked out between frequent sobs, and faltering breaths. "I'm not strong." And she cried harder, burying her head into the warmth of Cat's chest. "I'm not strong." She repeated.

Cat continued to stroke her hair, rubbing her hands up and down Jade's bare arm.

"No, no." She whispered softly, whilst shaking her head. "I didn't. You're the strongest person I know, Jadey."

It was easy for all of her friends to convince her they were there for her. To take her out and coddle her, and repeatedly tell her everything was going to be okay. 'In time' they would say.

It was simple enough to find an array of tasks to perform in the hours of the daylight. To keep herself busy, so busy that hopefully his godforsaken name wouldn't appear in her head. Although, it always did.

It was effortless to pour herself into her writing. To focus on her plays and her studies and her part time job at the record store to chase the sadness away. She'd always done this. Concentrate on the things she loved, or even somewhat tolerated, to avoid those that she hated.

But it was the treacherous hours of the night that became the hardest. It was when she was forced to return to her small, empty apartment, no supportive friends by her side. When she had no class to obtain her attention. No hours at the record store to keep her fiddling away with customers and organizing. No sleep to keep her occupied. Because she couldn't sleep. She'd lie awake, and painfully ponder each regret. And it didn't help that each time she obtained the seemingly difficult task of falling asleep, it was only him that she dreamt of.

Jade had always wished that sometimes she could turn her brain off, for it was constantly riveting, thinking a million and two thoughts all at once, never just shutting up. She couldn't help but realize she was alone, then. No body to form to hers as she drifted to her slumber. No one to play with her hair, or hum a sweet lullaby to. No soul to keep her company during her most anxious time of day. Beck wasn't there for her to wake up to.

And he never would be again.

Jade took several steps onto the campus grounds, and suddenly a pit of nostalgia rose within her chest. She remembered her freshman year of college. Hand in hand with Beck, as they took their first steps into their new life together. Originally, the gang had all planned to attend college at California State together. Jade planned to major in theatrical arts, with a smidge of English, and creative writing. Beck was continuing to pursue his never-dying dream of becoming a successful actor, and wanted to major in theatre. Cat's plan consisted of design. She'd originally wished to travel farther to attend a school that focused essentially on designing. But this was pre-Robbie, who desired to major in both music and theatre. And when Robbie and Jade had announced they'd be attending CSULA, they'd already made her decision for her. Tori Vega invested all of her time into her music career, and wished to focus on that, much like Andre Harris.

Beck and Jade loved CSULA. It was relatively close to the one bedroom apartment they'd invested in over summer break. The classes were difficult, yet spectacular. Their high school best friends, although Jade continued to insist the majority of them were not her friends, were there, as well. And they had each other. The adjustments from high school to college were supposed to be so much more heart-wrenching. They'd both felt so exponentially lucky, for life to have fallen into place like this. They'd successfully left their old lives behind with a lack of tragic goodbyes.

If only that Jade could have imagined how ignorant she was.

She didn't have a morning class that day, but she normally made an appearance to have lunch with her friends on campus, regardless, and if she didn't today, suspicions would arise. And she couldn't have that, now could she?

Cat's expression immediately brightened once Jade took a seat at the friends' outdoor table, which truly was not much different than their beloved Asphalt Cafe. She gave her friend a brief hug, before Jade eventually shook her off. Andre, Tori, and Robbie took turns bidding her sympathetic smiles.

Jade sneered at them. "Okay, if you all are going to continue giving me those fucking 'lost puppy' looks, I am not having lunch with you." She deadpanned, growling.

"We're not, we're not. Right, guys?" Cat convinced her, giving the remainder of their friends somewhat threatening glares. As threatening as Cat could be.

"Right," they all murmured simultaneously.

The redhead smiled, and shoved a tray of food in Jade's direction. "I got you a burrito."

"Not really that hungry," She grimaced at the food, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Cat frowned deeply, and Robbie placed a reassuring arm on her shoulder.

Tori sat on Jade's other side, and her sympathetic stare didn't cease. Jade glared at her.

"Vega." She warned, turning slightly to her direction.

Since their high school days, Jade and Tori had grown sufficiently closer. Meaning they weren't constantly amped to kill each other, (Jade, at least.) The youngest Vega had never been the most aggressive. Although in the days of the teenager years, Jade had found Tori extremely irritating, and even would admit to hate her, they kept up a civil front, perhaps even a bit of a friendship. Tori was still seemingly annoying to the darker haired girl at times, but there were far less attempted murders.

"I'm so sorry, Jade." Tori muttered, with a frown, hinting her sympathy didn't end at the stare. "I am." She hesitantly placed a hand on Jade's shoulder.

"God," She rolled her eyes, and coldly shook the hand off. "Just stop."

"She's stopping." Andre piped in, from Tori's other side. "We're just...we're your friends, Jade. We want to make sure you're okay."

"I'll be fine," She insisted, aggravated, although she, herself, was wondering if it were true.

Really, she was the complete opposite. Everything reminded her of Beck, everything. And so everything pissed her off, and when she was done being pissed off, she was simply sad. And the confines of her stomach would lurch tremendously. It seemed cruel and sick to her—that one's life could alter so much so quickly. That everything she thought she had known seemed like a filthy lie now.

She thought it was fucked, really, the way that it soothed her to cut violently into her skin. Self-mutilation seemed beautiful alone in the dark within the confines of her apartment. But when the sleeves of her sweater accidentally pulled up in public, she felt ashamed. Her cheeks would blush.

Jade felt she had to hide her cutting from her friends—as if it were some type of flaw. She was embarrassed of the cuts and scars that stained her forearms. But she couldn't stop. Each night, as her tears would come out, as would her blade.

"Jade, wait up!" Pounding of sneakers assaulted the pavement, of none other than Tori Vega's, following an afternoon class one day.

But Jade didn't wait. She didn't halt the quick pace of her long legs as she made her way to the large parking lot, in search of her car.

"Jade!" The girl pleaded, remaining several strides away.

But still, she walked in the opposite direction.

She idly dug through her messenger bag, grazing the contents for her keys, when an out of breath and somewhat sweaty Tori appeared to her right.

"Why didn't you wait?! Didn't you hear me calling you?" she demanded, attempting to catch her breath.

Jade simply shrugged, and continued her journey.

Tori sighed. "Look, I wanted to see if you wanted to do something tonight."

A once studded eyebrow arose at the brunette's request.

"Like, go out." Tori clarified.

Jade narrowed her piercing green eyes. "Tori Vega, are you asking me out on a date?"

"No!" She fidgeted with her t-shirt, tugging it downward. "I just," she groaned. "Look, we can do whatever you want. I just- I need to get out of my house, and I figured you did, too."

Although it was oh-so-tempting, Jade couldn't deny that. And she couldn't hide away and take up the role of a hermit for all of eternity. It had been weeks since Beck had left. She couldn't put her life on pause to mope.

So, as Jade approached her car, and pressed down on her automatic key to unlock the driver's side, she turned to the girl that would stand about her height if it weren't for Jade's combat boots. "Fine. My place, 9:00."

Before Tori could reply, Jade retreated into her car, and quickly sped away from campus.

Tori arrived around 8:58 P.M., not much to Jade's surprise. The girl was punctual, to say the least. Jade lazily approached her door, when the uncommon rapping sounded throughout her apartment. She swung it open, and smirked a small smirk at her makeshift companion for the night.

Draped on her lightly tanned shoulders was a sparkly red halter top, hanging loosely, exposing a bit of the girl's cleavage. On her bottom half, she wore skin tight jeans that hugged her hips in all the right ways and heeled black boots. Her hair was wavy, and makeup slightly darker than usual.

And Tori smiled back at Jade's smirk, admiring the raven haired girl.

Jade wore a miniscule black tank top that displayed her prominent pale hipbones, a slither of ivory stomach, and of course her busty, milk-colored chest. She wore a straight black skirt that ended just above mid-thigh, that made her ass look impeccable, paired with her red combat boots. Her signature curls were looser than usual, with heavy lined eyes.

"Am I dressed okay?" Tori asked, still smiling. "I didn't know where we were going."

The smirk didn't fade from Jade's face, either. "You're perfect."

Jade didn't do night clubs. It was no secret. So Tori was expecting some dive bar that was just trashy enough to serve minors.

But she had to admit she was surprised when Jade pulled up to the record store she worked at part time, parked, and rid the ignition of her keys.

She shot Jade a questioning look. "Um?"

"Get out of the car." She ordered, already standing on the curb, and slammed her door behind her.

Tori complied, and for the second time that day, attempted whole-heartedly to catch up with the she-hurricane that was Jade West.

The lights of the surprisingly large record store flashed on in a sequence. Tori gazed around, taking in her environment. She'd never been inside the building, but had waited in the car outside several times with Cat and Beck when they had picked Jade up from work, while her car was in the shop.

As she inspected the place, noting the wide variety of vintage records and players, she noticed Jade had disappeared. Panic suddenly arose in her throat.

"Jade?" she called, unease filling her about being under the heat of the multiple fluorescent lights in her lonesome.

Jade reappeared several minutes later, emerging from the back of the store, bottle of Vodka in hand. "Raiding the manager's stash," she smiled, displaying the bottle as proof.

"That's where you were," Tori exhaled.

The darker haired girl smirked. "Where'd you think I went?"

"I-I don't know." Tori stammered.

Jade rolled her emerald eyes, and poured two shots. "Drink up," she purred, attempting to ignore the half Latina's nervous demeanor.

Her chocolate brown eyes rested on the shot glass, uneasily.

Jade groaned.

"Vega, calm down. It's just a drink," she hissed, and tipped hers back without so much of a cringe.

Tori hesitantly picked up the glass and held it tightly in her sweaty palms. Jade kept her eyes on her, wondering what was so intimidating about one shot. Of course, it was to sheltered little Tori Vega, who was twenty years old, and remained living with her overbearing parents. Jade's absent mind drifted and questioned if the girl had ever even been drunk.

She gulped down the shot painfully slowly, and displayed a disgusted expression, which only induced a smile across Jade's face.

Several shots later, Jade had taken upon herself to start playing old records, and found herself pulling Tori down from her sitting position on the counter top, and somewhat forcing her into a dance.

Jade threw her head back, and embraced her free spirit feeling, rocking her hips to the blaring beat of the song. She closed her eyes, and tugged Tori closer.

Suddenly, she felt the smaller hips of Tori's grinding against hers. Damn, Jade's inner monologue admitted, drunken Tori is blunt.

If there had been one doubt in Jade's mind that Tori was drunk, all had been clarified as she opened her eyes, and took one glance into Tori's blood shot irises.

They grinded to the beat of a rock song, Jade suddenly finding her hands tangled in Tori's chestnut locks, and Tori's hands wandering around Jade's waist area.

She could only decipher how much time was passing by how many songs had played. She attempted to keep track, but admittedly, found her brain function wavering as she continued to buck her hips to the beat and the girl bumping against her.

A steamed wave of pleasure rose beneath her as Tori's leg rubbed against her core, roughly. She stifled a short moan. It'd been a while since someone touched her there. And as, the rubbing enhanced, becoming harder and harder, a hand snaked downward between her legs. And when she gazed up and she saw lust within Tori's eyes, she felt herself pulling away.

A sound of displeasure left Tori's mouth. She stared at Jade with questioning eyes.

"I'm not near drunk enough for this." She answered, coldly.

In all reality, she probably was. Her pounding head didn't taunt her for nearly giving into Tori. But her body and heart recoiled against someone else's touch. Perhaps, it was too soon.

Jade huffed at herself, being too fragile for even a drunken one night stand. Pathetic, she told herself she was, utterly pathetic.

Although it was well into the hours of the early morning, and Jade offered to allow her to stay the night, but Tori denied and requested vigorously that she take her home.

Jade sighed, and leaned forward to turn on the radio, as Tori turned away and she suspected that she was crying. Although, in the past her motives weren't exactly friendly, tonight wasn't about hurting her frenemy. It was simply about blowing off steam.

She found herself lingering in the driveway of the Vega residence as Tori walked up to her front porch, making sure she got inside safely. Typically, Jade had only done that with Cat, back before her best friend had gotten her license, not to display that she cared, but because she genuinely did. She wondered what it meant that even though she was drunk, and unaware of her actions, she was concerned with Tori's safety.

The harsh light of day filled Jade's bedroom through her dark curtains. She groggily opened her eyes, and instantly regretted it. The brightness assaulted her pupils and she immediately slammed them shut for several more minutes, hoping they would readjust. She cautiously fluttered them open again, and lazily flipped over so that she could look at the clock.

It read 9:45 in taunting little red numbers. Shit. She was over fifteen minutes late for Walsh's class, one of her most scrutinizing professor's.

As she flipped out of bed, and attempted to get ready in a rush, she noticed the oh-so-familiar pounding of her head and cursed herself for her activities the night before.

She raced to school, switching lanes and zooming around cars that's speed wasn't to her liking, like a madwoman.

She flung the door open of the lecture hall at 10:00 on the dot, and all eyes were on her.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss West." Professor Walsh hissed from her podium.

Jade resisted the urge to flip her off, and settled for a nod, and a murmured "Sorry," as she took a seat by herself.

She immediately laid her head down, and attempted to listen to the lecture over 'the correct way to kill of a main character' which typically would've been extremely interesting to her, if she could just get her head to stop pounding.

Someone took a seat next to Jade, and she didn't bother to look up to clarify the identity of her company. It had been several days since the record store incident, and recalling the way Tori had looked at her as if she'd just murdered a puppy, she didn't think the brunette would come crawling back to her so soon.

"Jade," Tori shook her, as the lecture droned on.

"Shh," Jade winced at her shrill voice. "No talking." She moaned.

"Are you hung-over?" She asked, her eyes widening.

Jade grimaced, and attempted to set up, and glare at her, before allowing her head to fall back onto the makeshift desk.

"It's Monday morning, Jade."

"Thank you. I am aware." She mumbled, against her arm, and shut her eyes.

She didn't re-open them until the class had been dismissed. Jade gathered her items, and filed out of the classroom, Tori quick on her heels.

"Jade," Professor Walsh called. "Can I speak with you a moment?"

"Uh, yeah." Jade answered.

"I'll wait outside." Tori announced, and Jade stifled an eye roll.

She walked over to the eery professor's podium. "Look, I'm sorry about being late this morning,"

"This isn't about that, Miss West. But I appreciate your apology." She cut her off.

"Oh, okay…"

"I actually wanted to talk to you about the state of Mr. Oliver's enrollment in this University."

Jade nearly winced.

Beck's original plan was to stay enrolled and attempt to finish school, along with his starring role. This was when they weren't certain if the show would prove successful or not. He'd still enrolled and attended school for a brief time at the beginning of his junior year.

"What about it?" Jade's mouth was extremely dry, and she felt uncharacteristic beads of sweat forming on the small of her back.

"Forgive me to ask, but I was aware you two were…involved."

Jade could only nod, dumbfounded.

"Do you know if Mr. Oliver is planning to return to school sometime this spring?"

She narrowed her eyes, suddenly very irritated by the excess of questions.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Because Miss West," the Professor continued on, matter of fact-ly, un-phased by her student's harsh tone. "Headmaster Burke sent me the paperwork this morning for his withdrawal from this school. I figured you would know best." There was a gleam of amusement in her eyes at Jade's expression.

And Jade couldn't stomach the woman's menacing stare for any longer. "I think we're done here." She spat, and didn't await an answer from her teacher before fleeing the classroom.

She ditched the rest of her classes that day, much to Cat's dismay, who sent her disapproving texts throughout the afternoon, claiming she thought she'd been getting better and she needed to keep up with her studies, all of which caused Jade to roll her eyes, and grow too angry to reply.

Heartbroken and bed-ridden, she lay there, in her extremely lump-y bed, idly watching television, sipping on a mug of coffee in an attempt to nurse her hangover.

She wasn't delusional. They'd broken up, and although it killed her to admit it, it was for several good reasons. But hearing it out loud, that he was dropping out of school, with such a certainty that he wasn't coming back? That had slayed her.

Drifting in and out of consciousness throughout the day, she wasn't entirely sure it was real when she heard a subtle knocking on her door. Then, when she'd established it was real, she figured it was simply Cat again to break her out of her funk, and that she'd eventually break the door down.

But the incessant knocking continued, and with a long and dramatic groan, she got up to answer it.

Tori Vega stood in her doorway for the second time that week. Although, this time, she'd brought Chinese food, so Jade allowed her to come in with not much of a protest.

Earlier that day, after she'd fled the classroom, Tori, who'd heard the entirety of Jade's conversation with Walsh, attempted to catch up to her and speak to her about it. But she disregarded all of Tori's pleas, and refused to speak to her.

Jade silently shut the door and allowed Tori to sit. "You like California rolls, right?" She asked, beginning to take the food from the bags and prepare it for the two girls.

Jade sat and eyed the food. It did appear to be halfway decent Chinese food.

So they ate in silence, and as Jade shoveled vegetable Lo Mein into her mouth, she felt Tori's watching eyes on her, and saw from the corner of hers' that there was a smile plastered on her face.

"Glad I brought you some food. You seem pretty hungry," She laughed and Jade shot her a glare.

"Would you shut up? I haven't eaten all fucking day."

Tori leaned forward, her arm extending to her face, and Jade flinched.

"You got a lil' something." She smiled, and Jade frowned, as Tori wiped her mouth of a stray piece of noodle.

And although she attempted to keep a glower, as Tori's laugher filled the small kitchen, she couldn't help but laugh lightly, as well.

And then she was laughing hysterically, to the point where she couldn't see straight.

And then she realized it was because her eyes were welling up in tears.

And then she was crying hysterically, and a pair of arms tangled her into an embrace, and she was too exhausted to fend them off.

"I'm just so tired." She breathed, after several minutes.

Tori suggested after several more minutes that they watch The Scissoring, Jade's favorite movie.

She agreed with a quiet "Okay," and they shuffled to the couch in the living room.

Half-way through the film, of which they'd watched speaking few words to one another, Tori turned to her. "Look, about the other night," she started, but Jade cut her off.

"This is my favorite part," she murmured to her, as a girl was brutally murdered with a pair of scissors. Her pale skinned was stained with remnants of black tears.

"It was stupid; I was drunk—and stupid,"

Jade groaned, "Do you ever stop talking?"

"I'm trying to be serious here."

Now, a sigh. "Don't worry about the other night, Tori, its fine."

"No, it's not fine. We were drunk and I just—I don't want you thinking I was trying to take advantage of you."

Jade scoffed. "You take advantage of me? Please, Vega, spare me."

Tori attempted to hide the blatant hurt on her tanned face. "Look, whatever. Let's just watch the movie."

"That was the original plan." Jade shot back, not missing a beat.

Releasing a sigh, Tori got up from the couch, pulling her jacket back on over her shoulders.

"Maybe I should just go."

A crease appeared between Jade's full eyebrows. She paused the movie, and stood up, as well. "What do you mean 'go'"? She asked, intimidatingly.

"I should go. You obviously don't want me here." Tori countered, throwing her arms up in the air. Her voice raised several octaves into a somewhat irritating sheer tone.

The darker haired girl let out a long sigh, and turned off the television. "It's late, Tori."

"It's only midnight."

"Jesus. I'm trying to be polite. Just—stay. You can crash on the couch."

Tori bit down on her lip, and Jade could tell she was unsure of this. She narrowed her eyes at the brunette, until she reluctantly agreed, and then, without another passing glance, retired to her bedroom.

The next morning, Jade caught Tori attempting to sneak out and she suggested they go get breakfast. It went on just about that way for several days. Jade would guilt her into staying with her, and Tori didn't protest.

It wasn't truly that Jade immensely enjoyed the company of the other girl, but although, she'd constantly put up the façade of a loner, she missed being around people. Cat was forever in the company of Robbie, and it somewhat stung Jade to be around couples so in love.

After several days, Tori explained she needed to visit her home and scrounge up some clothes to take back to Jade's.

"Why don't you just get everything?" She suggested, while typing furiously on her laptop.

"Wh—what?" Tori stuttered.

Jade rolled her eyes through the frames of her thick glasses. She set her laptop to the side, and leaned forward. "You've been working part time, saving up for your own place, correct?" She didn't await an answer, or for merely a nod. "You're here constantly. We could split the rent."

"You really want me to move in?" There was a hopeful glint in Tori's chocolate brown irises.

She shrugged in response. "For a little while, maybe 'till you find something better. Interested?" She had taken her computer back into her lap, and continued to type her latest one act play.

Tori nodded. "Yes, very."

Rising her eyes from the screen, she raised an eyebrow. "Just a fair warning: I'm not a good roommate. I can't cook, I don't clean, I drink too much, curse too much, and have really loud sex."

She could have sworn she just witnessed Tori gulp. But still, she threw on a smile, murmured a "Still better than my parents," and bounced out the door.

He'd left so much of his shit there-in LA. How was he functioning without all of his flannel? He had originally owned a lot of flannel, more than an average person should ever own plaid flannel button ups, but he had just left so much. Jesus. Jade shifted through the endless piles of Beck items, ranging from things he had given to her, stuff he had actually owned, and the pile that simply reminded her of him.

There was the occasional night in which she would sleep in a flannel button-up of his. It still had that Beck smell, and although she hated herself for it, and refused to admit it, the smell comforted her more than anything truly did these days.

She'd been drifting off into the sweet sensation of sleep, when she'd heard the treacherous sound of that damn theme song. Although she'd only watched the show a series of times, to support him more so than anything, she could detect the harmony anymore. She felt a chill lurch down her spine and immediately shot up.

She was proceeding to ragefully fetch the remote and change the channel, when he suddenly appeared on the screen. Jade's mouth went dry, as she found herself staring deeply into those eyes that she once loved so much. That she still did. She'd ripped the pictures of him around the apartment down; set the frames face down, so that she wasn't forced to have him staring back at her wherever she roamed. But this stare, undeniable. His browns of chocolate possessed her, and suddenly, she felt as if she may hyperventilate.

The show was actually half-way decent. Beck portrayed a sociopathic teenage boy who enjoyed toying with a multitude of girls' hearts. Not too far off from reality. He played both a protagonist and antagonist to himself, getting into an array of shenanigans and dilemmas, only to be solved by the blonde and so utterly perfect best friend of his, that damn costar with the bouncy hair that Jade despised deeply, the one the press raved over the possibility of having a relationship with that stud, Beck Oliver. Jade felt her stomach churn.

It was sickening to think of him with any other woman, with the exception of her.

She recalled when the show had first premiered, a little over a year ago. Instantly, it was a success, especially among teenagers. Ratings sky-rocketed and suddenly, Beck was an overnight celebrity. And suddenly, as his longtime girlfriend, Jade became a bit of one, too.

She remembered that the times together were tarnished frequently by being chased down by various paparazzi, hounding them with various questions, rumors of a wedding, or a hidden pregnancy, or Beck's infidelity, all of which she knew were not true for sure, excluding the latter.

Teenage girls made hate blogs about her, either wanting to be her or to kill her, because of their undying obsession with Beck Oliver. It wasn't as if she could have blamed them, at the time, for she was also under his spell. She actually found the whole thing rather amusing.

The show continued, the Brooklyn boy antagonist hiding within a protagonist with fluffy hair solving his given problem of the week. Although this character could possibly be the polar opposite of Beck in truth, she couldn't help but feel a pang in her heart. Because this boy still had Beck's face, his hair, his hands, and before she could further help herself, his number was dialed on her keypad.

It was nearing 4 in the morning in California, meaning the sun had just begin to rise in the New York skyline, 3 hours ahead of Los Angeles. The dial tone sounded several times in Jade's ear, and she instantly regretted this decision, and blamed it on the half-a-bottle of wine she'd consumed earlier that evening.

Her heart thudded furiously against her frame, and she grasped onto the nearby nightstand to steady herself, hoping he wouldn't answer and would all in the same stressful moment.

And suddenly, a hoarse "Hello?"

Jade felt like she couldn't breathe. Her mouth was so dry, she wasn't entirely sure she was able to speak. Her heartbeat sped, and she felt herself breathing heavier.

"Hello?" She heard a second time, and mentally cursed herself.

Say something. Anything, she told herself.

"Hi," she murmured, lamely, and cursed herself once more.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the conversation. She gnawed on her lip, nervously, praying he didn't hang up. But why would he do that?

"Jade?" He asked suddenly, his tone clearer now.

He sounded like he had been sleeping, as if her phone call had awaken him, but he hadn't fully woken up until he experienced the realization that it was his ex-girlfriend on the other line.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, yeah, it's Jade."

Crickets.

There was silence until she wasn't sure if he had hung up or not. Although this could be a classic war of who was going to speak first, and it was one she wanted to win, she had to clarify. She couldn't help it.

"Beck?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm still here."

It'd been months since they'd spoken. It felt so surreal to hear his voice, to hear him speaking to her again. She couldn't halt the constant fluttering in her chest that could only be interpreted as butterflies. How cliché she felt.

"Okay." Jade returned, at a loss for words.

She heard a creaking and a shift in movement on the other line, as if Beck were sitting up.

"So-uh, how are you?"

Jade frowned. How the hell did she reply to that? Tell him she was miserable, utterly miserable, that she went to class, physically present, yet mentally absent, and attended work the same way. That the only occurrences that included her leaving her run-down apartment were because of Cat dragging her from the place? That she'd never felt so empty before in her entire life? That she'd had Tori Vega move into her apartment, simply because she couldn't stand the idea of constantly being alone? No, she couldn't tell him that. Not when he was living the American Dream, well, Canadian Dream.

"I'm…um, okay, fine, I guess." She stuttered out.

She heard him swallow.

"Yeah, me too."

More silence.

Then, "Why did you call?"

"I wanted to hear your voice," she breathed.

Jade couldn't stifle her honesty. Perhaps it was the alcohol lingering within the confines of her body, or the effect that Beck typically has on her, but she didn't lie this time.

A sigh flooded her ears. She grimaced, realizing the feeling failed to be mutual.

Neither spoke for a moment.

"I miss you, Jade."

She sat, in awe, for a moment, taken aback by his sudden confession. Running shaky hands through her distraught hair, she sat up in bed, her heart racing.

"But I can't miss you, Jade."

She didn't respond. Her breathing hitched.

"I have this great life here. And of course I miss you. Damn, do I miss you. But there's no possible way we can be together, not right now, at least. So, I can't think about you—what could be with us. Because, one thought about touching you again, kissing you, and I'm ready to get my ass back on a Red Eye to LA."

There were tears in her eyes now. Suddenly, the boy who was never good with words had taken her breath away, and all she wanted was for him to be in her arms, to be back in their old bed—Hell, even to be back in his microscopic RV, snuggling together in the microscopic twin bed. She just wanted him.

And then, before she could stop herself: "I love you, Beck." Her voice was a stifled, miserable sob.

"Jade, you know that I love you." He whispered into the receiver.

A pause, he cleared his throat, and his voice was stern now.

"But I need you to live your life. I need you to move on from me, and what we had, and be fucking happy. Because Jadelyn West, you deserve happiness more than any person I've ever known. And I'm not saying maybe one day, when this show has ended, and you're done with school, and we're in the same city, and still want each other, maybe then. But not now, and you know that, baby, you do."

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I do," she breathed.

"Promise me you'll try to be happy. And promise me if you ever feel overwhelmed, or like you can't do this, promise you'll call me."

"I promise."

"Get some sleep, Jade." He cooed.

She hung up on him, and tossed her phone onto the floor. She collapsed back onto the uncomfortable bed, and shifted until she found a somewhat comfortable position.

A waterfall of tears sprung from her heavy eyes now, to the point where her vision was blurred, and her breath became frequent, as she begun to hyperventilate, and felt as if she could no longer breathe, no longer be. Thoughts of calling on Tori, who was sleeping on the couch just outside her door, came to mind. But she took out her razor instead.

I don't know about this, bleh. Leave me reviews to tell me what you think.