Disappointment. We have all experienced it one time or another in our lives. Maybe it's when you got a bad grade on something you worked hard on. Perhaps it's when you didn't make the soccer team, or during a hard breakup.

Sometimes, it's bone-crushing, outright devastating disappointment. Other times, it's just a flicker, something you'll forget in the next day or so.

What about doubt? How many people can believe in themselves when everybody around them thinks they are wrong? Can you stand up for yourself even when forces- humans or something else- is pushing you down?

Does doubt ever affect disappointment? What about when you really liked that one guy, and you were too scared to be rejected to ask him to dance? And then, you watch enviously, maybe shedding tears as you watch some lucky girl dance with him. You wished you were that girl- confident, cool, and popular. But maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't doubted yourself, you would have danced with him.

Or that guy in your grade who is just hooked onto drugs- it's too late to save him now. Maybe, if somebody had supported him, told him that he would get through this- or even if he had convinced himself he was strong enough- he wouldn't have been in the hospital right now, nothing more than a mere shadow.

When you're disappointed, you most likely beat yourself up about it, thinking about how you could have tried harder, pushed yourself to your limit. But sometimes, you have pushed yourself harder- harder than most people would've. Perhaps it was because of other forces- such as when other people doubt you, or your ability.

Does doubt in somebody just make disappointment inevitable?

JPOV

My life had become completely and utterly meaningless, both to me, and those around me. By some tiny gene, I had inherited my father's alcoholism, and I hated that. How could one, microscopic little thing, hidden somewhere, deep in my body, change my life so much?

After my mother had died, my father had become cold and calculating, to a degree even slightly crazy. He had resorted to drinking to drown out his fears, preferring a blurred reality to the actual thing. Not that I blamed him, of course. Reality was a harsh place, and it was a bitter world.

I would rather dream.

But somehow, I had become just like him- drinking until I couldn't see straight any more. People had expected it, so that was who I had become. Pandemonium, full of scantily clad girls, and people grinding each other had become normal to me. And the girls that came up to, enthralled with my looks? I welcomed them, feeling good that at least they found me interesting enough to flirt with.

I was the heartbreaker to them. One girl after another, after another, all of them faceless and nameless had ended up in tears because of me, at one point or another. It didn't matter to me, because tears made you stronger. To love was to destroy, my father had told me as my mother was lowered into the cold, empty ground. And I had believed him, being the little ten year old I was. All I knew was that my mother was gone, apparently in a better place, but she had left me to get there.

Money? It didn't mean a thing to me. My father was a successful businessman- or more like he had been before my mother had died. After that, he had sold his multibillion company to some new, up-and-coming entrepreneur.

The same company he had promised me I would own someday.

So the money he had earned from it meant nothing to me. It was just paper with no value whatsoever. Material things meant absolutely nothing to me- hell, I could buy the whole Abercrombie chain and have enough money to go to college six times if I wanted to. And what I hated most about that was that while I had so much money, there were people struggling just to stay alive, and there were people dying of diseases.

And yet, I was nothing more than arrogant, with an ever- present smirk that girls fell for each time. I was nothing more than a boy who had a fortune to spend all alone once his madman of a father, who hoarded his money like a greedy dragon.

Oddly enough, even though I firmly believed that to love was to destroy, I didn't want to be alone. I had never found one girl, though, in all of the girls I had met and briefly dated, I never remembered any of them. None of them stuck out- they all tried too hard to fit in.

Last night at the club had been hard, and I woke up red eyed with a pounding headache, looking one the other side of me. I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized there was no girl next to me. I had brought home girls, and had had my share of drunken sex.

My best friend, Sebastian, lay next to me, obviously dealing with the hangover, as well. It obviously hadn't been too long, and I was still partially drunk.

Alcohol. The thought of it tantalized me, taunting me like that bully that teased me, back when I was six years old. I gazed helplessly at the half-full bottle of vodka, almost as if having a stare-down with it.

Finally, I gave in, taking a great swig of it, and welcoming the sear as it went down my throat.

"And good morning to you, Jace," Sebastian groaned, automatically reaching for the Advil on his nightstand. "Damn, what a hangover!"

"Your fault for getting so drunk," I shrugged, and he laughed, the sound loud and slightly obnoxious.

"As if you didn't get drunk. What about that vodka you're drinking right now?"

"So? You don't hear me complain," I shrugged. "Hey, did you see that girl you attempted to flirt with a couple nights ago?"

"No," he moaned. Sebastian had been captivated by an elusive redhead, who had been wearing modest clothes, and while she wasn't exactly standard beauty, she had her own beauty. He'd tried to flirt with her, but she'd just ignored him, preferring to stand in the sidelines while her friend danced.

I glanced at the clock once. "Shit! Work," I gasped, running a comb through my hair while brushing my teeth in an attempt to look halfway decent. Sebastian tossed me my work shirt, and I scrambled, looking in the mirror, pulling on some mostly clean jeans. Then, before I left, I took a quick swing of vodka, grinning and then heading out.

New York had gotten cold, bitterly cold, and I shivered a bit. I knew guys were supposed to be all macho and not care, but it was too cold not to. It had been too long since I'd been outside like this- usually I hailed a taxi to take me to work, but it was a waste of time, not to mention money. New York had changed on me while I'd gotten drunk and partied.

And I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

I saw Alec, grinning and giving a girl a hug. That wasn't just any girl. That was the same girl who Sebastian had fallen in love with. I snorted to myself. Typical Sebastian, trying to hit on a taken girl. I had to admit, watching Alec talk to her, it sparked something in me. Jealously bloomed in me, and all I wanted in that moment was to have somebody steady to rely on. Sebastian, he was wild and untamable. I needed firm ground to stand on, and that was one of many things money couldn't buy.

Money couldn't buy me happiness, either.

I took a deep breath and walked inside, telling Alec, "It's my shift, go have some fun," wincing internally as I heard my voice slur a bit. "Nice girlfriend," I added, winking at the red head, who looked at me with an expression I couldn't place.

Sympathy? Disgust?

"Jace, you're drunk," Alec said softly, pushing me gently towards the door. I didn't argue; I knew as well as he did that if I stayed here, I'd do more harm than good. But still, I felt guilty. Alec had done my shift way too many times ever since I'd been working here.

The girl peered at me curiously, and I flashed a grin at her- the one that always made girls swoon. But somehow, she didn't seem affected- or if she was, she wasn't showing it. Instead, as I left, she turned back to Alec, and I swear I heard him say my name.

He whispered something in a hushed voice to her, and she nodded, sympathy shining in her eyes. So they were talking about me.

I hated the sympathy, the look people gave me when they knew my story. It was as if they were saying, "My life sucks, but your life sucks more."

I already knew just how much my life sucked.

The girl turned and left, waving goodbye to Alec, coffee in hand. He smiled once, turning back to his work. Again, I felt guilty. He should be leaving with her, but instead he was working my shift.

"Jacey," an overly-sweet voice crooned in my ear, and I turned around to see Aline, my on-and-off girlfriend standing next to me.

"Hello, Aline," I nodded briefly.

"Gee, Jace. I feel loved," she said sarcastically, extending her arms for a hug. I obliged, blocking my nose from the sickly scent of her perfume. Everything about Aline was superficial- you couldn't find one real thing about her.

I kept her around occasionally because she wore practically nothing, and we were friends with benefits, nothing more. Although sometimes, I wasn't completely sure she understood that.

"You're drunk, aren't you," she said flatly, not as a question, but as a statement.

"Yeah," I replied, not caring what she thought. I partied, met girls, had sex, the end. I guessed in a way it was harsh and cruel, but it was how I'd lived the last three years of my life.

I was a player, the guy that made every girl who ever met him fall in love. And then I had broken their hearts, every single one. To me it was absolutely nothing more than a petty game, and strangely enough, it was okay. I had done this so many times, I couldn't even count the number with all my hands and feet. It was a strangely surreal experience, breaking a girl's heart. They were so fragile at first, but then they turned angry, and then they weren't so seemingly gentle anymore.

Aline rolled her eyes at me, and I grinned back.

"I will never understand why girls take to you so much, Lightwood."

"Oh, I think you know why, Aline," I responded, waggling my eyebrows a bit, to which she replied to with a laugh.

"I find Sebastian more attractive. Speaking of which, is he single?"

"Apparently, since the girl he obsessed over is taken," I snorted, gesturing towards Alec.

"Really? I heard-" here she leaned over confidentially, her voice a whisper, "That he's gay."

"Dunno," I shrugged. I didn't know much about Alec, only that he was pretty shy, and that he was nice enough to help me out.

"Oh, Jace. When will you stop being so absorbed in yourself?"

"I am not!" I protested. She pointed to a mirror in response, to which I smiled at myself, fixing my hair again. Her only response was a pointed glare in my direction.

"Okay, so maybe I'm a little bit vain. But I can't help it! Look at this face, and this body," I said.

"Look, I gotta go take some more photos," she told me, gesturing to her camera. "But while I'm gone, try to deflate your egotistical brain, would you?"

"You know you love me," I called out to her as she turned around walking away, her heels clicking on the pavement.

When I didn't get a reply, I shrugged, turning towards home.

Some things never changed.

A/N: Ughh horrible endings -_- They usually come pretty fast to me, but for some reason this story is harder to write endings for.

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