{Part two}
...
"even the seasons change but our love still stays the same."
…
New York get's old fast.
When he first got here he loved it. The people they lived, not quite like the way they did in Lima, or even in Los Angeles. The buildings were taller, the skies were bluer, the sun shined brighter…
But what could he do with buildings? Skies? A sun? Nothing. Not alone at least. He missed his family He missed Puck and his mom and Jayden and Quinn and Marley. He really missed Marley. He just felt all by himself in a big city where people lived, but failed to care.
His first semester he barely sees her. They try to skype each week, at least, but last minute dance rehearsals and meetings with important record producers at karaoke bars and dates with (mainly her) friends come in between soon enough. He can't help but feel she's better at this, at making friends and fitting in and letting go.
Days, turn into weeks and it's Christmas before he knows it. Snow is sticking to the ground and the wind has turned so cold and sharp that sometimes he avoids going out.
They all come visit him though. Puck and Quinn and Jayden. (Not Marley. Marley's all the way across the country, trying to make a career. Marley's spending time with other people during Christmas. Marley's slowly forgetting about him.) He doesn't close the door for a few moments after Quinn enters, carrying Jayden, because a small part off him hopes he'll see his girlfriend enter after her.
It's ridiculous, he knows. He knows he shouldn't expect her to be here when he couldn't even go see her either. But fuck, life in New York was expensive and he was all alone in his dorm room and sometimes he'd rather be lonely on his room then go see her and realize everything has changed and that he's losing her. So he doesn't save up any money. (He keeps telling her he needs it for dancing supplies and he sees the disappointment in her eyes but as soon as he starts asking her about her classes at UCLA and how the journey of getting discovered is going she's all smiles and laughs so he figures she doesn't care that much.)
And he feels like a dick because wasn't he the one convincing Marley they'd get through this? And now after barely two, or three months (he lost track) he was already half giving up before even trying. He tells himself it's all right, because that's what he did before her.
She texts him daily though, asks him which presents he got for Hanukkah and telling him she envies him because of the snow and carelessly throwing around how much she loves him. And she just fucking does that, making him miss her even more.
"Cleaning this place certainly would be better for your health," Quinn scrunches her nose as she kicks away one of his boxers that's lying on the floor.
"Well hello to you, too, Quinn." He rolls his eyes as he leans down to hug Jayden, who immediately starts telling him what he missed while he was away. Puck makes some stupid joke about a Ms. Pillsbury or something and he doesn't know who the fuck that is but she laughs and it's like he wants that, you know? He wants to make stupid jokes with Marley about people no one remembers, and wants to make her laugh and he wants to do so much more.
"So, how are your classes going, prima donna?" Puck smirks as he sits down on the bed and he's being a dick but at least he's not complaining about the mess.
"They're tiring but it's what I love," he emphases, raising his eyebrows because people might call him offensive fucking names because of what he does, but he will never ever apologize for doing or loving something he loves. (Just like he'll never apologize for loving Marley even though people continuously tell him they're wrong for each other.)
He watches Quinn carefully wipe all of his clothes off his desk chair and sit down, straightening her skirt with a disgusted look on her face. She kicks against an empty coke can with her foot, shaking her head to herself.
"Mommy, your mouth is doing that weird thing again!" Jayden giggles and he can't help but smile because Quinn's disapproving duck face is basically one of the things he never realized he missed so much until he got to see it again.
"Thank God we have reservations at the Four Seasons," she mutters and she's a stuck up bitch but he's happy because he did miss his family and having them here makes him happy. So yeah, he's happy. He's allowed to be happy even if Marley isn't the cause, right?
"So, Bella the ballerina, did they give you the role of the swan queen yet, because that is something I'd love to see."
…
He finally gets to see her again during winter break. It's fucking February though and he hasn't seen her since August. Fucking August, last year. They're in a different year now.
He knocks on the door of her dorm and she opens and he doesn't think he's ever hugged anyone this tightly before. It's then he realizes all those months of only phone calls cut short because of essay's due the next day and Skype sessions with horrible internet connections and quick texts in between classes telling her how much he hates all the stuck up elite dancers on this school were worth it. Because he still has her and he still gets to hug her even if it isn't every day.
He buries his face in her hair, because he can and she feels even tinier in his arms then he remembers and she smells even nicer and her smiles even brighter than he could recall.
They spend most of the time in her room and he doesn't even bother to ask where her roommate is this time because he fucking gets to kiss her and touch her and make her moan his name into his neck and he gets to smile for entire days again so no, he doesn't care where her fucking roommate is.
She takes him to a small karaoke bar in Hollywood and she gets him a little bit drunk and makes him sing stupid songs that makes him fucking glad he knows nobody there and she reminds him once again why exactly he can feel it in his bones that she's going to be great one day.
"I really missed you," she whispers tiredly against his chest while they're watching some dumb sitcom about the seventies and presses her body closer to his, presses his fingers tighter between the tiny spaces separating her fingers and presses his lips against her head softly.
"Me too," he mumbles and he's so tired but he wants to spend more time with her but she's drawing circles on his stomach under his shirt with her fingers and it's so soothing and she's humming so quietly that soon his eyes droop closed.
He has to leave too soon and she almost cries but he won't let her, because this isn't goodbye. He'll see her in a couple of weeks.
Somehow she convinces him again that it's all worth it, and he promises himself he's going to try harder this time because she's worth fighting for and fucking distance isn't going to screw them up.
…
After his visit it's like things fall into place. It's like his mind just needed the reassurance that she would be waiting for him and that he wasn't just wasting his time waiting around for her.
They make time for each other now, and if he has an early day the next day he doesn't hesitate to talk to her on the phone until three a.m. because she's Marley. He likes hearing her talk about everything and nothing much more than studying the history of East-European ballet in the early eighteen-hundreds. Marley was much better than his required classes.
"I miss your smile," he can basically hear the pout in her voice when she says it, one day when he's about to enter his dorm. He's tired from all his classes and he got asked to perform at the Spring formal in April and he's taking this modern dance class in which the teacher is a fucking pain in the ass, but he couldn't ignore her phone call.
"I miss your smile and blue eyes and I miss running my hands over your smooth skin and your lips— God, I really miss those lips of yours," he smirks in response as she interrupts him, her tone warning but somehow begging all the while, "Jake."
"I'm sorry, babe. I just miss you," he chuckles and she lowers her voice, "I do, too, so much— but you're lucky you're not on speaker because my parents are in the other room. They came to visit me."
"Of course I'm lucky, I have you, don't I?" He teases her and she narrows her eyes, forgetting he see her.
"Oh, but, Jake," she mocks him, "I'm the lucky one. I mean, with your smooth moves and annoying smirk and ever-growing collection of leather jackets and your tendency to be late. Let's not forget the fact you're totally broody one hundred percent of the time or your glorious taste in music—" He cuts her off, sounding quite offended as he retorts.
"Hey, my taste in music is awesome."
"I basically call you a douche bag and that's what sets you off?" She asks him, obviously sounding as disbelieving as she can.
"Baby, no one insults my music because you're the music in my heart," he uses the voice he used to hear Puck use all the time on Quinn, all silky smooth and disgustingly sweet.
"Oh, wow, no," she shakes her head to herself, although she can't not smile at his behavior, "I think I just threw up a little."
"You know you love me."
"That's why I'm starting to doubt my sanity."
…
She comes to see him in the Spring formal and stays with him the entire Spring Break— which is fucking awesome if you ask him.
She hugs him as soon as she meets him backstage and he doesn't even notice Quinn and Puck because she's here, and he hasn't seen her for a while besides on a laptop screen (that didn't quite function for a hundred percent anymore after he spilt orange juice over it when Marley showed him a picture of her new bikini— or more like her in that bikini, posing like she was a fucking Victoria's secret angel and fuck— and it's the second computer he destroyed because of her).
"You were amazing!" She gushes, hugging him again before placing her lips on his. She doesn't even care he's all sweaty and shit which is totally awesome, too.
Puck clears his throat before Marley lets go of him and steps aside. Puck offers him a hand, patting him on his back before telling him, "You did a great job. I really admire the way you move so gracefully in those tights, dude. When are you getting your dick removed?"
Jake rolls his eyes before pushing him a little, "You cried during your wedding, asshole."
Quinn cuts her husband off before he can make one of his oh-so-witty replies and smiles at Jake, "You made me cry, and no one has been able to do that since this loser knocked me up while we were still in high school. Well done," she smirks, nodding towards Puck, who lets out a deep sigh, muttering something about 'letting shit go' before she reaches over to hug him. She stops though, scrunching up her nose (he wonders if it's New York that makes her do that so often or just him), "Eww Jake, you reek."
"Thank you," he gives her a look before turning a bit more serious, "Thank you, really. The fact that you're all here while you hate ballet—"
"We don't hate it," Marley interrupts him. She's hugging herself and her eyes are so honest and open and he really loves her, you know, for actually meaning the shit she says.
"I do," Puck exclaims, and Quinn steps down on his foot, glaring at him.
He shows Marley the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty and a bunch of other old buildings he knows she'll love because it's her first time in New York and he wants it to be so special she'll always want to come back. (Little does he know that everywhere he is, she'll go.)
"It's so beautiful," she gushes— the Subway sandwich on her lap long forgotten— as she breathes in the air of Central Park.
He chuckles, taking a bite of his sandwich as he nods his head all the while. She turns her head towards him and laughs as she uses her thumb to wipe some sweet union sauce from the side of his mouth.
He mutters a thanks before taking another bite, because he's hungry and he hasn't even eaten breakfast because Marley insisted on going to the top of the Empire State Building before it got too busy.
"Thank you for taking me here, Jake."
"No problem, babe, I knew you'd love it here," he scrunches the left over wrapper up and puts it down next to him on the bench. She smiles, and it widens to probably ten times its size when he smiles back and she puts her hand on top of his, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"I love you," she tells him and it's just this thing now. She just says it whenever she wants and she just does it and makes it heart do funny jumps and he loves it.
"I love you too, Lee," he picks up her hand and places a kiss on it before they both enjoy the silence (besides the quiet chatter of other people and the sound of the big city around them).
"Marley?"
"Mhm?"
"Are you going to eat that?"
…
"We need to talk."
She texts him, a few weeks before summer, and for a moment there, he's scared shitless.
He calls her and she doesn't pick up and what is he supposed to expect? That night they skype and he's fucking relieved when she doesn't tell him they're done or some shit.
"Tell me," he leans closer to his laptop screen, because she keeps changing the damn subject and if she doesn't want to break-up with him, then what is going on? She's sitting on her bed, her hair up and one of his t-shirts (one of his fucking t-shirts, it's weird but it kind of makes him feel proud) on as she fumbles with the strings on her shorts. She shrugs and he can see the smile she's trying to hide.
"I can't tell you, I was sworn to secrecy. If I do, I'd have to kill you."
"And how are you going to do that? You're going to strangle me through the screen?" He raises his eyebrows as he taps his finger on his desk impatiently.
A laugh bubbles up her throat and she even throws her head back and God, she makes his heart do weird things. When she's finally calmed down, she puts a few loose strands of hair behind her ears, "Okay, I'll tell you but you have to promise me not to tell anyone."
"Promise, hurry up."
"Wow, you're very impatient today, Jake."
She is fucking teasing him and normally he wouldn't went along but he'd like to know, very, very much.
"Marley."
"Yes, Jake?" She smiles, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth and even when he hates her he still loves her.
He just raises his eyebrows as he stares her down to the screen and she finally gives in, sighing.
"The other night a record producer approached me and offered me a record deal."
He almost knocks over his computer for the third time because of her and wishes he could hug her right now because that is fucking amazing.
She suddenly looks so crestfallen, so sad and he feels his stomach turn. "What's wrong? I thought that's what you wanted."
"It is, it's just.." She shakes her head to herself, shrugging as she lets out a deep breath, "He wants me to work on recording a demo this summer."
Oh.
"You mean, this summer as in the entire summer?" He swallows hard because they talked about summer so much. Finally being able to spend more time together than just a few days, a week at max. They would go swimming and they would babysit Jayden again and they would get ice cream and he would purposely let her push it into his face just to make her laugh.
She just nods and she's staring at her socks and he feels like fucking shit but he won't let her notice because this is all she ever wanted, all she ever dreamed of— long before she met him. He can't— he won't get in the way of that.
So he forces himself to smile, and mean it, because she deserves this and she's worked hard for this and this makes her happy and if he has to sacrifice one summer, he'd do it. "That's awesome, baby."
He tried hard enough because she finally breaks into a smile and tells him she loves him. (And he loves her so he's doing the right thing, right? He can't be selfish with her.)
A few days before summer she calls him though and all he hears is sobs and a strangled try at what he thinks is his name.
He finally gets her calm enough to tell him what happened, by telling her to please stop crying, baby because I hate it when you cry.
"They canceled the c-contract," she chokes on the last word and he can't tell she's doing everything she has not to burst out into tears again. "He said I wasn't sexy enough."
"Is he fucking blind?" It's the first thing that comes to mind and it's fucking true. She's hot as hell and she's sexy and beautiful and how could this guy ever reject her? Her voice was magic.
"Some other girl was willing to pose topless for her album cover and, and I told him—"
"That you have a boyfriend who will cut off his manhood if he asked you one more time?"
She laughs and he feels so relieved because she's laughing and probably smiling and that feels so good.
"You're beautiful, Marley. And talented," he tells her, "And sexy. That guy is fucking dumb for letting you go."
"Thank you," she says softly, and she sniffs but he can hear the smile in her voice and that's all that matters.
He does get to spend the entire summer with her though, and he knows it's fucking selfish but he'd rather have him to herself than share her with the entire world.
…
During his second year at Juilliard they almost break-up.
It just escalates. It always escalates when they fight, but this time it's worse. It's like they're standing on the edge of a cliff and they're pushing themselves off.
"I was busy, Jake," she hisses as she presses the phone harder against her ear.
"Right," he bites back, "That explains the pictures of you on Facebook with Unique and that Asian chick having the time of your lives at some booze fest."
"Like I said, I was busy," she tells him, her voice cold and he knows she's just trying to hurt him and he shouldn't go down that path because when he loses his fucking temper, he hardly ever doesn't hurt anyone (physically, emotionally, whatever).
"So you were busy with that guy, too?" He huffs, glaring and he doesn't even remember she can't see him but he's holding his phone so tightly it might break and he's just so pissed off. He's never felt this jealous in his life before and she's making it worse by pretending she doesn't care (like being apart isn't worse enough already) and she's just playing it off like it's nothing. (Nothing, like what they have isn't even remotely more important than some lame college party with lame college guys.)
"Yeah," she snaps, her voice sarcastic, and she's so mad— mad because he's pissed off at something stupid, mad because he lives so far away, mad about everything. And frustrated, she is so frustrated. "He was the guy of my dreams, Jake."
"Well, great. I hope you had a great time fucking him," he spits before hanging up and throwing his phone onto his bed and he's trying so hard not to hit anything and he hates her, he hates her so much.
"Maybe we should just break-up," she texts him in a frenzy, her fingers faster than her mind.
"Sounds good to me."
He could have any other girl. He's had offers, plenty offers— he just never really told her because he didn't want her to worry about nothing. (And now she's fucking rubbing some guy in his face that she met at a party. A party.) He could, and they could make him feel just as good as her. She wasn't special, she wasn't different— she was a bitch and just as different as the next girl. He's glad they're breaking up. He doesn't need her.
He has her fucking picture on his nightstand, on the background of his phone, on his desktop, her face was the first thing he fucking woke up to in the morning. Literally and figuratively. What more did she want?
Maybe for him not to say stupid shit. Just because he couldn't find the right words didn't mean he should use the wrong ones.
He tries to contact her various ways, but she doesn't respond.
"Sorry," he writes on her Facebook wall and she responds with an 'I love you' and he tells her the same and it's fucking perfect because they didn't break up and at least now that loser knew she was taken.
They get like fifteen likes and Quinn's one of them and she comments, "Lol, I love it when you're an ass and then turn all soft and cheesy. ;)"
"Well, I loved it when we weren't friends on Facebook yet," he types as a response with a smile and Marley likes his comment and she liked his comment because she still likes him and she loves him and she doesn't hate him and they're together.
And later that year when she's kissing his nose because he just said something cute and he frowns and scrunches his nose because he doesn't do cute and she laughs anyway he's really fucking glad they didn't break-up because no one could ever make him feel like she does.
…
She spends Christmas with her family and he spends Hanukkah with his video games. His mom wasn't coming home this year again, and Puck was visiting Quinn's mom with her and Jayden. He hangs with a guy from his class one day and that's it. He didn't really have anyone else.
"Hey stranger," she laughs as he opens the door, burying a hand in her hair as he mutters in between kisses that he missed her.
She reaches up to kiss his cheek, her lips cold and her legs shaking as she tries to keep herself warm. "It's freezing," she exclaims before he lets her in.
He lives in a small apartment now, it's not much and located in a pretty bad neighborhood but at least he has a private bathroom. His mom keeps sending him money because apparently she's doing really well in Europe and since he got a scholarship and a part time job at some coffee shop he's able to afford it..
She takes off her coat and beanie, her cheeks red and small snowflakes in her hair. "I can't believe you're wearing a t-shirt. You're insane," she tells him, wiping some lip gloss off his cheek.
"Well, I intend on wearing nothing later," he raises his eyebrows suggestively as his fingers slip under her sweater, ghosting up her back and causing goosebumps to raise from the small of her back to the nape of her neck.
"Later, huh?" She locks her arms behind his neck and she feels even thinner than he remembers and even looks a little bit taller and he forgot how much could change in a short period of time.
"Or now," he suggests as he throws her over his shoulder and heads straight to the bedroom.
It takes him about four days to realize she's really here, with him and he guesses the distance is slowly driving him crazy. It takes him four days to stop panicking whenever he can't find her within one glance around his bedroom and to stop holding her hand so tightly she winces slightly. It's all starting to take it's toll on him and he can't wait until they're finally free from school and can live wherever they want.
…
He goes to see her during Spring break and when he holds her in his arms, he can practically feel her bones sticking out but when he asks her about it she says it's because of the stress. At the time, it made sense because she just got offered a deal by some big shot record company and was recording an album while still trying to keep up with all of her classes. He didn't want to push it either, because he knew she'd always been a little bit self conscious of her body and didn't want to make her feel bad about being skinny.
She still looked perfect to him and she still acted the same and she still smiled the same. She was still his Marley.
"I can't wait to get out of school." It's snowing outside and there's nothing on TV, not for him at least, so he's forced to watch an old episode of Gossip Girl (instead he's texting with Puck about a football game).
"Me neither," she tells him as she sighs and snuggles deeper against the fabric of his sweatshirt.
"Will you come live with me?" He mumbles before he knows it and her head shifts, so it's resting on his lap as her eyes look up into his. "After graduation?"
"Maybe, if you learn not to leave your dirty socks around the entire apartment," she grins and he sighs dramatically. "Seriously, Jake, the other day I found one in the kitchen cabinet. The kitchen cabinet. What is a sock doing there?"
"Well, then I guess you'll still be living with Tina next year," he tells her idly as he puts his iPhone down and takes the remote in his hands.
"You're a jerk," she huffs, sitting up Indian style and crossing her arms.
He zaps to another channel and she gasps a little, as she tries reaching for the remote. "Hey, I was watching that!"
His grip is too strong and holds it above her head, and she pouts a little, "You're such a child, Jake."
He lets out a chuckle, as he cocks an eyebrow, "Says the one pouting like a little girl."
"Ha," she sticks out her tongue as she yanks the object out of his hands and switches the TV back to the previous channel.
"Wow, real classy, Lee," he tells her as he tries taking it back but she won't have any of it. In a swift movement they tumble over and fall to the floor, he winces a little he lands on his elbow but she laughs (like actual laughs with tears in her eyes and trouble to breathe) and stays right on top of him.
"You should've just let me watch Gossip Girl, Jake," she informs him, tilting her head slightly and he pulls her towards him, locking his arms around her waist.
She lets out a small giggle as she leans down and presses her lips against his, her hair framing their heads.
When she presses her chest against his and he can practically fucking feel her ribs he starts to wonder if being that skinny is even remotely healthy because it sure doesn't feel like it.
…
She doesn't really eat around him and he doesn't really think anything off it because it isn't any of his business when or what she eats. That is until he hears her hurling in the bathroom after breakfast when she thinks he's still out getting milk.
He doesn't say anything when she leaves the bathroom and she smiles at him (one that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up) but when they go out for lunch, he offers her a brownie.
"No, thank you. I had a big breakfast," she tells him, lying so fluently it kind of scared him.
"No, you didn't, I was there," he basically shoves it up her face (he doesn't care, he just wants prove this isn't true, that he was hearing things, that he was dead wrong but all she was giving him was reasons to be worried) and she scrunches her nose, claiming she doesn't feel good.
"So that's why you were throwing up?" He asks her, putting the brownie down and there's this serious tone to his voice that makes her blood run cold. "This morning, I mean?"
She frowns, putting her cutlery down. She'd been picking at her salad all lunch and if she couldn't even finish a fucking salad— then how bad was it really?
"Were you spying on me?"
"That's funny, that didn't sound like a 'Yes, Jake, I have the flu that's why I was puking my guts out in the bathroom earlier'," he narrows his eyes at her and she yanks the brownie off the table, taking a big bite. "There, you happy now?"
"Ecstatic."
They don't talk the entire way home and when they get to her apartment she locks herself into her room. He might have hurt her feelings but, shit, what if she really wasn't eating?
"Lee..." He tries as he uses his knuckles to knock on the door softly.
"Go away," she says and she's literally breaking his heart right now. She sounds sad and drained, like she's been crying.
"I'm sorry, okay? It wasn't any of my business and I shouldn't have said anything—" she opens the door and she's crying again and he feels like a dick again and it's just fucking painful for him to see her so broken.
"You were right," she swallows hard as she wraps her arms around herself. "I haven't been eating, not as much and when I do, I..." Her voice trails off as she stares at the space behind him. The bathroom.
"Why?" He practically yells and he knows it's not her fault and he shouldn't yell but fuck, fuck, fuck. "Why would you do that?"
She shrugs idly, a tear rolling down her cheek and leaving a black stain. "I'm sorry."
He closes his eyes for a moment, cursing himself. "No baby, don't— don't apologize."
"I just— everyone in LA is so skinny and then one girl at a party told me that on TV you gain at least twelve pounds and— I had this photo shoot the next day so, so I tried it once and—" he cuts her off, and fuck him for not being good with words and there goes absolutely nothing, "Listen to me, you're perfect. You're beautiful, you don't need to lose weight for fucking anyone. You're perfect, okay?" He sounds desperate but he is, he so is because she needs to stop— she has to stop because who know what could happen if she continued this? He can't.. Lose her.
She nods, her face in his hands but something tells him his words weren't enough, not really.
It scares him. How easily she went from happily ordering two desserts (and finishing his) and wiping the chocolate filling off her twinkie on his face before kissing it off and enjoying a bowl of popcorn during movies to absolutely hating food. It scares him because if that happened so gradually but quickly without him even noticing, what about him? What if she ever ends up hating him?
He's afraid to ask her. Besides he never really talks about his feelings and he's not about to start when she's obviously in need of him. He can't be the weak one, not right now.
Later when they're curled up on the couch and he's pretty sure she's asleep and he's left wondering why exactly (because she never did answer that), she whispers, "Do you hate me?"
"What?" He sits up a little and she takes her head of his chest and rubs her eyes carefully.
"I mean... I'm not easy to be around— especially not right now," she says just loud enough for him to hear as she plays with the rim of her dress.
He reaches out and touches the necklace around her neck (it's no longer a cross but a small diamond heart he send her for Valentine's day), "I love you, I thought I told you that before."
She remains quiet for a while as she wraps and unwraps her finger around the end of her dress, her eyes fixed on anything but him. He hates seeing her like this, he hates himself for not knowing how to make it better. He can't find the words to fix it, he can't. He doesn't know how to fix it any other way so basically he's fucking screwed. He's so desperate he's willing to try about anything.
"If you smile through your pain and sorrow, smile and maybe tomorrow, you'll see the sun come shining through," he tells her seriously as he nudges her a little with his elbow, and she looks up at him, her eyes slightly widened with surprise as she bites her lip.
"Did you just quote a song?"
"It's ancient, I thought you wouldn't notice."
"It's Charlie Chaplin, Jake."
"Well.. Busted?" He smirks and she smiles and he made her smile with a stupid joke that wasn't even funny, so that's progress, right?
"I hate you," she buries her head into his shoulder and closes her eyes. She hates how easy he can make the thoughts go away, and how he's not always there to do so.
He leans down to place a kiss on head, as he smiles, "Me too."
…
School started a few days ago and he knows he can't keep missing his classes because that basically means his graduation will be delayed with another and that's another year without Marley— but he can't leave without making sure she's fine. He just can't.
"Are you still here?" She sighs, putting her keys down on the counter as she slips out of her shoes and collects her hair, tying it together.
"How was school?" He asks as he fills his mouth with more cereal, to be honest he just woke up.
"Fine," she sounds a little on edge, as she puts away her shoes before coming back to the kitchen, "How is yours going? I mean, now that you're not going and all?"
"I told you— I'm not leaving until I'm sure you're okay."
"Jake," she begs, before she sighs, running a hand through her long hair, "I'm not.. Okay."
"See? Now—"
"No, I'm not okay, but I'm getting there. You don't have to worry about me. I don't want you to risk getting kicked off school for one of my stupid problems," she tells him as she sits down at the breakfast table.
"It's not stupid," he snaps because he can't ever have her think this is just a stupid little thing, because it's not. It's endangering her life, for God's sake. That is not just a stupid little thing.
"Look," she puts her hand over his, the other one landing on his thigh, her eyes soft and gentle and he just wants to make it all go away. "I love you for doing this, okay? But I need to do this on my own. I'm not saying I'll be going to McDonalds any time soon but I ate breakfast today and lunch and I did it on my own."
"Yeah, but I want to help you. I don't want to look back on this later and think I should've stayed."
By now he's put down his spoon and boring his eyes into hers, because no, she's not going to win this one.
"You are helping me, Jake. By going to school and telling me how great your solo went or how much you hate your modern dance teacher and checking in on me so much it feels like I'm choking," she jokes but he doesn't think it's funny. Not even a little bit.
"Marley, I can't leave you all by yourself. Look what happened last time," he retorts, grabbing onto her hand tightly.
"I'm not alone, Jake. I live here with Unique and Tina and you're just a phone call away, right? If I feel like... If I feel like doing anything I'll, I'll call you."
She's winning again and he hates it.
"Promise?"
She nods her head, using her hand on his thigh for support as she leans forward to brush her lips against his. "I promise."
"I don't know, Lee. It just sounds like you want to get me out of here as soon as possible."
"That's not fair, Jake," she leans back, letting go of his hand. "Of course I want you here with me. But you can't expect me to accept that you're giving up your dream because of me."
"What are my dreams going to do for me when I don't have you?"
"Jake, I promise I won't do it again. You're going to have to take my word on this," she puts her hand on his forearm, "Please."
Eventually he gives in, because he always gives in to her and when a few months later she posts a picture on Facebook of her and her friends, (a big tub of ice cream in front of them and a smile on her healthy face) he thanks God he trusted her, because he could've never fixed her that well himself.
…
It's October, his senior year, when he sees her face for the first time on a billboard. A fucking billboard in the middle of Times Square. He stands there like an idiot for a minute because— is that his girlfriend?
It's his girlfriend with her face hugely displayed in New York's most visited place. The first thing he does is call her and she almost screams into his ear and he finds out her album sold a lot of copies already and they want her to do a tour and he all he wants to do is hug her, but he can't.
He goes home and listens to her voice on repeat and he's just really fucking proud.
…
If he thought he got to see her too less the last couple of years, he was dead wrong. Marley's on tour and he's busy trying to get hired by a company (any company at this point) by doing really good at school and then his mom comes back (from Hungary or Switzerland or wherever the fuck they speak German) and he has literally no free time.
He gets to see her during New Year, though and she tells him another one of her dreams came true. New Year's Eve in New York. His entire family is there (because like Puck said 'what the fuck are we gonna do in Lima? Might as well sign ourselves up for a spot in a nursing home'), this time including Marley and his mom (and they get along, holy fuck, they get along and that had been one of his biggest fears all this time— but to be honest who wouldn't like Marley?) and he kind of feels complete (and like a totally wuss but tonight he'll overlook that).
She just flew in from Utah and she looks really tired but she's wearing these pretty diamond earrings he send her for Christmas (or Hanukkah, he's still not sure how they're going to work that out) and his favorite smile and she's just really perfect. He knows it's a total chick thing to say and usually when people call their girlfriends perfect it's total bullshit because no one's perfect, right? Right. Well, wait till you fucking meet Marley Rose.
He needed a little bit of quiet after Quinn was yelling at Puck for feeding Jayden a bit of champagne and his mom was loudly singing along to the songs on the radio after drinking a little bit too much of said champagne. So yeah, a little bit of quiet was nice and he found it on his balcony.
"So, you sure you got room in here for all my platinum records and important awards?" She puts her arms around his shoulder from behind, pressing the side of her face against his back. He grabs onto her hands, which were resting on his chest.
Now it isn't just a stupid half serious joke which results into a half an hour long make out session, or a casual mention over dinner how lonely you were all by yourself in this lonely apartment. It was serious. It was fucking scary because now there were only so many more ways this could go wrong and how he could screw up but something about the look on her face didn't make it so scary at all.
"What about school?" Just getting the obvious out of the way.
She lets go of him and he faces her. She shrugs, offering a, "I could always go back."
He nods tightly, holding in his smile, before he squints his eyes a little, "What about your parents?"
"They said it was fine, besides I'm twenty-one. Legal in every country."
"Tina and Unique?"
"Skype. Visits. Maybe they'll move here. I mean, I've heard the people here are great."
"What about the money? Can you even afford to live in this apartment with me?" Now he does smile because this just turned into a complete bullshit conversation. She's coming to live with him and he's so fucking happy he might forget all about the firework and his family and just lock them in his room. Their room.
She laughs this time, teasing right back, "I think I can scramble together a few dollars. What's the rent? Thirty bucks? Twenty?"
"Very funny, Lee," he narrows his eyes at her before locking his arms around her waist, resting his hands on her lower back.
She tilts her head a little, nodding her head to herself, "I thought so." She looks at him, her eyes turning serious all of a sudden, but her smile still teasing, "So, what do you say, Mr. Puckerman?"
"I'd be delighted to have you around to work on my nerves every day, Ms. Rose."
She slaps his chest playfully, before adding, "Just take the poster of me down, that's awkward if I live here."
"But I'm like your biggest fan, I would like never, like— Oh my God," he retorts in a monotone voice before he smirks and she leans up to kiss him.
"Shut up, okay?"
"Your wish is my command."
…
The first week she's living with him they go see a basketball game.
"I can't believe you're rooting for the Lakers when you live in New York."
"I was born and raised in Los Angeles, babe. Once a Lakers fan, always a Lakers fan."
"Well, don't look at me, I lived there for three years but I'm still for the Knicks." She raises her eyebrows at him as she points a finger at him before disappearing into the bathroom.
"How could you do this to me?" He mutters as she comes back, clad in a Knicks jersey and shorts, smirking. If he wasn't so against the Knicks he would find her need to fit into New York by supporting a basketball team very adorable (he still does anyway).
"You're on team Knicks, yet?" She asks him sweetly like she doesn't know exactly what she's doing to him.
"You're hilarious," he deadpanned, shaking his head as he pulled her onto his lap. She leans down, putting both of her hands on the sides of his face before connecting their lips for a brief moment.
"We could just.. Not go?" He squints his eyes a little, smugly looking at her as he runs a hand over her bare thigh.
"No, we're going, Puckerman," she laughs as she gets off his lap and takes out a Knicks cap, "So do you want to wear it or should I?"
"I bet you a hundred bucks the Lakers are going to win," he challenges her and she crosses her arms, "Okay, but let's make this interesting."
"Whatever you want your consequences to be, Lee."
She huffs, "Loser does the dishes for a week."
"Naked," he adds and she laughs.
"No, not naked. Just the dishes."
"Deal. Get your gloves out of the closet, baby, because you're going down."
He can feel people watching them from the corner of his eyes, he hears the whispers about her name and he feels kind of creeped out by the fact people are taking pictures of them, and that they're on twitter not even a minute later. His mentions get blown up by people he doesn't know, either telling him he looks cute with Marley or that they think he couldn't be worse for her (and that was the nicest one of those). He doesn't know how she handles it.
She's so excited for the game even though he has to explain everything to her, twice. She doesn't know shit about basketball which makes it all kind of funny. She keeps clapping at the wrong moments and jumping when the Knicks score and encouraging players she's never even heard of. He guessed that was the best part of going to a game with her, anyway.
The Lakers are about to lose, just his luck. He knows he's on for a night of pure torture.
"So, Jake," she starts innocently, "I can't see the scoreboard from here. What does it say?"
"Hilarious," he pretends to be focused on the game. There's still a few minutes left. They could still win.
"Come on, Jake, please just help me out here." She's full on taunting him now as she nudges her shoulder into his.
"It says I'm never taking you to a basketball game again."
"Oh, I thought it said you were a big, sore loser?" She smirks as he looks back at her, a little bit surprised (because when had Marley ever been good at quick comebacks).
"Fine. The Lakers are behind on the Knicks." He shakes his head, pulling her hand onto his lap. He plays with their fingers as he tries to watch the last few moments of the game, it's hard though because she keeps pushing and pulling on his fingers playfully.
"Stop it," he mumbles, placing a kiss on the back of her hand and she leans towards him, her warm breath hitting his neck as he stiffens, his jaw tightening slightly as she starts to fucking whisper, "Jake?"
"Mhmm?"
"The Knicks just won."
The buzzer goes off and he turns to face her, "You're a tease."
She shrugs a little before taking a sip of her coke, and she's so fucking frustrating and she drives him so immensely insane but he still loves her more than anything in the world (even more than the Lakers).
"Maybe, but at least I'm not the one doing the dishes for the rest of the week."
"Can we still do the part I suggested too?"
…
He's hired by a company in New York two weeks after he graduates. They tell him it's because he shows promise but he knows it's because he fucking rocked his final showcase.
They're out to celebrate at a really fancy restaurant, not because they like it—because they were both raised with little money so steamed oysters and frog legs weren't really their thing— but because at least here no one will be allowed to take a damn picture of them.
It wasn't the normal people who came up to them and asked Marley for an autograph or a picture that bothered him, because they actually liked her, but it were the people who shamelessly took pictures to sell them for money that did.
At least Marley had a reason to put a pretty dress on, even though he didn't really care what she wore.
"Tina called me the other day to tell me she was engaged," she tells him over the first course and he nods, finishing the food in his mouth before answering, "Really?"
"Yeah, came as a surprise to me, too. His name is Mike Chang. Unique told me they were one of those corny couples. Haven't been apart since they met," she takes a sip of her coke.
"I hate those kind of couples."
"Hate to break it to you, but we might be one of them."
"No," he tells her sternly, "Please, let me keep part of manhood. We're not corny."
"You still have my CD on repeat in your car."
"That's supportive, not corny," he convinces her (and himself, they're not corny or cheesy or dependent— he just likes being with her all the time but it's not like he dies whenever they're apart. They spent most of their fucking relationship apart. Even now. She tours and his agenda is already full with rehearsals and shows for his company, he might tour soon too— they're apart all the fucking time so he might be a little bit more emotional when he does see her. Not corny.) She just laughs, putting her hand on his cheek and caressing it with her thumb.
They're in their pajamas, watching a movie before bed because it's kind of their thing. Staying up late and watching movies they've seen so many times before it's not even remotely social for them to do any more.
"Who calls their kid Lorraine?"
"The same people who chose to bring twelve children into this world," Marley turns to face him, taking her chin of her knee.
"That is fucking insane. I mean twelve?"
"How many kids do you want?" She yawns because it's like that now. They just talk about that sort of shit— marriage and children and dogs and the future— because it's kind of normal for them to assume they're going to be together forever now.
He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer, "I'll know that after the first one."
"When?"
He starts kissing her neck because he's still good at avoiding the serious shit even though it's bound to come up again one day.
"Jake," she smiles as his hand slips under her shirt and her hand automatically rests on his chest. "I asked you something."
He stops kissing her neck just long enough to breathe a few words, "I don't know, babe, but I think we could practice right now."
She giggles as lays her down on the couch in one swift move.
"Fine, but after the first time I'll decide if we're doing it again any time in the near future," she mocks his words as he takes off his shirt.
"So, I should make it worthwhile?"
She teases him, running her fingers up his chest, before wrapping them around his neck and pulling him down for a sweet kiss. "Very, very worthwhile, it's probably your last time for a while."
…
"you give me that hummingbird heartbeat, spread my wings and make me fly."
…
( A/N lol, we're on a hiatus with a lot of awesome spoilers, what'd did you expect? so yah, I hope anyone likes this. I'm not sure, it's like I know the words in my head but can't get them onto paper. I know the parts about breaks and shit might not be correct but I'm not from the US and Wikipedia is only valid when it is. Also, sorry if my way of handling Marley's eating disorder was a bit strange I just don't know how Jake would react. I changed a few things in the last chapter, too, wasn't all that certain about the last parts. Please leave a review it'd makes we wanna throw myself into a tornado out of love, ya feel me? The songs I do not own: Hummingbird heartbeat by Katy Perry and Smile by Charlie Chaplin.)