Chapter 2 - The Sound of Letting Go

8:00a.m.

Annie woke up, and her demon was gone. She felt better, like a cumbersome weight had been lifted off her chest. But, this was to be rationally expected. She knew only too well that the nights were always the worst.

She promptly got out of her bed, and strode haphazardly into the bathroom. She popped her iPod into the dock, and chose the first song that 'shuffle' randomly selected.

This is the point of no return, 'cause this is where we crash and burn.

She washed her hair slowly and sensually, bopped her head and shaking her hips to the entrancing music.

It's getting louder and louder, what we're gunna do. It's getting louder and louder, filling up the room.

Today was different. She was going to greet Jeff with a smile. And not be bitter, or selfish for that matter. Britta deserved love just as much as her. Who was she to deny Britta's happiness?

But, wait a second. She had forgotten something. It wasn't really her or Britta who were to blame. It was Jeff. Why couldn't he just choose already? Kissing Annie, and doing god-knows-what with Britta, what was his game?

Screw him. "I'll find someone better," she thought, "Screw Jeff and all his lies and mind games. This is new Annie. Annie Awesome. Yes. I am awesome!" she said, twirling her hands and fist-pumping, but then did a double-take, "Wait. Am I? I'm still thinking of him. That's not being awesome! That's being lame. Stop thinking about him, Annie. Think about trees. Trees are nice. Trees are used to make paper. And paper is used by... textbooks. And textbooks are used by lawyers. And Jeff is a lawyer. DAMNIT, ANNIE!"

She got out of the shower and started drying herself off, and whilst her hair was muffled by her fluffy yellow towel, she heard voices coming from outside the bathroom door. And one of them was definitely NOT Troy or Abed. But who?

It's the sound of letting go.

After putting on underwear for the sake of propriety, she moved closely to the door, and overheard a deep, manly voice of cunning and wit, a voice that could have only been described by two words in the English language. Jeff. (Motherfucking.) Winger.

Annie stepped back, flabbergasted at two facts - that she was half-naked, and in extremely close proximity to Jeff. Not to mention the fact that she was feeling perturbed - Mr. Winger was taking up so much of her post-sleep shower-thinking time. Thinking time that she, Ms. Edison, had such dire need to utilise.

Whilst these conflicting thoughts flew through her sleep-muddled brain, Annie failed to notice a carelessly placed bar of soap on the shower floor, and slipped, crashing into the solid plate-glass shower door.

Bright red blood began flowing every which-way and oozed copiously from a newly-formed vicious gash on her upper arm, now pooling around her now badly bruised hips. Glass had also showered down on her during the fall, and it graced her head like a crown. It apparently had made some cuts on the side of her face, because the metallic tang of her own blood was creating a horrible taste in her mouth.

Before she could rouse her addled brain to pick herself up off the blood-stained tiles, the door burst open to reveal a shocked Jeff, and an interested Abed. "Annie, what happened?" Jeff asked, crouching near her and holding her head on either side with his hands. "I... umm. I fell. Slipped on a banana peel and went for a ride," she smiled, laughing giddily and slurring her words, "but it's okay. It's okay!" she proclaimed, trying to steady herself and stand up, but she winced as she put weight on her hips.

"Annie," Jeff stated in a steady tone, and looked deep into her eyes, "I need you to trust me. I think you've got a concussion, and you're in no shape to walk. I'm going to have to carry you."

Annie blushed at this suggestion, but she nodded.

I can hear it, hear it, coming over us.

He gently helped her regain balance, wrapping her arms around his neck, and hoisting her up by grabbing her, with one arm holding her back, the other on her thighs. Annie knew she should have hated this, she knew she should have squirmed and begged for him to go find Troy, or someone equally as strong to help her. But she couldn't help feel safe in his arms, head against his chest, smelling the scent of old-spice body scrub still lingering on his skin, and listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart.

I know you can hear it. It's the sound of letting go.

Then it all went black.