AN: I don't know why but I really like writting desperate-needy Beck. He's just so calm all the time on the show that it's fun to write him losing control, I guess. Please, please review? I need more excuses to smile like a demented chesure cat...

Warnings: Language

Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious.

Chapter Two
I Don't Know Who I Am When You're Gone

Jade's not here. I'm sitting here in one class or another, and Jade's not here. I'm sitting here, playing unruffable like I'm supposed to, and she's not here. I want to see her. Even if she won't talk to me. Even if she hates me.

I just want to see her.

Well, okay, that's a lie. What I want is to slam her up against the nearest solid surface, look her in the eye, tell her I love her so damn much it hurts, and then kiss her until we're drowning. Until we're BeckandJade again.

Of course she broke up with me. For real this time. So she'd probably kick me in the balls the moment I touched her, but still. I have to try, right? And keep trying. Until she takes me back. She has to take me back. And I know I'm starting to sound like creepy-can't-move-on guy but I don't really give a damn.

I can't move on.


I corner Cat after class. Neither of them would ever admit it, because when Jadelyn August West threatens her even Cat can remember to keep her mouth shut, but she's Jade's best friend. She can tell me what kind of game Jade's playing right now. Why she left me. How she could leave me. How to fix this. Because I have to fix it.

"Hey, Beck!" She greets cheerily. Now there are two ways I can do this. I can be an ass and manipulate Cat's good intentions and child-like innocence until she accidently reveals something she shouldn't. Or I can be a complete bastard and intimidate the poor girl until she tells me what I want to know.

The first option is probably best. Even as out of sync as I am without Jade by my side, I don't think I could coerce Cat to do anything. I love her like a kid sister, and I can't stand to see her cry. Let alone, make her cry.

"Where's Jade?" This is a warm up question, really. Jade is probably at home right now. There aren't a whole lot of other places she could go during school hours. But I need to know how hard I'm going to have to push.

"Uh..." She hesitates, eyes all wide and innocent. "Did I tell you about my-"

"Cat." I cut her off, hands clamping down on her shoulders. I'm not playing the distraction game. Not now. This is too important. "Where. Is. Jade."

"I don't want to tell you!" Cat cries. Loudly. I can feel the curious eyes of our classmates, but I can't bring myself to care.

"Tell me!" I'm shouting, I never shout, but I can't stop. And my grip is tightening so much I know it has to hurt, I'd never hurt Cat, but I can't let go. She knows why this is happening, and I don't, and she has to tell me.

"No! You'll make her cry again!" And Cat's crying. I made Cat cry. Why did I do that? I love Cat. I should stop. I should just stop. Because who the hell is this? I wouldn't do that. I couldn't do that. I'm Beck, and I'm Mr. Cool and Collected, and nothing affects me. I don't do this. I don't scream and shout at the sweetest girl in the history of ever, and I don't make the people I care about cry.

Andre is pulling me off her. Hadn't I let go? I meant to let go. Robbie is glaring like I've just killed his puppy. I didn't, but I made his, their, our Cat cry, and that's so much worse. Tori is looking at me like she's never seen me before. Because she's never seen me this way. She's never seen me without my Jade, without my heart. Isn't everyone a monster without their heart? And it doesn't matter because I'm running.


You'll make her cry again!

The words echo in repeat over and over again in my head. Cat's tears burn my memory like acid. Andre and Robbie's rage boils beneath my veins until I feel sick. Tori's disbeliving shock stings with electricity. Who the hell am I?

You'll make her cry again!

I don't know where I'm going. I'm just going. Going. Gone. I'm lost because it doesn't matter where I am, I still won't know how to be Beck without Jade.

The tears I haven't let myself shed are falling now. And, no. No, no, no, no, no. Because if I cry then it's really over. If I cry then she's really gone this time. If I cry it means she's not coming back. And it's not; she's not; she will.

But the tears won't stop. They slash down my cheeks, while broken sobs force their way through my lips. My chest aches and burns and throbs.

And I'm crying.

And it's over.

And she's gone.

And I'm running.

Because everything is a goddamned lie.