Jake Peralta was stumbling around the streets of New York City, a bottle of beer his only company. It was a cold afternoon, and the sun could already be seen setting on the horizon, casting a bright orange light that nearly blinded him.
"Eight minutes." He mumbled.
He wasn't talking about the time that the light from the sun took to reach the Earth, but he did wish the sun would just disappear, to not have to deal with it, and be plunged into eternal darkness.
"Eight fucking minutes." He mumbled, again.
He kept walking, the bottle still not empty. Soon enough, he found himself in a park. He didn't really know where he was, and he really didn't care enough to look for signs of where he might be. The sun was still setting, annoying his eyesight.
Frustrated, he finished the beer, and chucked it weakly at the sun. It landed on a nearby fountain, making a splash, and making him somewhat wet.
"God damn it!" He cursed his bad luck.
A little back, laying on a small blanket put on the grass, was Amy Santiago, watching this drunk stranger attempting to throw a bottle as far as he could, only to fail miserably. She laughed at that, and the stranger heard her.
"Funny, huh?" His speaking was slurred. "You know… what's funnier? My life. Because it's a joke."
Amy was slightly concerned now, both for her wellbeing and the stranger's.
"I can't do anything right…" He said.
Jake sat down on the floor, back against the marble support of the fountain, and started crying. Ignoring her gut feeling that the stranger might hurt her, she approached him cautiously.
"Here." She gave him some tissue paper. "Tears don't suit anyone."
He picked the tissue up and blew his nose. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"You know, most people would just let me wallow alone."
"You kind of are in my general presence. I would've either called the police or done something myself. Plus, I never leave the house without this." She showed him a small cylindrical bottle.
"What…" He hiccupped. "What's that?"
"Pepper spray. So if you try anything funny…"
"You'll blind me?"
"It doesn't blind you, but it does hurt." She sighed. "You know what? Take the whole pack." She handed him the pack of paper tissues. "I feel like you're going to need it."
"Thanks." Jake hiccupped again.
"I'm going to be right there, okay?" She pointed to the blanket. "If it's urgent, come talk to me. Otherwise, stay here."
"Why can't I go with you?"
"Because I don't know you or your motivations."
With that, she walked back to her spot, picked up her book, and kept reading. The sun was almost gone, so she'd be leaving the park soon, anyway.
"You mind if I put on a song?" She asked him.
He nodded, still crying a bit.
She picked up her phone and connected it to a tiny stereo she carried around with her. She'd put on some classical music, but now she was in the mood for something else. A last song before she left. Opening her music app, she pressed shuffle.
I etched the face of a stopwatch,
On the back of a raindrop,
And did a swap for the sand in an hourglass.
As soon as the song started, Jake lifted his head.
"I know… I know this song."
"Really? I have no idea what song it is. Sounds nice, though."
"It's a sad song."
"Really? Sorry then. I can change it, if you want."
"No it's… it's fine."
The song kept playing. Jake stared at nothing in particular, and just tried to forget what happened a couple hours ago. Amy kept reading, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil that he was going through.
The song soon finished, and Amy shut her book with it.
"How are you going to get home?"
"What…?" He looked at her, his eyes still glazed over.
"I'm calling you a cab."
"You don't have to…"
"And leave you here, in this sorry state?"
"You can call… call one of my friends to pick me up."
"All right. Give me your phone then."
After a lot of unnecessary effort, Jake got up and gave her his phone.
"Unlocked, please." She returned it to him.
He did as he was told, and she scrolled through his contacts.
"Anyone in particular I should call?"
"Re…Gina. Gina Linetti."
"Gina… Gina… Oh! Here she is."
She dialled her and stepped away from him for a while. Listening to these conversations were never nice, and she knew that.
A woman picked up after a while.
"Jake? Where are you? I'm worried sick."
"Hi, this is Amy."
"Ugh. Where's Jake?" She sounded annoyed at Amy, for some reason.
"He's with me. We're at a park."
"What park?"
Amy gave her directions.
"Okay, thanks. Can you stay with him until I arrive?"
Amy looked at her watch. She still had time.
"Yes, I can."
"Thanks."
"You're welco-" But she had already hung up.
Just then, Amy heard a splash. A much bigger one, this time. She turned around to see that the guy (Jake) had fallen face first into the fountain.
"Shit!"
She ran to him and attempted to lift him up. After some attempts, she threw her full force to lift him, and managed to make him fall on the floor. Fortunately, his head crashed into the grass, so Amy wasn't really worried about a concussion. She saw that he was still breathing, which was also a good sign.
"Jake?" She called to him. "Hello? Buddy, wake up."
Whatever happened to him, it must've been serious. She'd never seen someone so wrecked. And she'd been to some frat parties when she was in college.
"Jake?" She called again.
"Mhm." He mumbled.
"Oh, thank God. You're conscious."
He opened his eyes suddenly. She was slightly scared when he got up and went to some nearby bushes, but it made sense when she heard what he was doing. He was throwing up. Amy stepped towards him and rubbed his back.
"Let it all out. It's going to get better after this."
"Is it, really?" He said, in a small voice.
"It usually does."
I heard an unhappy ending,
It sort of sounds like you leaving.
She waited with him until his friend came around. She leapt out of the car, picked him up, and went away without even saying thank you to Amy. She was slightly offended, but payed no mind. Some people were just like that. She looked at her watch and sighed. She was late, again. She texted the other person that she wasn't going to be able to go to the date and went to her car.
While she was driving home, she kept thinking about the man she was caring for. What he must've been through to get drunk like that. She hoped it wasn't a real problem, and if it was, that he'd get some help.
But, alas, she'd probably never see him again. At least she could rest that night without having to think about the date her mom set her up in, and how it would've probably been another disaster.
Arriving home, she set her stuff down on the table near the front door and took a shower. After getting dinner, she opened a bottle of wine, turned on her TV to a random documentary, and then went to bed early.
I heard the piledriver waltz,
It woke me up this morning.
Amy woke up with the loud sound of a truck near her front door. Or, more precisely, those warning sounds trucks do when they're in reverse. Grimacing, she looked at the clock on her nightstand. It read 9:30 AM. She opened her window to see that it was a moving truck. Why it was so loud, she'd never know, but she did see someone enter the building with some boxes in their arms.
Who moved so soon on a Saturday? It didn't matter now, because she was fully awake. May as well get started with her morning routine.
Soon after getting dressed, she heard some commotion outside her door. Really, it was just a bunch of things falling. Immediately thinking that it may be one of the elder residents, she opened the door to help.
Instead, she found a man trying to put his things desperately back in on the boxes.
"Eight minutes." He said, under his breath.
She was confused by that but chose to ignore his comment. "You want some help?"
He turned around, and she could see it was the person that she helped yesterday.
"Jake, wasn't it?"
"How do you know my name?" He was on edge.
"You don't remember? Yesterday, you went to a park wasted."
His face flashed a lot of emotions. Hurt? Discomfort? Embarrassment?
"Yeah, I kind of remember you now."
"Well, good. Since we're neighbours now, it's got to make our life easier." She stretched her hand. "Amy. Amy Santiago"
He shook her hand. "Well, you already know my name but… Jake. Jake Peralta."
They stood like that, with an awkward silence between them.
"Well, if you don't want my help, I'm going back inside…"
"If you want to give me a hand, I'd appreciate it! Somehow, I'm not hungover from yesterday, so this isn't that hard, but there's a lot…"
She smiled. "Okay, sure! I'll help."
It's not like she had anything better to do.
You look like you've been for breakfast at the Heartbreak Hotel,
And sat in the back booth by the pamphlets and the literature, on how to lose.
Jake sighed, and jumped on the couch.
"Finally!"
Amy stared at him. He looked tired. Not necessarily physically (though they did waste all morning taking things out of boxes and putting them in their place), but emotionally as well.
"Well, this was fun. But I think I'm going back to my place."
"Do you have anything to do?"
Amy looked at her phone.
"No." She lied.
"Want to stay and watch Die Hard?"
"Why would I do that?"
"Because I'm nice."
He seemed pretty harmless. Still, as good measure, you can never know.
"Hold on, let me just pick some things up at my apartment."
Quickly going back to her place, she picked up some popcorn, her pepper spray can (which she hid in her jeans) and texted someone really quickly.
She returned to his apartment, only to find him scouring the place.
"What's going on?"
"I can't find my Die Hard DVD." He said.
She pointed to TV stand. "There? I remember putting some DVD's under the TV."
He hurried towards the wooden piece and gasped with relief as he took it out.
"Oh, thank God. I can't bear to lose more things."
Amy was silent at that.
"Maybe… I should go."
He looked at her.
"Rain check?" He asked.
"Rain check."
Your waitress was miserable,
And so was your food.
Amy got home at 11 PM, tired beyond belief.
Another failed date.
The guy who she was supposed to meet the day before texted her when she was helping Jake moving in, and, at first, she said she couldn't go but, after that awkward interaction pertaining to a certain DVD, she decided to take a chance with him. He turned out to be an asshole, and she only stayed out of politeness. She did want to hit him with her shoe, though.
Taking off her high heels and putting them neatly near her other shoes, she stepped into her bedroom and put on her cosiest clothes. It was time for some reading, and then a good night's sleep.
Jake, on the apartment over, was lonely.
Die Hard didn't cheer him up. Taylor Swift didn't cheer him up.
He knew who could cheer him up, but they'd just broken up. Or, more exactly, she'd broken up with him.
He had to move out of her place on such short notice and decided to rent out this place, and, coincidence of all coincidences, the woman who saw him at his lowest point was his neighbour.
He groaned.
"Eight minutes." He said.
That was the time the light from the sun took to reach the Earth, yes. But it was also the time it took for Sophia to break up with him.
"Eight fucking minutes."
That's all it took for his life to be over. Well, that's what he thought, anyway.
He started laughing, loudly, trying to cover his feelings. He kept laughing and laughing, until the tears came and then he cried until he fell asleep.
If you're gonna try and walk on water,
Make sure you wear your comfortable shoes.
A few weeks passed since that first incident, and Amy and Jake didn't really talk. They said hi on the hallways when they passed each other, but that was basically it.
That was, until a bad night.
Amy was drunk. On her scale she didn't know how drunk she was, but she was stumbling and slurring, so it was good enough.
Another date went horribly wrong, and she decided to just get wasted after it with her friends. One of them drove her home and, after guaranteeing she could reach her front door, went to their home.
Amy was on the hallway trying to reach the door, but her key somehow wasn't fitting in the lock.
"God damn it!" She said.
Suddenly, the door opened. Out of instinct, she yelled and punched the face of the stranger.
"Ow! What was that for?"
Her mind took a while to clear, but she could see that she'd just punched Jake.
"Oh my God, Jake? What… What are you doing in my house?"
"Well, I could ask you that?"
"I- What?"
"You're at my place."
She looked at the number in the door. He was telling the truth, and she felt embarrassed by the whole ordeal.
"Sorry." She stumbled backwards, and Jake caught her.
"Woah, woah! Are you okay?"
"Slightly… drunk."
"On a scale from one to ten?"
"No… idea."
"Oh damn."
Soft music was playing from inside his place.
Mysteries flashing amber,
Go green when you answer but the red,
On the rest of the questionnaire,
Never changes.
"Hey… that song…"
"What?"
"It's familiar."
"Come on, let's get you home." He closed the door of his apartment, and Amy stopped listening to the recognizable tune.
"I'm so tired…" Amy supported her full weight on Jake, and he grunted from the sudden effort.
"Hey, calm down! Just a few steps!"
"… minutes." Amy said in a barely audible mumble.
"Eight… minutes."
Jake was slightly surprised a bit at that, but tried to ignore her comment.
"Can I take your keys?" He asked her.
She nodded, and he took them from her hand. Opening the door, they both stumbled inside. Amy went to the couch immediately.
"Aren't you going to your bed?" Jake asked. "Do you want help getting there? I mean, as long as it doesn't bother you, or you don't feel uncomfortable with it-"
"No, I'm fine here. Thank you, though."
"You're welcome."
Jake was going to leave, when Amy asked him a question he didn't see coming.
"You know what happens in eight minutes?"
He froze. He didn't know what to say.
"That's the average time a photon takes to get from the Sun to the Earth."
"A photon? What does that even mean?"
"It's light. It's how much time the light from the Sun takes to reach us. If it went out, we'd never see it again."
"For being so drunk, you're speaking super clearly."
Amy suddenly got up and went to the bathroom. Jake heard some retching sounds and went to check on her sorry state.
"Hey, it's going to be alright." He held up her hair. "It's going to get better after this. Just let it all out."
She laughed, and flushed the toilet, closing the cover. Jake sat across from her in the bathroom, back to the wall.
"I feel like we've been through this before." She said.
"It's the good old switcharoo, I guess."
They both laughed. And then they started talking. The bathroom floor was uncomfortable, so they moved onto the living room. Amy changed to something more comfortable, and invited Jake to the kitchen.
"Are you going to make something?"
"I'm going to drink a lot of water so… yeah. And also, eat like an animal."
"Why not just order a pizza?"
Amy shook her head in disgust. "Too greasy for this time of the night."
Jake rolled his eyes. "There's never a time for being too greasy. Hey! That'd make a good title of your sex tape!"
This time, Amy rolled her eyes. "Just pick up some tea from that dispenser over there. Any one will do. Hot water ought to do well for my stomach."
"More like leafy water."
"Don't be smart with me, Peralta."
Jake played along. "You got it, Santiago."
They kept talking like that for the whole night, ending up in the living room couch. They didn't really stop, just dozed off simultaneously. Through the night, the pair shifted, ending up with Amy in a tight embrace by Jake.
I heard the news that you're planning,
To shoot me out of a cannon.
Amy woke up naturally, only to realise someone was breathing right next to her. She froze, then saw the arms around her and realised they belonged to Jake. She calmed down for a bit, and decided not to move for a while, to see when he would wake up.
Meanwhile, she analysed herself, and the night before. She went on another Friday night date, check. It went horrible, check. She went to a bar with her friends and had an anxiety attack about how she was going to die alone, double check. She went home, check. Threw up and talked with Jake for hours, check. All was in place.
Jake stirred and woke up, only to find someone stuck in his arms. He was happy, until he realised it wasn't who he thought it was. This was Amy, not Sophia.
She seemed awake, so he coughed, and they untangled from each other. He kind of missed her warmth.
"Good morning." He said.
"Good morning."
"Not hangover?" He smirked.
"Obviously not. I have my talents at getting rid of them."
"Well, thanks for letting me stay over." Jake got up. "I'm going home to sleep off this sleepover."
"Sure." She looked at him. "Oh, you're serious."
"I'm always serious when it comes to sleep."
"Noted."
"I bet you actually write these things down."
"No, I don't." She did.
He laughed. "Okay, Amy. I'm going home."
"Well, goodbye." Jake opened the front door. "And hey, Jake?"
He turned around. "Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything."
He smiled, an honest smile. "You're welcome."
And he left.
I heard the piledriver waltz,
It woke me up this morning.
Months flew by, and Amy and Jake grew ever closer. They never talked about the other's fears, they were just there to cheer the other. When one of Amy's dates went wrong, she would knock on his door, and he'd always be there to cheer her up. When Jake felt like crying again, he'd knock on her door, and she'd always cheer him up. The system worked.
Until one night, when they decided to open a bottle of white wine.
"I can't believe you're mixing soda in wine." Amy twisted her nose in disgust.
"It's good man. You have to try it!"
"I'm not going to let you destroy wine."
"Your loss."
They were used to the other's presence now, and everything felt natural. They talked about their day, their jobs, some bad occurrences, some great details, a new show, a new movie. Anything that came to mind apart from emotional significant things.
Until, with the power of five drinks, Amy asked him something she thought she'd ever ask:
"Hey… you know that first time we met?"
"Me wasted in a park? Kind of hard to forget."
"You never told me what that was all about."
Jake went silent. Amy didn't know what to say next, so she filled her glass with wine, emptying the bottle. Not that there was much left, anyway.
"I'm sorry." She said. "It's clearly something sensible and I didn't mean to pry."
"No, no, it's okay." Jake sighed. "It's just hard to talk about. Even after all this time."
"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to."
A pause. "Hell, I'm drunk, I don't have inhibitions. May as well tell you everything."
Amy nodded, and held his hand as reassurance.
"Things started off well enough…" He started.
Jake told her about his relationship with Sophia. How it started off strongly, even though their personalities crashed. He moved into her place after being a year together, and things felt better than ever.
"Guess I just missed the signs. I was just too lovestruck."
He went on to describe the last months of the relationship. Sophia growing more and more distant, and him turning a blind eye to it. Then, the fateful eight minutes.
"It all happened in eight minutes. I know it, because when we met, it was exactly 3 PM, and when she left, it was 3:08 PM. She was never one for extending things beyond the necessary, but it still hurt. Two and a half years just out the drain. She had already packed my things. I was devastated."
"Jake, I'm so sorry." They were both sober by this point.
"No, it's fine. I mean, it's not, but I'm getting by." She squeezed his hand. "You're helping." Amy smiled at that. "Though I don't think I'll ever be over her."
"You can't be sure of that."
"Hey, no one is sure of anything. That's just how life is."
They went quiet.
"Well, that was my big emotional moment. Do you have any?" Jake smirked.
"If I do have any, it's not going to be said today."
"Come on! We're in the zone."
Amy did want to tell him everything. Her crippling fear of dying alone, how her last boyfriend was great and caring, but also boring and too secure. He didn't feel right to her, so she dumped him. Ever since, she'd been on a string of mostly bad dates and, even when some went well, the second date or the third was always awkward. She didn't try to make things awkward, but she felt that maybe she came on too strong (asking if they loved binders wasn't really a smart move).
And she did. She told him that, and this time he held her hand, encouraging her to let her fears out.
They both cried, and they hugged, and their bond tightened. Maybe more than they were willing to admit.
You look like you've been for breakfast at the Heartbreak Hotel,
And sat in the back booth by the pamphlets and the literature, on how lose.
More time passed, and Amy was going crazy. She was sure of one thing, and she really didn't want to admit it.
She had feelings for Jake. It didn't start off as strong as she thought it would, but she was sure now. Was she? Yes. She saw him everywhere. She somehow caught the name 'Jacob' in a crossword puzzle, and that's how she knew she was losing her mind.
She stopped going on dates after that night of confessions. She glanced at her calendar. That had been a few months ago, and she was sure she knew Jake for over a year now.
"What am I doing?" She asked herself.
She didn't want to throw this on him. She knew how much he still liked Sophia. Showing up at his house and going "Hey, I may like you, and I know you have no chance of liking me back!" wasn't really an option, but it was the only thing she could possibly do. Or maybe she could just take this secret to her grave. Yeah, that was worth exploring.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a bang on her door.
"Open up, Ames!" The voice from her dreams answered.
Great, now she was thinking poetically.
"Coming!"
It was Friday night, and what was usually the Disaster Date Day, had turned into Fun Fridays with Fanta (Jake had come up with both those nicknames, he wanted to keep the three words with the same initials).
She opened the door, and he barged in with pizza and, surprisingly, Fanta.
"Hey, you actually brought it this time!" Amy was shocked.
"I always keep my promises."
Amy just crossed her arms and glared at him.
"Okay, fine, I don't need that look." He sat down on her couch. "What are we thinking about watching tonight? How about…"
"We're not watching Die Hard."
"Come on! Please?"
"We've seen it three times already! Isn't it enough?"
"It wasn't in a row."
Amy groaned. "You're infuriating."
"Yeah, and you're annoying. Moving on."
Amy sat down next to him, and they kept their usual bickering.
I could live with this. Amy thought.
I could live with this. Jake thought, as well.
You see, Jake had fallen for Amy as well. He found himself thinking about her when she wasn't around, and he wanted to spend all his free time with her. He was pretty sure he was over Sophia (a year had passed, and all his friends had supported him through it all), and he was ready to move on. But Amy didn't seem interested in him, so he didn't make a move. Why? He wasn't sure. Maybe out of the fear of rejection, maybe because he was scared of losing their friendship.
Whatever the reason, he didn't want to lose Amy.
So, they both kept faking it.
Your waitress was miserable,
And so was your food.
If you're gonna try and walk on water,
Make sure you wear your comfortable shoes.
One night, that all changed.
Amy had lost all hope on getting through to Jake, and he had given up on ever making Amy like him.
"Truth or Dare?" He'd asked her, one Friday.
"Dare."
"Set one of your binders on fire."
She looked at him, mouth agape in shock.
He laughed. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding. Don't kill me."
"I'd rather set you on fire first."
"Ouch. You wound me, madam!"
She waved her hand. "Get Reginald out of this."
"Reginald appears when he damn well pleases. You know I can't control it."
Their banter continued throughout the night, a familiar warmth spreading through both, unbeknownst to the other. Until they've both had it.
"I need to tell you something." They said, in unison.
Amy raised her eyebrows, and Jake chuckled nervously.
"You first." He said.
"I think I like you. Like really like you. I don't know when it started or how but it did and that's how I feel for you. I've been bottling this up for so long but I have to tell you otherwise-"
Jake interrupted her. "Oh, thank God."
"What? What is it?" She looked at him, expectantly.
"I like you too. Romantic-stylez."
He reached for her, and she reached for him. And, in those moments, everything was fine.
Oh, Piledriver.
A few months in their relationship, Amy was about leave his apartment, when something slipped out.
"I'm going to get some groceries. Love you, bye!"
She froze in the doorway. Jake stared at her.
"Noice. Smort."
Amy turned around. Jake sighed and kissed her.
"Love you, too."
