Whoo, chapter three's finally out! I would like to thank everyone for all of my sweet reviews, they are just brightly colored sprinkles to my otherwise bland life. Also, I'd like to thank my wonderful Beta, Heather. I refused to post this chapter until she FINALLY got a chance to read it and give me her thoughts.
Wow, that started to sound like an acceptance speech for the Oscars.
This chapter's just a tad long, so please try to bear through it all.
This Chapters Playlist:
"The Night is Young", Robin Hood: Men in Tights
"Elephant Love Melody", Moulin Rouge
"Faithfully", Journey
"Can't Take Me Eyes Off of You", Frankie Vallie
"So Close", Enchanted
"The Four Seasons, Concerto No.4 in F, 'L'inverno', Rv 297, I. Allegro Non Molto", Antonio Vivaldi
"El Tango de los Assassinos", Mr. and Mrs. Smith
It's a funny world we live in, don't you think? Watching the people below, they seem to move so slowly, following an organized system that gets them through the day. I can only imagine what's running through their heads.
Left foot, right foot, left, right, left, right. Stay on the right side of the pavement, watch out for traffic. Did I ever pay those bills; was the dog fed last night? Whatever happened to Lisa on the fifth floor? I hope my wife doesn't know. I wonder what my mother's up to, it's been ages. Was I supposed to pick up the kids from school? These shoes are way too expensive, I can't afford them. How much debt am I in now? I'm so exhausted, when will this day end? I really hate my neighbors. Why am I still working there? Left foot, right foot, left, right, left, right. Stay on the right side of the pavement. Watch out for traffic. Don't forget to breathe.
But in reality, they're not moving slow at all, are they? When you actually get down there in the dirty, vile streets of Gotham, it's all fast paced, hectic, chaotic.
Seems like the same can be said for me. My life, where is it going? When will it start? It seems to stand still, motionless in time; just hovering in the air, waiting for that one trigger. Maybe that's why I stand here at this dusty window all the time, watching the people below me. I'm waiting for that trigger. But taking a closer look at myself, I realized when has my life ever been slow? I'm constantly moving, growing. The years fly right by, slipping through my ever aging fingers. True, I'm only twenty-eight, but that's ancient to a six year old. And that's all I ever am at heart; a restless little six year old. At least, that's what she tells me all the time.
I remember when I was six. I used to love to go and greet the mailman every day, hoping to find a letter addressed just for me! Ah, those simple pleasures in life.
Today I got a letter addressed just for me, but I didn't rush up to greet the mailman for this one. No, not for this one. Nononononono.
I wonder where my trigger is. That one thing that wakes me up out of this eternal sleep; the one thing that slows down the constant whirring of the wheels in my head. I'm still searching, looking, hunting, seeking—
The sound of the front door opening interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to see what the cause was.
Oh, there it is. Looks like it found me.
My trigger.
Just breathe.
Opening the door to my apartment, it doesn't surprise me to see Jack staring out the window in the living room; he's been doing that a lot lately. He turns to me and gives me a sort of a half smile before turning back to that tiny little window. It doesn't surprise me either that he didn't notice my arms full of groceries and failed to ask if he could help carry some to the kitchen. He never does.
What does surprise me, though, is how long we've been together now. If someone had told me that Jack and I would be in a serious relationship, I would have laughed in their face; even more so if they had said we'd be together for four years now. But here we are! Right after I graduated from college, Jack and I moved into this tiny little apartment in Gotham. Sure, we weren't on the best side of town and our little flat is in poor condition, but hey. It's home.
Living with Jack at first was a little hard. I had to get used to his insane sloppiness and many quirks that I had never noticed before. Things like his constant twitching when he becomes restless, or how he seems to cut off in mid conversation with me and just begins muttering to himself. But I've been able to overlook all of that, and we have lived very happily together. He has recently adapted this new little quirk, though, and I can tell that this is going to be harder to over look. One minute we could be laughing and joking with each other, having a grand ol' time. But if I say something he doesn't agree with, he goes on this horrible angry rampage. When he gets like that, he's inconsolable. I've tried to keep him calm from these random little tantrums, but they've seemed to just get worse and worse. He's really starting to scare me, but do you want to know what frightens me even more? That I still love him and can't even bare the thought of moving out. I must be out of my mind.
I still remember that night we "officially" started dating. It was about two weeks after the infamous "Drunken-Karaoke-Date-Night", as Jack so fondly named it. I had been trying to avoid him at all costs ever since that first date. That night he held my hand on the stage really meant nothing to me, just a friendly gesture, if you will. Jack, however, treated it as if we had just proclaimed our unending love for each other. The very next day he called, and called and called. When my classes got out, he would be there just outside of the classroom. No matter where I went, he was already waiting for me. No matter how hard I tried to get away, I was forced to be around him constantly because he was such good friends with Chelsey and Vinnie.
So, two weeks after the first date, Chelsey invited me out to dinner at this nice little sushi bar in Gotham. Chelsey and I were roommates at a little college on the outskirts of Gotham, so it was always a treat to go into the city. I arrive, and tell the hostess I was meeting a friend, and they promptly lead me to my party. I turn the corner, and who should I find waiting in my designated booth? None other than that creeper, Jack Napier himself. I stay calm as the hostess seats me, and wait until she leaves us alone to start talking.
I lean across the table, and whisper harshly, "What do you think you're doing here?!"
"Aw, my little Space Cadet, I'm happy to see you too." He leans across the table as well, placing his hands next to my clenched fists.
"Oh, stop it! Seriously, what are you doing here? I'm supposed to be meeting Chelsey, not you."
"You see, that's where you're wrong!"
I groan as I understand what he meant. "She set this up, didn't she? She never intended to have dinner with me at all. I'm going to kill her." I say the last part more to myself, but not really caring if Jack hears.
He snorts in laughter, and begins clapping loudly causing to restaurant to turn and stare at us. "You are correct, madam!" he announces to the whole world. "Someone give this fine young woman the grand prize."
"Cut it out!" I hiss as I grab his hands, trying to force him to stop clapping. Of course, this ceases his mock applause immediately.
"Alright, Jack. Let's behave like adults, ok? Now, I'm going to have dinner with you, but only because I'd hate to waste a trip to Gotham. Got it?"
He smiles widely, and says in between chuckles, "Yes ma'am."
"Good." We stare at each other for a moment before I look away quickly. I always get uneasy when I stare into his eyes for too long. When he doesn't say anything after a few minutes, I look back to him only to see that hadn't stopped watching me since I looked away. He's sporting an arrogant smirk with an eyebrow raised.
"What?"
He says nothing, but looks down at the table, then back up to me, his smirk now turning into a grin. I look down to see what he's gesturing at, and gasp slightly. I have been holding his hands this whole time, and tightly, might I add. Instantly I rip my hands away, and begin nervously playing with my hair. Why does he always make me feel so jittery?!
All through dinner we have polite conversation, some not so polite thanks to Jack. He pays for both of our bills, which catches me off guard. I didn't think he was capable of being a gentleman. Before I can escape to my car and leave him in the dust, he grabs my arm and leads me into a park across the street.
It was really late into the night by this time, so walking out in the park might not have been the best decision. We were in Gotham, for crying out loud. Strangely though, with Jack I didn't feel all too worried. We begin asking each other questions; little things like our favorite food or our favorite movies. The more we went on with the little question game, however, the more personal the questions got. Eventually, I get around to asking him about his family, but this only makes him really fidgety and he quickly changes the subject. Once we couldn't think of anymore questions to ask, we simply walk in silence down the cobblestone path, staring straight ahead.
"Maeve?"
I turn to see that he stopped, and is looking upset about something. "Yes?"
"Am I really that repulsive to you?"
His words cut me like a knife into my heart. No matter how many times I've said that I couldn't stand him, I have never found him repulsive. "No, of course not." He doesn't look too convinced, so I continue. "As much as I sometimes hate to admit it, you really are…pleasant to be around when you're not goofing off."
He halfheartedly smiles and shrugs. "I can't help it when I goof off, it's what I do." His smile fades, and he grows silent once more. "Do you wanna know something, my little Space Cadet?" he asks after a moment.
"Sure."
"That first night I saw you, I didn't think you were real. The way the moonlight bathed you, how you seemed to glide instead of walk…I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing! You looked so perfect, like…like you didn't belong on this planet."
I stand there shocked, my mouth slightly agape. I can feel my heart pounding inside my chest, it's a wonder I am the only one who can hear it! Why is he doing this; letting his guard down? The whole time I've known him he rarely ever is serious, he's always joking about something.
Jack's chocolate brown eyes meet mine for a brief second before turning to the pavement. In that brief second, though, I could almost see into his soul. Insecurity seeped out from his gaze, tinged with just a hint of anger. But there was something underneath all of that I can't recognize, something I am unfamiliar with.
That fleeting gaze tugged at my heart-strings, and I wanted nothing more than to comfort him somehow.
Jack turns away from me slightly, his eyes focused on the ground. "But I guess I'm now finally realizing that I'm the only one who has these feelings, so—"
"You're wrong!" I blurt out unexpectedly. All these emotions swirling in my head, they wouldn't let me stay silent any longer. No longer will my heart continue to stay dormant, it needs to feel. Ineed to feel. All of these confusing emotions, only now do they choose to let me understand them.
"You're wrong. I couldn't take my eyes off you the night we met; I still can't without feeling…flustered. I constantly think about you, always anticipating when I'll get to see you next. When you're not around, my thoughts become all hazy and confused. I begin to think that I can't stand you, and of how much I hate you. It's only when I'm near you does my mind become clear and I realize that what I'm really feeling is the exact opposite of hate." I stop to take a breath of air, and look to see Jack's response.
Now is his turn to stand shocked in his place, his mouth slightly agape .Unsure, I slowly walk over to him, and nervously take his hand, all the while questioning if I really should be doing this.
"Listen, I'm sorry about the way I've behaved; I know I haven't treated you all too kindly. It's only now, for some reason, that I've realized what I've been feeling all along. And it's all just so sudden, I-I don't really know what to do about it."
Jack remains glued to his spot, still speechless. What was he thinking; what was running through that head of his? The silence becomes increasingly unbearable.
I close my eyes, and sigh heavily. "Please say something,Jack."
And he does, but not with words. He cups my face with his free hand and tells me all that he has been feeling with a kiss. A kiss filled with confusion, fear, sadness, and passion.
We separate after what seemed like eternity, his hand playing with some strands of my hair. He chuckles suddenly, and asks me, "Did you seriously just use the word, 'flustered'?"
Life used to be so simple, some people say.
Remember the good 'ol days, Jim? Yeah, sure do Hugh. There's nothing better than fond memories of a sweet childhood!
Yeah, what a crock. I don't see myself saying anything like that anytime soon.
Or ever.
I can't recall ever having a fond, memorable day while growing up in that shit -hole of a town. But what am I jabbering about?! I must be crazy! How could I not have loved the sweet, soothing melody of my parents screaming their lungs out at each other right before bedtime? Or how about when the first thing I heard when I woke up was my mother sobbing to herself, yet again. Who wouldn't miss their father telling you that you were a mistake constantly, and who would sometimes threaten you at gunpoint if you got on his nerves. Oh, waitwaitwait! I know a good one! How about the day my father was sent away?! Mommy, while nursing her new split-lip, told me that Daddy went on a little vacation and wouldn't be back for a long time. Little did she know that I saw the strange men take him away, and that he barely put up a fight. He practically skipped away with glee. Sheesh, he must have really have wanted to get away from us! Ha ha ha ha ha!
But where was I? I can't seem to remember…maybe it'll come to me eventually.
Have you ever lifted five-hundred tons? I have, in fact I am right now. This unopened letter in my hand, addressed just for me; who knew that this tiny paper envelope would weigh more than my Granny-Wanda on Thanksgiving Day?!
Ha ha ha ha ha.
I'll be here all night.
Maeve used to laugh at my jokes. That is, when she finally fell for my good looks and witty-charm. Took me about two weeks to finally make that girl mine. But recently, she hasn't found my wise-cracks to be that funny anymore. Hmmm, better work on my material. Note to self: No more jokes about babies in blenders. Heh-heh.
Which reminds me! Did ya hear the one about the—
Nonono, stop it! Focus! Think happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happyyyyy…
"Jack?"
Maeve's voice startles me; I have to shake my head to clear my thoughts. She had once told me that when she was near me, her head would become clearer. If only she knew how much more incredibly true that is for me. Only now, it's getting harder to get out of this constant thick fog.
"Jack?" Maeve calls out again patiently. She had grown used to him not hearing her the first time.
"What, what do you want?" Jack spoke with a little more bite in his tone than he intended, annoyed at being so suddenly ripped out of his thoughts.
Maeve purses her lips slightly, but decides not to start an argument tonight. Not on this night. "Dinner's all ready. Hurry up and sit down before it starts to get cold."
She moves over to their tiny kitchen table that she had just specially decorated, and takes a seat. A cheap tablecloth covered the plastic table top, along with a few candles, plates, wine glasses and a bottle of Merlot she had just bought from a store when on the way home. On the table lay a bowl of mashed potatoes, peas, and a plate with two cheap steaks. Truly, this was fine dining compared to the usual plastic cups, paper plates, and boxed macaroni. It's Jack's favorite meal.
Jack walks over to the table, sitting in the only other chair they owned across from her. He appraises the luscious meal laid out before him, and smacks his lips greedily.
"Wow, babe. This looks great!"
Maeve smiles appreciatively at Jack, and begins to place food on Jack's plate, then hers. "I'm glad you think so. It certainly wasn't easy to make."
"What, opening a can of peas requires culinary expertise?" Jack shovels food into his grinning mouth, making sure to avoid the glare he was sure to be receiving. After a few mouthfuls of food he finally managed to swallow, Jack takes his full wine glass and empties it quickly down his throat. He refills his glass to the brim, and takes another big swig.
"Well, this is really nice, sweet heart. It's definitely better than the usual…feast we dine upon. What's the occasion?"
Maeve's fork stops mid-travel to her mouth. "Are…are you serious?"
Jack says nothing.
"You've got to be kidding me! I can't believe you forgot what day it is!"
"…recycling day?"
Maeve slams down her fork and pushes herself out of her seat. "You're really something, you know that, Jack? Today just happens to be our four-year anniversary. That ring any bells?!"
"Oh", Jack says meekly, taking another sip of wine. "I guess I just forgot."
"That makes it ok, then?!" Maeve shakes her head in disbelief. "Do you know what I went through to get this food, those plates, that tablecloth, the wine?! I took on a second job just so we could afford it!" she shouts.
Suddenly, Jack tosses the wine glass across the room and shoves himself out of the rickety old chair, causing it to fall to the floor with a loud thud. He rushes over to Maeve and fiercely grabs her shoulders, shaking her as he shouts back at her. "Hey! Don't you go blaming me for our money problems! You know I'm trying my best to find another job."
Maeve could feel her arms going numb from Jack's iron grasp, her eyes growing wide in fear. He tightens his grip even more with his fingernails digging deep into her skin; his voice turning into a low, harsh growl.
"Maybe you should stop wasting what little money we do have on the pointless shit you buy. Make-up, new clothes, dinner plates, tablecloths?!" He releases Maeve from his grasp, blood now trickling from five tiny crescent-moon shaped marks on each of her shoulders. He rips the tablecloth off of the table sending everything to the floor with a crash. "We can't afford this God-damn CRAP."
Maeve stands rigidly rooted to her spot, helplessly watching the scene unfold. Tears overflow from her eyes, her shoulders slightly stinging. Jack grabs his hair, tugging at it with clenched fists, and slowly lets out a constricted sigh. He looks back up to Maeve, his expression softened and mood abruptly changed. Delicately, he walks over to her and tenderly pulls her into his arms. Once Maeve was in his embrace, she begins sobbing uncontrollably.
"Shhh, shush now", Jack coos while holding her tighter. "It's all right. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry." He begins stroking her hair, resting his head on top of hers. "You just don't understand what I've been going through recently." Maeve lifts her tear-stricken face up to Jack, her brows furrowed together in desperation.
"Then help me to understand!" she pleads. "Tell me what's been going on with you. Recently you've had these intense mood-swings, and I just don't get why. Are…are you depressed, upset? Are you unhappy with me? Please, let me into your world for once; don't endure this burden all on your own!"
Her watery eyes lock onto his tired browns, and slowly he lets go of her. Without a word, his face solemn, he reaches into his back pocket, producing an unopened letter. He hands it to Maeve and walks sluggishly over to his window, resting his head on the glass. She looks it over, her eyes growing wide at what she finds. Confusion engulfs her mind as she stares at the address from where this letter came from, hoping it'll reveal its purpose to her. A thousand questions are all pleading to be asked, but she can only mutter one in a shaky breath.
"Arkham Asylum?"
Just breathe.
