I know, believe me when I tell you how long it's been. I have more 8 chapters written of this, and I thought it would do good to publish them.
Can't promise when I'll be able to post more.
Have fun, those who still read around here.
606- Boulevard of Broken Dreams
walk a lonely road the only one that I have ever known
Don't no where it goes but it's home to me and I walk alone
I walk this empty street on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone
I walk alone, I walk alone.
I walk alone, I walk a...
(…)
My shadows only one that walks beside me
My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone up there will find me
Till then I walk alone
Boulevard of Broken Dreams – Green Day
Joey lifted her eyes from her book, eyeing Audrey. Their relationship was still shaken, fragile even, but at least civil; however, the previous year's warmth was gone, and Joey had to admit she missed a brighter Audrey. Probably it wasn't only about what Jen called 'the Pacey situation'. Something was definitely off, a lack of spark and vivacity that were all Audrey. Like she had been replaced with a somber and darker version of herself.
Audrey laid on her bed, grunting a response to Joey's greeting. She closed her eyes, trying to lock the world away; while she measured up the mess, she was currently in and tried to find a way out.
"Audrey, what's wrong?" Joey asked concerned with her paleness and the dark circles under her eyes. It was clear that Audrey had been losing weight since the semester started, her nights were filled with partying instead of studying and more than once Joey heard her in the middle of the night paying her compliments to the porcelain goddess.
"There's nothing wrong, I'm just tired, I had the most boring class ever," she lied. What a joke, she thought, a place where she was scarcely seen were her classes.
"Audrey, you don't look good and I know there's more going on than what happened with us and Pacey," Joey argued.
"You're so caught up in your melodramatic life that you think all my problems can be reduced to a pathetic love triangle or square or whatever you want to call this?" Audrey yelled, sitting straight on the bed. "I couldn't care less about you, Pacey or any other stupid that gets involved with you. Grow up, Joey, there's more going on now than your rose-colored world can reach."
"Audrey, it's…it's not like that," Joey stammered, slightly shocked with her outburst.
"You know, Joey, forget it, it's not like I can trust you anyway," Audrey stood up, grabbed her purse and stormed away. "Don't wait up for me."
Joey stared at the closed door, guilt creeping inside her., feeling the worst friend in the world. Audrey could deny as much she wanted, but Joey knew the whole situation with Pacey had a part in Audrey's current state. Sighing, she picked the phone, needing to hear Pacey's voice to soothe her. She dialed the well-known numbers, waiting anxiously.
"You've reached Pacey Witter's voice mail…."
Pacey groaned staring blankly at the computer's screen. He was tired, cranky even and still had tons of paperwork waiting to be done, numbers to be figured out and on top of that, he still had to study for the brokers' exam. He glanced at his watch, wondering how much time he had before leaving if he wanted to talk to Joey before she headed to Hell's Kitchen. Not much. Sighing, he returned his attention to his work. He would have to talk to her later.
Distracted by the tons of work he had, he didn't even notice Rich approaching with what could be called the National Archives due the amount of files and folders.
"Hey, Witter," he called, dropping the papers on his desk. "I thought you could take a look on these over the weekend."
"This weekend, as in Saturday and Sunday?" Pacey groaned. Rich couldn't be serious.
"No, this weekend as in Easter's weekend. Of course, I mean this weekend, Witter. Got a problem with that?"
"Rich, I have to study, and I'm only able to do this over the weekend," Pacey started.
"Well, it's the small price you have to pay for being one of our best here, Witter. I'm just asking for dedication."
"Ok, ok, you won," Pacey grunted in defeat, staring at the papers in front of him.
"Have a nice weekend, Pacey," Rich yelled from the doorway. "I'll need your opinions over this on Monday's meeting at 9 sharp."
"Yeah, great weekend," Pacey mumbled. He would never have time to spend some 'quality time' with Joey this weekend.
"What's up between you and Drue?" Jack asked, while they stood in line waiting to buy their tickets to the movies. "Since that night in the club, even I can feel some tension in the air."
"Nothing happened, we drank a little too much, and reminisced about New York," Jen answered, searching in her purse for her TicTacs. "There they are," she muttered to herself.
"This doesn't sound as nothing, Jen," Jack said, paying for their tickets. "How far went this reminiscing thing?"
"Not far, Jack," Jen rolled her eyes. "We talked a little and …"
"You realized that maybe, just a distant, distant hypothesis, you like him and in typical Jen Lindley's style, you are pushing him away."
"Those psychology classes are really paying off, Jack. Shame you're far from the truth."
"Jen, it's ok to have hidden feelings for him," Jack replied. "He's got a nice ass."
"Hah…that's what I call hidden feelings," Jen teased. "You and Drue would make a nice couple."
"You're doing it again, masking your situation with a poorly conceived joke."
"You're doing a nice job in English too, it seems," Jen poked out her tongue, walking down the theater aisles, trying to find the best seat available.
"Denial isn't only a big river in Egypt, you know?" he asked, sitting beside her.
Before she could reply, something caught her attention. First a glimpse of shining bright red hair, and then a laughter she could recognize everywhere. Drue. She frowned, trying to ignore that uncomfortable feeling setting up in the pit of her stomach.
Jack followed her stare and frowned too, He would need some help on his matchmaker plan. Maybe he could ring Joey, he was sure she would help.
Joey sat at the bar in Hell's Kitchen, turning the pages of On the Road aimlessly, Audrey's words still playing in the back of her mind. Eddie, one of her classmates and unfortunately one of her co-workers walked in behind her, heading to the bar, starting to stock it.
"Isn't the paper on that due on Monday?" he asked smugly.
"Shut up," Joey replied not bothering to lift her eyes from the pages.
"Oh, wow. Page 109... You'd better get cracking," Eddie took the book from her hands to look.
"Oh, my god. Will you please go away?" she groaned, rolling her eyes, getting her book back.
"Sorry," he apologized. "So...what do you think so far?"
"If I tell you, will you leave me alone?" He nodded. "I think it sucks."
"Huh," Eddie suppressed a chuckle.
"Oh, what, just because every quasi-bohemian hipster with pretensions of literary greatness worships at the altar of Kerouac, that means I should, too?"
"No, Joey, I just thought you could elaborate."
"Are you Hetson's evil twin or just the regular ass-kisser?" Eddie shrugged in response. "It's just boring, Eddie. And it meanders. And there's no story. It's just one long run-on sentence. It's all macho posturing and misogyny."
"Hmm," he replied, continuing to stock bottles behind the bar.
"Excuse me?" she finally closed her book.
"I didn't say anything," he defended himself.
"Yes, you did. You said hmm."
"Did I?" he wiggled his brows.
"Yes, you did. In a very loaded way, I might add."
"Well, it's nothing. I just...I'm learning about you."
"Just because I don't like a book means I'm deficient in some way?"
"No, no. I just thought that your opinion was interesting."
"Look, I don't need you to patronize me."
"Oh, my god, woman. Why are you so angry?" He came from behind the bar.
"I'm not angry!"
"Yes, you are." He sat beside her.
"No. I'm not angry. I'm bored, tired, but not angry."
"Okay, you're saying it."
"You know what? I need to get back to work, so can you please stop talking to me?"
The telephone ringed, interrupting them. Eddie ran to the phone, taking an order for a delivery across town.
"Hey, Joey, we can discuss more Kerouac as we deliver this order," he yelled, going to the kitchen. Joey rolled her eyes at the thought. Yep, that day was getting just peachy.
"Natasha, you need to get in there now, Todd needs to finish this shot," Dawson begged, his head peeking through her trailer door.
"If Todd wants me there, he calls me, because I'm not talking to you, Dustin," she pouted, ignoring him.
"He's going to fire me if I don't take you there, please, Nat," he insisted.
"Like I would care. Actually, that would make me happy, relieved even. I would kneel down and thank God everyday for the blessing of not seeing your face anytime soon."
"I thought you were agnostic."
"See what you did to me, I'm even talking to God."
Dawson walked away from her trailer and asked Todd to go talk with his diva starlet. Todd came back few minutes after that, a frown taking over his face.
"We need to talk, Leery." Todd lit a cigarette.
"Ok." Dawson slumped his shoulders, waiting for the blow.
"I've just come from Natasha's trailer," he started looking somewhat embarrassed. "Look, I don't know how else to say this. You screwed up, mate. She won't come out until you're gone. Which gives me no choice but to do something I really don't want to do, because you're the best assistant I've ever had and the only one on set I actually don't wanna fire. But for the sake of the film, it's exactly what I have to do."
"I understand, Todd," Dawson lied. Of course he didn't, why was this happening to him?
"Look, it's got me so upset, I'm smoking again."
"You shouldn't," Dawson chuckled sadly.
"Yeah, you're right,' Todd said, before taking a big puff of the cigarette. " We've got a bit of time before the next set-up. Why don't you say your good-byes, gather your things? And I want you to keep in touch. Maybe on my next film…"
"Yeah, yeah, will do that."
"I'm gonna miss you, mate," Todd patted his back, before walking away. Dawson just stood there, looking around the set, letting reality kick in.
He was alone in Boston, jobless and without friends.
One night and he ruined all…for nothing.
"Eddie, tell me we're not delivering at a movie set," Joey watched the place he parked through the truck window.
"Why not? It's a movie set." He opened the door, climbing off the car. "Not good enough for you?"
Ignoring him, she left the car, silently helping him to unload the food and drinks they bought. She noticed Dawson approaching carrying a check and sighed. They really needed to stop meeting like that.
"Joey," he said, his jaw tightening as if he wasn't happy about seeing her and Joey wondered what he was blaming her for now.
"Thanks, Dawson," she grabbed the check, stuffing it in her pocket.
"I guess you'll be happy to know I'm going back to LA. It seems I don't work here anymore."
"Sorry about that, Dawson," she glanced at Eddie who was watching the exchange curiously.
"Like you even cared," he spat.
"Look, Dawson, you were my friend for the better parts of my life, but sometimes you don't get a clue about how I feel, so please don't start trying now."
"It would help if you talked to me."
"Talk to you about what? To listen to your endless ramblings about how your life sucks, how people don't understand you, how wrong I am for not, God help us, being in love with you. I'm tired of that, Dawson."
"What happened to you, what happened to us, Joey?"
"Life, Dawson, growing up. Because I'm trying to face life as an adult while you're still stuck in your bedroom as a whiny fifteen-year-old. And as much as I love reminiscing the past, I don't wanna be like that forever."
"It looks like no matter how much I try, I'll never live it up to you."
"You're not really trying, Dawson, that's the problem." She climbed in the truck under Eddie's questioning gaze. "It was good seeing you."
"Don't ask, Eddie, it's better if you don't." Joey said, buckling her seatbelt.
"Not asking, but that guy sounded like a prick to me." Eddie shrugged, causing her to burst into laughter. "What?"
"You really nailed him with one word. Drive us back to work, Doling."
"As you wish, Miss Potter," he replied, starting the engine. "So, what about your analysis on Kerouac?"
"Shut up and drive, Eddie."
Pacey climbed the stairs to his apartment, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He knew tired, but this, was pure exhaustion. He closed the door behind him, loosening his tie, after dropping his papers on the coffee table and throwing his jacket aimlessly on the couch. He sat, staring helpless to the large pile of paper in front of him, unsure where to start. Sighing he decided to take them to his bedroom, take a shower and then call Joey before he got started. Better, he would go to Hell's Kitchen and see her; he was actually at the point to crave to be around her.
He took a quick shower, feeling all his muscles protest due the lack of exercise after being on a chair all day. He put on his boxers, glancing at the nightstand clock. Joey wouldn't be off her shift before two hours, he could rest a little, and read a little before going there. He sat on the bed with the top file in his hands. Just an hour.
Joey knocked at Pacey's door, starting to get mad. How could he ignore her all day? He hadn't answered her calls, she had a shitty day and all she needed was talk to him, and where was he? He didn't even show up at the restaurant when he knew she would be working. All he could focus now was that damn job. She was proud of him, she was happy for him, but she was also jealous that the job seemed more important to him than she was.
A boxer-clad Drue opened the door, visibly annoyed.
"What's the rush, Potter? Who's dying?"
"Your friend, he will be dead when I get my hands on him," she replied, entering the room. "Where is he?"
"Do I look like Pacey's guardian?" He closed the door. "I heard some music from his room, so I guess he must be there."
"Drue, darling, who's there?" a feminine voice asked from upstairs.
"Did I interrupt something, Drue?" Joey teased.
"No, Einstein, what do you think?" Drue shot back. "I'm coming, baby." He yelled. "You better go get that boyfriend of yours, and please, could you be not so loud today, Potter?" he hissed.
"Don't worry, wouldn't like to mess with your concentration over there," she winked, climbing the stairs.
She heard the music coming from Pacey's room, and knocked, with no answer. No surprise there, Pink Floyd turned him deaf to the world. She opened the door, ready to bitch him out, when she saw he was fast asleep on his bed, clutching some papers in his hand, dressed only in boxers. Joey closed the door behind her, smiling. Even sleeping he could make her less cranky and pissed off. She carefully took the papers from his hands, and he grunted something unintelligible in his sleep.
She took off her clothes, putting on one of his old t-shirts, turning off the stereo and the lights, lying beside him. Even if she couldn't talk to him now, she could at least enjoy his warmth. She stayed awake for a while, just watching him sleep, until she finally dozed off.
Pacey woke up in the middle of the night, feeling something heavy on him. Without even opening his eyes, he recognized her scent, her touch. Joey's head was resting against his shoulder, one arm thrown over his stomach and their legs were intertwined. How that had happened, he wasn't sure, but he was grateful to have her here, right now. Like magic, she groggily opened her eyes, when he touched her hair softly, to certify she was real and not some good dream he was having.
"I was really mad at you today, you know?" she whispered, sleepily.
"Why was that?" he chuckled.
"I wanted to talk to you so badly, and you didn't answer the phone and my day was pretty bad, but you know? It doesn't matter anymore," she answered, her mouth against his shoulder.
"Wanna talk about it now?" he caressed her cheek, as her eyelids fluttered closed again.
"Just hold me, please?" her voice almost disappearing.
He didn't reply, just did what she asked him, his mind trying to figure out what she meant about being mad at him. And with his mind on that, he watched her sleeping in his arms, his heart heavy with worry until he drifted back to sleep.
"That place was so nice, Pace. They had individual towels in the bathroom." Joey told him dreamily, while they walked back to her dorm... They had gone out for dinner after a not so easy conversation about how neglected she was feeling. Pacey said she was acting like a child, there was some yelling involved, doors banging and loud make up sex. And a promise from both of them to save more time for each other.
"Really? Laid out in baskets and everything?" He kissed her hand.
"Mm-hmm," she nodded, snuggling closer against him.
"Well, if that's not the hallmark of a classy joint, I don't know what is," he chuckled, circling her waist with his arm to bring her even closer, if that was possible.
"Well, you do definitely know how to treat a lady."
"Well, I gotta spend my money on something," he stated and Joey stopped walking and furrowed her brows. "Oh, that came out totally wrong. Because you are not- n-not something that, I just spend money on. It's not like a possession—but I would. I would, and I do," he explained, somewhat worried. One fight per day was too much for him.
"Well, why do you think I'm with you?" Joey leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose. "And if that damn job of yours keeps you so busy, at least I should enjoy some of the privileges of having a sort of loaded boyfriend."
"Jo, I thought we already talked about it, you know I need to work, the same way you need to study," he told her serious.
"Pace, I'm only joking now. I know I acted like a bitch earlier, and I already said I'm sorry, k?"
"Right, Jo, just don't throw shoes at my head anymore, please," he kissed her forehead. "And here we are," Pacey said, as they reached her room's door.
"Want come in for a while?" she asked both arms around his waist.
"I think I'm a bit tired," he teased, pressing her against the door.
"Pacey Witter, refusing a chance to be alone with his girlfriend and a promise of a better dessert they just had? Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?"
"Maybe I'm not so tired anymore," his mouth closed on hers, suddenly hungry for the taste of her. Joey fumbled with her keys, trying to open the door without breaking the contact, flipping the lights on and dragging him inside with her. They froze at the sight before them. Audrey was lying on the floor, passed out. Joey rushed to her side, kneeling beside her.
"Audrey? Audrey, please, wake up!" Joey shook her. No answer, no reaction. She lifted her eyes to Pacey.
"I've got it, Jo," he replied to her unsaid question, his cell phone already in his ear. "Hello, sir, we've got an emergency here."
Joey just stayed there, on the floor, beside her friend, the only sign of life still present on her body a weak pulse. This wasn't happening; this couldn't be happening.
Read between the lines of what's
Fucked up and every things all right
Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive
And I walk alone
(…)I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of broken dreams
Boulevard of Broken Dreams – Green Day