Thirteen: You've Got Everyone Convinced

You've got everyone convinced that you're alright,

No one else is quite as vulnerable.

So Beautiful, Dashboard Confessional

After The Third Visit

Jude woke up in a vaguely familiar living room. She'd been here before, but not for a long time. The large couch was far more comfortable then the floors she was used to waking up on.

"Sleeping beauty awakes," said a voice from behind her. She started to sit up and look around to see who it was, but the pounding headache she had made her change her mind. "Little hungover are we?" it asked her in a teasing manner.

"Shove it. Where am I."
"About that..." She finally placed the voice.

"Kyle?"

"Yeah, and here, take this," he said, placing a glass of water and painkillers on the coffee table. She did as she was told while she continued to take in her surroundings. She'd been here before, she was sure of it. But it had been decorated differently then.

"So I'm where exactly?" she questioned him again.

"Uh. Quincy's living room."

"Are you high?"

"No. But I have a feeling that you are. Or were."

"Whatever. I'm so out of here. The last thing I need is a Quincy encounter. And it was drunk, not high. Thus the hangover." She tried to stand up but the pounding headache had yet to disappear and she was forced back to the couch.

"He's not here, if that's what you're worried about," Kyle said as he took a seat next to her. She gave him a funny look.

"If he's not here, why are we?"

Kyle sighed, trying to decide if he should tell her the truth, or rather how much of it. Damn his inability to lie about the big stuff. "I live here. Quincy needed someone to watch the place when he's not around." There, that was good. It was the truth, he just left the 'and my dad kicked me out ages ago' part. Jude gave him another look, and he knew that if she was fully with it, she probably would have asked many more questions. Questions he did not want to answer. "And since he never came back last night, I'm assuming you kicked him out of the studio again. What happened. Come on, tell Doctor Kyle all about it."

"He was being an ass." Kyle rolled his eyes at this.

"Quincy has always been an ass. You're going to have to come up with better than that."

"I didn't appreciate how critical of the chorus he was being."

"That wasn't being critical. He said you could do better, and we both know it's the truth." Jude gave him a look that said she really didn't care about the semantics of the argument. "Jude, you know why Darius brought him in. You know your music has always been better with him around. Hell, this summer you didn't even touch your guitar!"

"So."

"He's trying. Hard. And sacrificing a lot to come do this. Are you really going to hate him forever? Hell, have you even considered that he had a valid reason to leave in the first place?"

Jude said nothing and avoided his gaze. A few minutes later she blurted out, "Wait, why did you say you're staying here?" Kyle gave her a look that showed his annoyance at her changing the subject.

"Because he needs someone to watch the place while he's gone," he said.

"He's worried someone's going to break in while he's out partying at night?" she said with a slight sneer.

"Jude, when was the last time you saw him in the tabloids. Oh, that's right, almost a year. Well, except for the pictures of Kwest decking him at the airport." Jude looked at him, waiting for further explanation. "Alright, since apparently you're too hungover to put it together, I'll lay it out for you all nice and neat. I live at his house, plus he's not in the tabloids, plus the picture of Kwest punching him in the airport. For fucks sake Jude, he doesn't live in Toronto anymore."

"But he's always at the studio," she protested.

"No Jude, you're never at the studio, or you're too damn messed up to notice it. He shows up once a month. And that's it. If you would actually talk to him instead of taking every substance you came across, you might have noticed."

"But he always knows what I've been working on. And he's heard all the SME tracks."

"We live in the digital age, Jude. Kwest and I send MP3s."

"Wait, you send them?"

"Yeah, again things you've been too coked up to notice. I'm working as Kwest's apprentice. Darius hired me as a sound engineer," he said harshly. How had she become that oblivious to everything? Moreover, how had everyone let her get this far gone. He felt as though it was his fault. He couldn't even count the number of times he'd retrieved her from some dingy location and done nothing beyond bringing her home. Jude needed help. Real help. Before she kills her career. But he knew if he brought it up to anyone else, the topic would quickly be changed. It seemed everyone was just as much in denial as Jude was about her problems.

"So where does he go?"

"I don't know. All I know is he shows up, works with you until you get pissed and tell him to leave, then drives straight to the airport and goes away until Darius tells him to come back." While he knew more details than that, it wasn't his story to tell.

"Oh," she said quietly.

"Yeah. So, are you ready to tell me the real reason why you asked him to leave today?"

"If you tell me why you live here." He paused for a moment at her request, unsure of what to do.

"Fine. My dad kicked me out at the start of the summer. Since you haven't been touring or playing shows, I've had no income and no way to pay rent. So Kwest hooked me up with this. Your turn." It still wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough. He knew he needed to get at the real reason why she had kicked Tommy out that afternoon, which he was almost positive was directly related to having Kwest show up with a passed out Jude. Kwest hadn't wanted to upset Sadie by bringing her home after he found her in Studio D at G Major so he'd brought her to him.

"He got too close," Jude stated after a long pause. Kyle looked at her long and hard, trying to decipher the hidden meaning of her vague statement. He replayed the moments before she told him to leave in his head again. Tommy had stood behind her and reached around her to manipulate her fingers into what he viewed as a better position. As soon as Tommy put his hand on hers, Jude had dropped the guitar as though it was on fire and order him to get out.

"I just wanted him to go back into the booth, I didn't mean for him to leave," she said softly.

"It's ok, he'll be back in a month or so."

"Why."

"Because producing you is his job. And he can't stay away. He needs you in his life, just like you need him."

"I don't need him. I don't need anyone."

"Jude, everyone needs someone. And everyone knows Tommy is your someone. So tell me, exactly how directly related is Tommy leaving and your passing out drunk in studio D." She said nothing so he continued. "I'm not going to give you the whole speech about how your ways of coping are going to get you killed, I know Sadie gives you that one on a daily basis. But she's right. Whatever demons you're trying to chase away, do it with your music not with drugs. That's why you need Tommy. There's no one better to help you get things out. He deserves a second chance, and so do you. You both need it."

Jude said nothing, but Kyle could tell she was giving some type of thought to what he'd said. All he could do now was wait and see what happened next month. And try to keep Jude out of trouble until them.

The Fourth Visit

Tommy leaned against the alley wall and let out a loud sigh. Something had changed with Jude since his last trip. If today was any indication, they seemed to slowly be putting things back together. They weren't friendly or anything, but he'd been there five days this time. Five whole days of working with her. Of being close to her – but never touching her. He'd learned his lesson last time. And she hadn't even screamed at him to leave. Although she had screamed at him on more than one occasion. He wanted to be a part of her life again, and he was going to take it as slow as she needed.

He still couldn't figure out why Darius was putting up with her. Knowing Darius it had to do with money, he had her doing all sorts of publicity crap which profited Darius. But it was for G Major or Instant Star, even for SME. Never for her, and she never sang in public. And according to Kwest, the only time she did sing was when he was there.

Four months, and they'd only finished two songs. It didn't take long for him to figure out that Jude did almost no work when he was gone. Kwest had been emailing him a few tracks she'd laid down with SME – as second guitar. Never once did she sing on them. But they were the essentially the 'Fuck You Tom Quincy' songs he'd been expecting on her last album. Except they were coming from Spied. SME's second album seemed to be shaping up as the story of a guy watching the girl he loved get hurt by someone else. The song currently cued up on his MP3 player was a strong candidate for the first single.

The song had got him thinking. Something about Jude and Spied didn't add up. It was too one way. Yeah, Spied seemed to worship Jude, but so did Wally and Kyle. The only time they ever acted like a couple was when reporters were around, and even then, it was distant. To him, they seemed more like siblings than lovers. No, they could never be lovers, not in his eyes. He was the only one who should fulfill that role in Jude's life. But why all the secrets?

There was something going down at G Major. Something major. Something about Jude. And they were keeping it from him. He made a mental note to have a chat with D about needing to know everything that was going on with his girl when he wasn't there. Fuck. His girl. She wasn't his girl anymore.

No. But she would be one day.

God he needed a cigarette right now. He was about to pull one out before remembering that someone might come out to the alley. Twenty-five and he was still sneaking around about it. Reaching instead for the bag of Twizzlers he had shoved in his pocket earlier, Tommy heard the door to the alley open.

"Those'll kill you you know." Oh God, it was Jude. She was talking to him. Willingly. About something that wasn't music related.

He took off his headphones before replying, "What, licorice?"

"No. The cigarette you came out here to smoke." How the hell did she know about that.

"I don't smoke, Jude. You know that." Yeah, deny it all Quincy, now that's a good plan, he thought to himself. Jude rolled her eyes at him and took a few steps towards him. She stopped just arms length away from him. He wanted to touch her so badly, to pull her close and never let her go. No, that was a bad idea, put your hands behind your back Quincy and you might get out alive. "What are you doing out here any way?"

"Same thing as you. Frustrated with the bridge, needed some air." She suddenly stepped so close that they were almost touching. He inhaled sharply, too mesmerized to realize what she was doing before it was too late. She'd reached into his jacket pocket and snatched out the crumpled pack of cigarettes. Shit. Now what did he do.

"You know, I've got a lighter in my jeans, if you wanna grab that too," he joked, hoping his attempt alleviate the thick tension that ran between them wouldn't set her off again.

"Thanks, but I got my own." She pulled out a familiar looking lighter. His lighter. His silver, engraved, expensive as hell lighter. The one he thought he'd lost the night they recorded White Lines.

"That's mine."

"Huh. So that's why Quincy is engraved on it. I'd been wondering about that," she smirked at him. Flipping it open, she used the flame to light one of his cigarettes.

Smoking. Jude Harrison, champion of the Lung Cancer Society was smoking. And she was using his cigarettes, his lighter to do it! She took a long drag of it before pulling out a second one, lighting it and extending it to him. What the hell was she doing. She was talking with him, trying to interact but something about her actions and words seemed strange.

"Take it. You're obnoxious to deal with when you need a nicotine fix," she said knowingly. She was right. They both knew it. Wait. Where had his lighter gone.

"You going to give my lighter back?" he asked.

"What lighter," she replied innocently. God, he missed this. Them, talking. Interacting. Even if i was completely screwed up. Who knows how long it would last, or when it would happen again, or why it was happening now, he was going to enjoy every second of it. Was he seriously smoking in the back alley with Jude? Yes. Yes he was. And it was fucking awesome.

"Fine, keep it. Where did you find it anyway, I thought I lost it that night we recorded White Lines," he finally asked her.

"Find it? Oh, in your jacket pocket when I was stealing a cigarette while you were delivering the master to D that night." His jaw dropped.

"So it was you that was stealing my cigarettes. I figured it was Kwest, or maybe one of SME. Hell I'd even suspect Sadie before you, because god knows she had a tendency to go through my pockets looking for girls numbers. But never would I have guessed it was you." She just shrugged her shoulders at him.

"For how long."

"Since I turned 16." You little rebel, he thought to himself.

"When did you figure it out... how?" He'd been so careful to hide it, especially after she told him how much she hated smokers.

"Remember when we first met? You picked me up from school in the Viper and took me to the pier?" He just nodded dumbly, that trip had landed them in the tabloids and him on Georgia's hit list. "Well it was then."

"So... two days after we met, you knew I smoked and used that knowledge to pull guilt trips on me about how much you hated smokers? I'd quit for months at a time when you did that!" He wanted to be mad at her, but he couldn't. It was too petty, and they were finally talking. "What gave me away?"

"Two things. One, when you don't want someone to know you smoke, you don't leave empty packs on the floor of your precious Viper."

"It could have been someone elses!" he protested lamely. She rolled her eyes.

"Right. Like you let people leave trash in your car. You barely even let people ride in your car. Oh, and the second way I knew? When you leaned over to show me some cords – you know, the picture seen 'round Canada – I could smell it on you." Damn. She had him.

"So you said you've been doing it since you were 16, why'd you start." He had his suspicions, and he wasn't sure if he wanted them confirmed or not.

"You gave me your jacket at my party, ripped my heart out – or what was left of it after Hurricane Shay – you left a pack in there, I figured my life couldn't suck anymore, so I might as well give it a try. And it stuck," she shrugged and tossed the butt of her cigarette to the ground.

"Look, Jude, I don't want to sound like a hypocrite here, but smoking, it's not good for your voice. Really, don't do it."

"Your concern is duly noted, but unnecessary. I don't think a cigarette every few months is going to kill my singing career. But you're one to talk. You've gone through two packs this trip alone, you're going to kill your voice. And we both know you still want that solo album despite what you tell D." She had him there, he was desperate for that solo album. The fact that he turned out to be rather prolific when drunk seemed to be working in his favor seeing as material for an album was quickly piling up. Wait, was she saying she was worried about him? Hold on, something wasn't adding up still.

"Did you say you only smoke every month or so?" She nodded. "Then who the fuck has been stealing my cigarettes all these years! I wasn't talking one a month! I was talking a couple a day!"

"Spied," she admitted. "Smokes like a chimney."

"How do you know?"

"Who do you think I've been stealing them from while you've been gone?" She didn't need to add that she knew Spied smoked like a chimney because he had a tendency to smoke when they got high.

He was about to take a chance and ask her to dinner when his phone rang. It was Amanda. She had come for a visit when he was summoned by Darius and offered to stay with Whit while he was gone. Shit. He needed to take this, what if something happened to Whit...

"Look, Jude..."

"Save it, I'm gone." She paused at the door long enough to hear him answer the call.

"Amanda, stop crying. What's wrong. Alright. It's ok, it'll all be ok, no, no I'm not busy here. I'll get the first flight out..."

Nice Quincy, good to know that your flavor of the month is more important than working, Jude thought as she slammed the door behind her. Where was Spied. Studio B... C? No, B. She had to get out of there fast. And kick Kyle's ass for making her almost believe in Quincy again.

Opening the door to studio B she saw SME was laying down a track. It was sounding good, but she needed to get out of there. And fast. Ignoring Kwest's protests, she hit the intercom,

"Spied." That was all she had to say. He looked up at her and saw the tears falling down her face. Damn Quincy, what did he do this time. Something told Spied that he was going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

"Spied! You're in the middle of a recording session!" Kwest argued.

"Sorry dudes, gotta blaze." He took off with Jude before anyone could stop them.

No sooner had they left, Tommy came flying through the door with a look of panic on his face, "Kwest... I..." Kwest's fist collided with Tommy's jaw. Tommy stumbled back a few steps. "What the hell was that for!"

"Whatever you did to Jude."

"I didn't do anything to Jude. We were actually having a conversation..."

"Then why did she just drag Spied out of a recording session and take off crying?" Kwest interrupted.

"I didn't do anything Kwest. I swear. We were talking, it was great, then I got a call from Amanda... oh... shit," he said as he realized the door to the alley had slammed shut after he'd told Amanda he'd be on the first flight back.

"Oh shit is not a good thing to be saying right now, Quincy," Kwest growled.

"Look, Amanda called, Jimmy's wife's sister remember? She's staying with Whit since she was there when D called me up here. Anyway, Whit fell out of a tree, she broke her arm again, and Whit won't calm down about having to go to the hospital, and Amanda is a little freaked out... and I think Jude overheard part of my conversation with Amanda. And what the hell did you punch me for!"

"Jude in tears? Come on T, we all know you're the only one who could be responsible for that. And I told you, you make her cry, you pay the price. And don't be such a girl about it."

"Yeah. I remember the airport. I think Portia has multiple pictures of it framed in her office. But look, I have to go. You know why."

"I'm not cleaning up your mess. You need to come clean with Jude. She needs to know that Amanda is your sister-in-law and that you have custody of Whit and that that is why you aren't here most of the month. You know Jude, she probably thinks that you are with Amanda and picked her over Jude's album. And you know how Jude feels about her music."

"I know, I'm going to tell her. I promise. Tell D I had to go." Tommy was already in the hall when he turned back to Kwest, "keep an eye on my girl, I'm worried about her." He was halfway to the airport before he realized what he'd said. But it was true. No matter what happened, he always saw Jude as his girl. His.

AN: Sorry for the long wait! I'm in the middle of the week before exams, plus dealing with a lot of health issues, so sadly I haven't been able to write as much as I'd like. I promised you more Jommy interaction and there will be plenty more in the next chapter, which was originally part of this chapter, but I couldn't get it right, so I decided to put up the part I did have instead of making you wait.