"Fuck, marry, kill," Jake stated, over a full mouth of food. "Danny - Kim Kardashian, Snooki, or Paris Hilton. Go."
"Fuck Paris, marry Snooki, kill Kim." He didn't give it a lot of thought before answering.
"I'd marry Snooki." I shrugged.
"It's funny, they're probably all dead."
"Ish." Jeff added.
"Real knee slapper, bro. - cheer the fuck up, you've been down all night, what's wrong?"
"Aside from the obvious, a lot of stuff." George looked unsettled, and like he had something he wanted to tell people, but couldn't quite manage to spit out the words. "Anyone want hot chocolate?"
He got up, and I followed him in. Everyone else stayed in the rain. It made me wonder how being damp and inhaling the scent of death didn't bother them that much. It bothered me. I hated being outside at night, I only ever went out because I was afraid something would happen and everyone would be outside except for me, though in reality, just sitting out there makes my stomach spin.
Whatever, though.
I walked in, ready to prepare hot drinks for everyone, and to make Jordon and Dylan's 'Irish - put Bailey's in it. A lot of Bailey's."
"Who puts alcohol in hot chocolate..." I muttered to myself, spiking their drinks.
"Don't knock it 'til you try it." George smirked at me, and told me to make his with Scotch.
My mom always got Scotch for Christmas from all her coworkers. I remember, because she'd bring it home, and my dad would drink it. Mom never drank. Dad never didn't drink.
Christmas.
Christmas was so soon, I could almost taste it. In another nine days, it'd be December 25th. Nine more days. I hated to think that I mightn't be alive in another nine days, or even worse, someone else mightn't be alive in another nine days. I hated this uncertainty. I wanted a near-guarantee that my friends and I would be alive and well for a long time to come. But the odds were against us, you know. We're a dying breed. Well... a dying, then reanimating breed. Hopefully we can keep avoiding the reanimating part. It still scares me half out my mind to think of Jesse sometimes, and what he would've become.
It still makes me sad to think of Kendrew.
I hadn't taken his chain off since the day we went to his house, and I cried harder than ever before. That folded up letter is a promise to myself, a promise to him, that I need to fight harder than ever. I know he'd want me to. I have it tucked to the bottom of my personal backpack, along with the picture of him, Mari and I at a show. Those were the good times.
And I miss that on nights like these, where I'm making hot drinks for a bunch of people I do love, I love more than anything in the world, but that will never truly be home.
I flopped on the couch and waited for the water to boil. George walked outside, and Jordon walked in.
"I've been thinking." he cut me off, right in the middle of my 'hello'. "And we need to talk."
Oh shit. How many good experiences come out of the phrase, "we need to talk"?
I sat myself up against the arm of the sofa, and Jordon wouldn't look me in the eyes.
"Is something wrong?" My heart near stopped beating.
"Uh... it was great a couple nights ago and stuff, but I think we'd be better off as friends. I mean, I wasn't thinking straight, you probably weren't thinking straight, I said some stupid things, I did some stupid thi-"
"What the fuck?"
"I just don't want to be serious, that's all."
Don't cry, Brooke. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't you dare fucking cry. Once you let your guard down, it's all over.
"But... you... you told me you love me..." I murmured softly. "I thought you meant that."
"I say a lot of stuff. And I do love you. I love you a lot. Just not like you want me to."
I was stunned. Speechless.
"...did I do something wrong?" I asked. "I'm really sorry, it was my first time, and I'm sorry if I fucked up or something, because I love you so much and I didn't want to, and I was just so nervous, and you make me so nervous... why does everything go wrong?" I left him there as I rushed upstairs.
"Brooke, come here, I'm not done yet..." I heard him say down the stairs as I shut my door.
Tears stung at the corners of the eyes, and I couldn't believe he'd done that. I trusted him; I really did. I looked at myself in the mirror, through blurry eyes, silently picking out every flaw I could find about myself. Trying to find the main factor as to why he didn't want me.
It's because you're fat, I thought. You're too fat for him. You're fucking worthless.
I stared at my reflection, then stretched. I could see bones begging to be set free of skin, yet I was still convinced that the only reason he wouldn't love me was because I wasn't skinny enough.
"Why aren't you something that someone could ever want?" I bit my lip, whispering in the most hushed tone under my breath.
As if anyone was listening.
As if anyone really gave a fuck.
Outside, I didn't know it, but Jordon was slamming the door outside and burying his head in his hands, telling everyone else what he just did.
"I just made a really fucking big mistake." he rubbed his eyes.
"Did you fuck up our hot chocolate, Jordon, I swear to God..." Jake started.
"Lay off. I just dumped Brooke."
The whole circle was quiet for a second, then everyone started talking at once. Nobody really saying anything especially significant, but just gossipping like a group of highschoolers.
"...Why?" Dylan asked, surprised tone. "I thought you guys were -"
"We're not anymore." Jordon sighed. "And I don't know why."
"What did you tell her?" George asked, sympathy in his voice.
"I told her it was getting too serious, and I love her, just not like she wants me to..." Jordon trailed off. "Why the fuck did I do that? That was the biggest fucking mistake, the biggest fucking lie ever."
Jay didn't say anything. He kept to himself and contributed my just repeating stuff other people said, though honestly, he couldn't be happier.
"I'm gonna turn in for the night. Don't wake me up unless it's important." Jay got up and went inside.
"Night bro." Danny yelled.
"Night! - feel better Charles!" Jay yelled back.
By this point, I was curled up in a ball under every sheet, every blanket, every layer of cloth I could find. I cried everything out. I couldn't even squeeze tears out anymore. At least that's what I thought, but the moment I'd heard that knock on my door, I was thrown into hysterics again. It wouldn't have mattered who it was, I was gonna be a mess, and that was just how things were going to go.
"Jordon, I don't want to talk." I snapped.
"It-it's not Jordon. Can I just come in for a minute? Please?" I heard Jay's muffled voice on the other side of the door.
"At your own risk, I guess." I said back.
The door creaked open, and I buried my head under the blankets. Yeah, because I totally want someone to see me like this. I'm a wreck. I felt his hand on my back, and I felt him climbing in bed.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Just shh. I don't think you should be alone right now."
I did as told. "So, he told you what happened?"
"Yeah. You alright?"
"Yeah Jay, I'm just fucking dandy, you know. I bury myself in bed and cry hysterically every night, it's no big deal. Not like I loved him or anything." I coldly replied.
"...Sorry."
"Not much you could've done about it."
I moved closer to him, and I felt him tense up a little bit.
All I could think of was, "I hate the way you say my name like it's something secret.", and how I'd read his personal musings without permission, and how I wonder if he felt half as guilty about reading my journal as I felt about reading his.
"What are you thinking, right now?" Jay asked.
"Just about a song I used to know."
"What song?"
"It was one by Mayday Parade. Used to love them a lot."
"Never heard of them."
"You'll be the reason I'll be uneven, covered in glass and lying on the floor. You'll be the brightest star in the sky, sing me a song and tell me who it's for." I whisper-sang. Priceless. I loved that song.
"That's not cheesy at all."
"Shut up, that band was one of my favorites."
We discussed music for awhile longer. I listened to him talk about The Misfits for a long, long time, and I eventually fell asleep, and I don't think he noticed for awhile. He probably didn't. At the end of things, it was moreso him talking and me trying not to cry.
I drifted off with Jay rubbing my back and my face buried in a pillow.
-Jay's POV-
She was asleep. Just like that. A thousand miles a milisecond to nothing in the blink of an eye, she was asleep. I rolled on my back, and I felt like the worst friend ever. I just calmed Brooke down, yes. I calmed here down immensely. - Jordon on the other hand, was a wreck from just breaking up with this girl, yet I'm laying in bed with her.
This is the chance I've been waiting for though, I thought. You always tell yourself how sorry you are that you never got a chance. This is your chance to prove to her that you're everything he wasn't.
But I can't, I thought. She's just some girl, right? Jordon's been your best friend since you were in high school.
She's not just some girl, you love her.
You're just horny.
I ran my hand over her side, and I could feel her bones protruding out. My hand came to rest over her forearm, the back of it, and I could feel those heartbreakers on her wrist right on my fingertips. She was beautiful. She really was. Through all the tears and scars and bruises, she was beautiful.
It made me think. How could someone so insanely perfect ever destroy themself like that?
I was on the edge, too. I mean, face it. I've been quiet. I've been getting frustrated with the simplest things. I didn't feel like I could trust anyone, thought I knew that I could. This isn't any way to live our goddamn life, and she knows it as well as I do.
I didn't know what to do.
I looked at the girl tucked under my arm. All I could see was a little bit of her hair from the moonlight cast upon her bedroom floor.
The moon was a consistancy, at least. Even though the world had become a shitstorm, we could always count on seeing the moon and the glittering stars every night, and that, at least, made her smile. It made me wish we'd gotten to know each other in a time period where we both weren't frustrated and exhausted all the time after all these long days and sleepless nights, a time period where we could maybe just go see a movie or get dinner or something.
And I wished I could guilt free, make her mine.
I sometimes climbed on the roof at night and wished on every star in the sky that maybe we'd end up together. I know that sounds cheesy. I'm a guy who used to be in a band that rapped about drugs, sluts and booze. I wasn't supposed to really fall in 'love', whatever that means.
I just hated how right it felt to be in her bed holding her.
I began singing the song she sang back when we were still in the skyscraper.
"I'm looking for the upsides to these panic attack nights..."