Jess was digging through his duffel when Luke entered. Shaking the bag upside down, he dived through the items, throwing them to the side and muttering to himself as his clothes landed around him.
"Uh, Jess?"
He barely reacted. He grunted loudly at Luke's entrance, but continued to sort through his book for the second time since Luke had seen him.
"Everything alright?"
"Have you seen my notebook?" Jess' voice was muffled, now searching under the bed for the aforementioned item.
"Your red one?"
"Yeah, that's it."
Luke threw the paper bag on the dining table – full of sandwiches for the boy's lunch, and proceeded to start helping in Jess' scrambling search.
The apartment was a mess. Jess' books laying on every surface, or they, themselves, acting as a surface for a broken alarm clock and a stack of plates. Luke's knick-knacks being neglected, placed on the floor in replacement of other more considered 'important' items. A mix of both of their clothes were littering the floor and the cleaning products (bleach) were still left out from Luke's desperate cleaning session of Jess' unfortunate coined 'incident'.
"I'm assuming you haven't seen it then." Jess said, his voice pitched in unbridled and unfortunately obvious panic.
"No. Jess, I'm sorry. The last I remember was you writing in it."
Jess let out an uncharacteristic whimper as he fell back onto his bed and threw his arms over his face.
Luke froze – unsure how to deal with the boy's reaction. Jess breathed. He followed the steps that the therapist had given him – breathing in deeply, counting to ten, then letting out the breath. He followed this until he could feel his heart settle and his head return to it's normal chaos, rather than the constant banging of his frantic pulse.
"I can't remember the last time I used it." Jess admitted. "I'm struggling to remember a lot of little things recently actually."
"Should we be concerned about that?"
"No more than everything else." He answered honestly, "Jane – uh, I mean, the shrink. She said that memory loss is common with depr- with what I have."
"Right."
Luke watched as Jess rubbed his hand over his eyes, pushing into the sockets in what seemed like a painful force, his fingers twitching to reach out toward the boy, but also knowing that he should give him space. It was a difficult balance that he hadn't yet managed to perfect.
Jess slowly sat up. He back was hunched in an unnatural way – his head bent, and looking at his fingers like they were foreign to him. Luke quickly got control of his own second-guessing, and sat down next to the boy, rubbing his hand over his back in what he hoped was a reassuring, fatherly, gesture. He tried not to cringe as he felt the knobs of Jess' spine poking through his shirt – he still had a lot longer to go until he was back to a healthy weight.
"I think I'm going to speak to Liz."
Luke outrightly let his emotions show on his face. His mouth pulling back over his teeth in an obvious cringe. "You don't have to."
"I know." Jess reassured, "But I should, if only to explain this all to her."
"Well," Luke said slowly, tapping Jess one last time on the shoulder and standing up, collecting the clothes on the floor to throw into the wash and make the apartment more presentable. "Whatever you want, Jess."
Jess pulled himself fully onto the bed as Luke cleaned around him. He groaned at his own thoughts before he jumped to the side and slipped a book from it's perch on the bedside table and started reading as though he were doing so in a rebellious act. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was sat stiffly up on his bed, prepared to ignore the world until absolutely necessary.
Luke, however, had been feeling nervous and twitchy since the unspoken breakdown, and found the silence formidable. "Are you working with Andrew today?"
Jess had been patient in humouring him. "Yeah." He answered, flicking the page over and letting his eyes skim over the words without actually absorbing the story, "I missed a shift over the past few days."
Jess watched as Luke's shoulders tensed from his cleaning, his shirt pulling against his back – the casual mention of Jess' dip throwing the man off.
"Right. Yeah. Of course you did with the – you know – bed."
Jess scoffed. He pushed the book away from him, watching it bounce against the mattress, and huffed as he stood, throwing himself out of the bed. He let his bare feet slap against the wood and made his way to the bathroom.
As he passed Luke, he slapped him on the back – knocking a few socks from the man's weak grip. "Nice try, Luke." Jess said, "But that was still incredibly awkward."
The bathroom door shut behind him before Luke could fumble with a response.
Jess went down with Luke to the diner, picking up toast before his shift, and watched as Luke immediately began to get overwhelmed by the number of people eating there, and the frequent summoning of his name. He leant back against the counter and watched the chaos ensue.
When Taylor entered, Jess pulled a chair around behind the counter and sat back to watch the show.
"Luke?" Taylor's voice was loud and sure of himself – and Luke's eyebrow twitched at the first sign of him.
Taylor continued to repeat himself until eventually Luke turned on him with a very tight and punctuated, "What?!"
"You asked me to inform you the next time we held a meeting for the business community, and speaking for the Stars Hollow Business Association, we would like to extend the invitation to you in order to discuss important matters affecting the current profitability of the community."
"Say that again, Taylor. But simpler – as you can see, I'm busy and not listening."
Taylor huffed, throwing his hands up in the air and looking around at the customers as though he were put out for the few extra seconds of speaking.
"There will be a town meeting tonight regarding the business community."
"Great – why?"
"Reasons which I cannot divulge in front of the general public."
"Taylor – half of the people here are business owners in this community."
"Half is not all, is it now Luke? See you at the town hall from 6pm onwards."
"I'm still open at six, Taylor."
"Well, then you'll have to close like the rest of the business owners. See you then." Taylor left with a cheery wave and a sickeningly large grin.
Luke's eye began to twitch and Jess made the accurate decision to leave before he was on the receiving end of his uncle's frustration.
"Morning Jess," Andrew called from the back room. He quickly made his way to the entrance to greet the boy – his grin warm and welcoming. He slipped a pile of books from his hands onto the desk and began sorting through them.
Jess smiled, nodded, but didn't reply. He slipped off his jacket and hunt it up behind the counter.
"Back to fighting form?"
Jess cringed. "Yeah, sorry about that Andrew – it's been difficult."
Andrew waved off his apology, "No, no." He reassured, "Although, you might have customers seeking you out later."
Jess halted in his escape to the back room, "Uh, What? Why?"
Andrew laughed at his fumbling confusion, "People want your opinion, Jess. It seems my recommendations are no longer up to par."
"They want my opinion?"
"Of Course!" He replied joyfully, "You know what you're on about, Jess. People here are well aware of that."
Jess wasn't sure what to do with the compliment. His eyes crinkled, his brows furrowed, his head nodded, and he walked off to the back room to the sound of Andrew laughing gleefully behind him.
The shift was mainly how Andrew predicted. A lot of people were actively seeking Jess out as he attempted to quietly restock and rearrange the current shelves to selfishly favour his personal preferences. And his recommendations were an eclectic mix of genres and time-periods that he was sure surprised the residents of Stars Hollow.
"There's Bernard Cornwell everywhere – who is he and if he worth the fuss?" Brian Fuller – looking to expand his questionably nerdy repertoire had asked with a nervous disposition. Jess had learned he was one of the people living with Lane and almost laughed at the poor girl's fortune. Brian had approached Jess after much coaxing from Andrew, expecting the once trouble maker to laugh him out of the store – but he was, instead, met with an immediate answer and an enthusiastic explanation.
"He's historical fiction." Jess replied. "Very much deserving – have you read any historical stuff before?"
"Only in textbooks for school – and anything related to fantastical lore."
"Right," Jess said slowly, "If you're serious about giving him a go then I recommend reading 'The Winter King'. First in a trilogy and it's about King Arthur – so there's some fantastical elements with Merlin."
Brian had perked up at the mention of Merlin, and Jess instantly considered that a success.
Mr Lister came into the store, avoiding everyone else's eye and actively started an argument about poets trying their hand at literature.
"Everything they write is evidently lyrical – it's hard to focus it into the real world." He grumbled, fingering one Thomas Hardy's book of poems that Jess had manipulated to the second shelf down (note: the most commonly searched shelf).
"Bukowski." Jess retorted.
"What? A drunk whose poetry was gruff and depressing."
Jess withheld the bitter laugh he was tempted to spit in the man's' face, and instead marched to where he had recently placed the novel and pulled out 'Ham on Rye' and slapped it into the older man's hand. "Yes this is gruff." He admitted. "But it's also a hilariously realistic coming-of-age that is painfully realistic. Read this and tell me that poets cannot write fiction."
"What is wrong with all of these women?" A group of young women- probably around Jess' age, if not slightly older, were gathered around the young adult books and complaining loudly about 'Twilight' and the main character of Bella Swan. "This one!" She pointed violently at the second in the collection, "Her boyfriend breaks up with her so she sinks into depression and goes crazy? Not that great of a role model."
Jess didn't even say anything to the girls. He simply walked over with two books in hand. One; The Woman Who Walked Into Doors by Roddy Doyle, and Two: Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Both with strong women, one with a romance story. He slapped them in the opinionated girl's hands and walked away just as quickly.
He did, however, watch her read the blurb of each and then checkout with both, and an additional book by the second author.
He was, overall, having a good day. He felt like he was actually helping the people in the shop and couldn't help but smiling as he continued on with his work, despite knowing that the conversation with Liz was yet to come.
He was rearranging some of the books on the shelf (he was actually placing the greater literary genius of the novels to the forefront of the shop, and the tat further from prying eyes) when he spotted them. Rory and Dean, hand in hand – her chatting a mile a minute while he watched her with adoring and sickening eyes, far from any opinion of his own to be able to actually contribute to the conversation. Of course, that was just what he was assuming. Jess' gaze followed them for a few moments before he ducked behind one of the shelves and continued to look busy.
"Should they really be flaunting it already?"
The gruff, smoker's voice of Babette travelled through the shop despite her attempt at a whisper. Peaking over the shelf proved to Jess that her attention was also focused on the couple – along with a lot of people around the shop.
"Why shouldn't they?" A neighbour contributed, "Everyone already know what happened – it's not like they have any secrets to keep."
"It's a bit insensitive, don't you think?" Someone else piped up in a conspiratous (nee. failing) whisper, "I mean, has the divorce even gone through yet?"
Oh.
"No!" Babette responded gleefully, "They're still parading around in 'sin' – isn't it glorious?"
Oh, Rory.
"Poor Lindsay. She had no idea."
Jesus Christ.
"Hey, Jess. I was wondering if you could help me with a recommendation?"
The gossipers of the shop seemed to realised their surroundings all at once. Jess suddenly found four pairs of eyes looking at him, all guilty, all regretful.
Jess cleared his throat, turned to Jackson, and nodded, guiding him down to the back of the store and away from the pitiful stares. "Sure, Jackson. What do you need today?"
Jess felt as though someone should have warned him about that one.
The rest of his shift passed with a fluttering, vibrating, energy that seemed to grow. He was angry. He was angry and, god, he was disappointed – he hated that. He felt gross thinking that he was disappointed like some kind of overbearing mother.
Oh, jeez. He was disappointed in her like Lorelai was. That was concerning.
Andrew had to close the shop early due to Taylor's sudden and urgent town meeting, and Jess was sent home to the dark diner – unlocked so that Jess could easily enter without having to reach and grapple for the key over the frame. He was looking forward to falling onto his bed after being on his feet all day – but of course he should have learnt that he never seemed to get what he wanted in this lifetime.
Liz was waiting for him when he got home. With everyone at the town hall for the impromptu meeting, he supposed it made sense for them to have this conversation with no eavesdroppers.
"So you're finally ready to talk to me?"
Jess had barely opened the door when she spoke. He froze, ready to turn around and just leave, but he knew he had to do this instead. He rested his forehead against the glass of the apartment door and took a few deep breaths against the cool surface before pushing the door open the rest of the way.
"Liz." he greeted with a nod, moving past her to grab a glass of water – not bothering to ask if she wanted anything. He gulped one glass down quickly before filling it up again and settling himself down next to her. He waited for her to speak first – knowing that it would only be a matter of moments.
"So," she started, and Jess curled his hands around the glass and looked up at her, "you didn't think to mention during our weekly phone calls that you were considering killing yourself?"
Jess shut his eyes and breathed in through his nose, his grip tightening on the glass. "I didn't know, myself, Liz. Its a bit more complicated than just deciding."
"You were fine at my wedding."
"I really wasn't."
Liz huffed, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face.
"So explain it to me, Jess. Explain to me why you did it." She nodded her head towards the whitening scars on his wrist.
Jess let his finger tips ghost over where he'd be marked for life, and decided on the right way to explain it to her.
"I was tired." he said eventually, "I am tired."
"Tired of what? Life?"
"No, no. Just tired of feeling like this."
She obviously didn't know what to say to that, and Jess wasn't up for helping her. She seemed to appraise him, looking him up and down as though she were searching for the darkness outwardly that seemed to fill his mind.
"Is this my fault?" She asked slowly, her voice casual and sounding unconcerned despite the severity of the question, "Should I have not sent you here?"
"No, Liz." Jess venomously argued, "No. Being here – in Stars Hollow, jeez, this has probably been the best thing to happen to me in a long time." He admitted. It felt weird saying it out loud. Thinking back to his time at the school – judging the small-time teenagers for their flippant problems. His time at the diner, actively trying not to work. Pulling those stupid pranks just to make a pretty girl smile. God, it was frustrating – but he didn't feel like a nobody in Stars Hollow. He didn't feel invisible like he did in New York. "I feel like this was a long time coming."
"This is serious, isn't it?" She asked eventually.
"Yeah, Liz. It's the real deal."
She reached across the table to place her hand over his clenched fists. "I don't know what I'd be without you, Jess." She said. "I'm your mom. You gave me that identity."
"Liz – I'm not... I know that. But I'm not doing this to spite anyone – despite popular belief."
She nodded, "I get it." She said, "I've had thoughts like that. I've had that moment of – jeez, of hopelessness."
He wasn't all that surprised. She had a hard life, and her vein and all encompassing personality – good emotions and bad, meant that Jess had probably, unfortunately, adopted this helplessness from her. Rather than accuse, he instead asked, "How did you get through it?"
"I had you." She said simply.
He reacted to that, his head shooting up and looking her in the eye.
"I've been close – after a particularly bad time. And you know we've had a few." She rubbed her hand up his hand and over his wrist, her fingers moving over the bumps of his attempts – scarred out of life like his intent. "But I knew I had a responsibility – and I knew you would never forgive me. I knew that Luke would never forgive me."
God, there were days that he hated her – hated what she had done to him, how she never considered him in her romantic endeavours. Never allowed him to have any semblance of a childhood. And then there were moments where she'd prove that she had a motherly instinct that she barely ever let see the light.
"I need to go." He shot up, the chair behind him clattering to the ground and making Liz jump from the unexpected noise.
"I need to- uh." He stumbled away from her. "I'm sorry Liz – this is diffi-" he cut himself off, shaking his head and clenching his fists under his leather jacket. "I need to go."
He bolted from the room, leaving his mother spluttering in her chair as she watched her only son run from her – his eyes only filled with a disgust that she had unconsciously ingrained into him.
He ran, of course, toward the lake. It was his version of a safe haven. It was where if felt like each important instance in his his short time at Stars Hollow had happened. Peaceful, undisturbed, and often solitary.
As his luck would have it, in the instance he needed it, the place was already occupied.
He'd already run onto the rickety, wooden boards of the bridge and had, unfortunately, announced his arrival.
"I'm sorry, I'll – uh, I'll go."
"No. Jess, don't go." Rory tapped the space next to her with a smile that was, for all intents and purposes, friendly. Jess, however, approached warily.
He sat, cupped his fingers in his palm, and watched the reflection of the street lights flow with the moving water of the windy evening.
"Everything alright?" He asked first, his eyes unfocused and staring at the water.
"Why'd you ask?"
"You only come here to get away." He explained with a shrug following his words.
"Yeah." She said, confirming his suspicion, but avoiding his question. "You?"
"Yep."
That was all that needed to be said. It was coming up to half an hour of silence before one of them spoke again. Both staring. Both missing in their minds.
Both lost.
It wasn't, however, who either of them expected to speak up first.
"I just feel like screaming sometimes." Jess admitted. He was whispering, still looking ahead, and feeling twitchy under his vulnerable admition.
"Then scream." She said simply.
He let out a choked laughter and looked at Rory like she'd finally cracked. "What?"
Rory seemed to get a wicked grin on her face. She pulled her hands away from where they'd been stuffed in her pockets and used them to push herself up from the bridge and stand. She flicked up her hand, beckoning Jess to follow her in her upright position, and waited for him to do so before continuing.
"If you want to scream, then scream." She said once he'd wiped away the invisible flint from his trousers. "Everyone is at the town hall shouting at each other anyway – so scream. No one will hear you and it might make you feel better."
"Are you kidding?"
"No," she laughed, "Here, I'll do it first." She took a step back, as if she was convinced the force of her scream might knock him back. He stayed where he was, watching her with a cocked eyebrow and completely dubious.
She sucked in a deep breath and leant back – letting out a guttural and frankly frightening scream. Jess stepped back and couldn't help the hysterical laugh that was ripped out of him at her display.
She fell forward, leaning on her knees as she laughed along with him, breathless but feeling like she'd finally let something go. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, letting her hair fall in front of her face, smiling at his watery eyes and loud, all-encompassing smile that stretched across his whole face.
"Your turn."