Title: The Empty Space
Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, the characters, or the WB. And if I did would I be here writing fan fiction? ;)
Dedication: To the lovely reviewers at Stars-hollow.org who were so kind, helpful and sweet. Especially Lorena, Arianna, Jenz, Shannon, Kelly and stargazer. *hugs* I hope to see you around here for the revised version. :)
A/N: Thank you for taking your time to review. :D This is the revised version of a finished fic that is up at Stars-Hollow.org ~ Stephanie
Please R&R.
Chapter Four: The Brick and the Wallet
He steps onto the boardwalk and hears the chatter and laughter float through the summer air. The air smells sweetly like salt. It makes him think of cinnamon, for some odd reason. He feels so alone in a city where nobody is watching your every move and doesn't knows your name. He can't decide whether or not her likes this fact.
He's adapted to the lifestyle compared to past years, where he'd wear three top layers and top layers, no matter the weather. Someone taps him on the shoulder, kindly asking him a question as sun beams reach his eye.
He turns around and looks at the elder man with a frown. "Excuse me, sir, I couldn't help but noticed that you looked lost."
Lost. The word sounds so eerie as it echoes in his head. It seems like it will never stop. It grows louder every ten seconds, only to fade back, and again into it's loud tone. A vicious circle. Seven years of being a resident in the same area, and he's lost.
He tries to laugh, but fails. A strange, choky breath escapes, taking its place. He stares at the man, directly in the eye, looking confused. The elder man stares back looking remarkably patient. He knows this masks the annoyance inside.
"No," he tells him. "I'm fine." He draws out the words slowly, and loudly, thinking that the man may not be able to hear him. But he doesn't hear a request from him to repeat his answer. Simply a slight nod, and a small wave goodbye.
Jess watches the man walk in another direction, moving past people, looking very small. He feels the strange desire to catch his attention and tell him, "Yes. I'm lost. I've never been here before and I'm confused… it's so different. And I'm alone and …" When he repeats these words in his head, he imagines a vulnerable and trembling child. But of 'course he doesn't say a word.
After all, it made no sense.
-
He sits at his favorite place right before the beach begins. A concrete bench where he has the most perfect view of the crescent-shaped beach and the murky ocean. The water glitters under the sunlight, creating the awful lie that it's beautiful.
He sits there and listens to the sounds of the boardwalk behind him and the bright laughter and rush of the ocean in front of him. Somewhere between the loud noises and his own silence, his mind drifts off.
His heart aches with shame and torture of the terrible realization he discovered earlier today. He knows he can't keep it up much longer. He knows that only as time will go by, he'll crumble and break under the raging emotions.
He thinks of Kate and her friendship over the years. Her gentle face and sweet smile. She's a brick that never breaks or wears out. Never collapses from all the pressure and difficulties in her life. He thinks he will become dust to her.
He's just another to pass by and enter her life. There is no mark that he's made.
He grimaces under the burning torture of the sun and the heavy weight on his shoulders. He's already looking ahead to the future, predicting Kate's future. Just something else to distract him from his own. He stares blankly at the endless ocean, wondering if he'll ever learn.
He lowers his head and peers at his watch. He needs to get home. He makes the awkward attempt of getting back on the ground.
He feels unsteady.
-
He closes the front door softly, expecting Kate to come out of the kitchen and accuse of him of being late. "I've been waiting forever for you," he imagines her saying.
But the only sound in the house is rustle of movement above him. He walks to the couch and dusts off dirt from his nice pair of jeans. He leans his head back on the couch and smoothes out his black button down shirt. His hands are nervous, shaking from… everything.
He's so afraid. So terrified. He'd thought all of this… this side of him was all gone. He'd thought he had grown up and finally found the right path. But he was so misled. That path only led him back to where he started from.
Before he can continue these thoughts, Kate runs down the stairs and searches for lost objects. He can't find it in himself to even speak. "K-kate," he manages.
She turns to look at him, and smiles shortly. "Hey," she replies.
He just nods and takes this as the proper greeting. He watches her rush from place to place, her hands viciously searching through drawers.
"What are you looking for?" he asks. The question seems funny as it escapes his lips.
"My hairclip," she answers. "It's dark brown, and it's medium-sized…" her words trail off into the air. "Ah-hah!" she yells in triumph, seconds later.
She waves the brown hairclip in the air with a bright smile. "We ready now? The club is already open, and the show starts in less than half and hour," he informs her.
She holds up one finger, signaling one more minute. "Just have to get my purse."
He nods and waits back on the couch as he listens to her loud shoes against the stairs.
He reaches for his wallet in his back pocket, but reaches for nothing. He sighs and yells, "Kate, I left our tickets in my wallet! It's on the bed side table!"
He waits for her to appear at the bottom stairs so they can leave. It wasn't like he wanted to go. He just needed any chance at distraction. He definitely wasn't going to find that here.
"Jess!"
He sighs wondering if she can't find his wallet. "What?"
"Could you please come up here?"
He runs up the stairs; every step along the way, he feels he might trip. His shoes feel heavier by the minute. He walks down the hallway, every one in a while, he feels the sun upon his face. He talks as he approaches the bedroom. "I'm here Kate. What's wrong?"
He pushes the ajar door and walks in. When he does, he feels numb. Stiff. He stands dead still where he is. In front of him, stands Kate, in her red sundress, tan shoes with her hair pulled back with that brown clip. There was nothing wrong with this image standing before him, it was the object in her hand that made him feel afraid.
Christmas Morning. The picture.
"Care to fill me in?"
He chokes on his own breath.