A/N: I do not own the song "The Ghost of You and Me" by BBMak. Yes, I am using a BBMak song, but I think it is such a beautiful., poetic, sad song, and it really fits here.

Chapter Two: The Ghost of You and Me

Blinded by blazing televisions and the cruelty of alcohol, Gordo stumbled helplessly out of the bar and into the glow of the moon overhead. His vision was clouded. He fell onto the tar of the parking lot. Pain shot through him like lightning. Rain fell from the dark heavens onto his broken skin and face, like a sign from God that he was not taking good care of himself.

"I gotcha," Gordo said to his creator as he pulled himself up off the wet, hard ground. He patted his pockets in search of his rental car keys. He found them and unlocked the old Aveo, parked a few feet away. Climbing clumsily into it, he noticed he smelled like beer and smoke. He needed a shower. If only he could remember how to get to his hotel.

David Gordon's life had gone downhill two years ago. His graduation from college, which was supposed to be a joyous day, became hell. He lost the woman of his dreams that day, and all because of a screwy situation he had gotten himself cornered into.

He had partnered up in film class with a girl named Carissa Norrel. He was the director of a short film, she was the star. Gordo's passion was directing, so everything needed to be perfect. He was with Carissa 24/7. People continually told them they made a cute couple, and little old women in Central Park always patted them on the shoulders and said, "Good for you." Carissa was a very nice girl. She was friendly and funny and smart. But Gordo never had any feelings for her. After all, he had a girlfriend.

Elizabeth Brooke McGuire.

Lizzie McGuire.

Lizzie.

Her name still left a sweet taste in his mouth, like her kiss. It had been two years since he had experienced that kiss, and he wanted it so badly. He wanted HER so badly.

Gordo stuck the keys in the ignition, turned them, and drove slowly onto the street. He hadn't had much to drink – two beers - but he was sick to begin with. He had been sick ever since that day. So sick that he actually checked himself into a hospital about six months after it happened. They told him to sleep, something he hadn't gotten much of, and gave him some antidepressants. He felt a little better, but the heartache was still there.

He wasn't depressed from not seeing her; he had gone for months without physically seeing her. He was sad the, of course, but he went insane knowing that she was totally and completely out of his life.

She hated him. She didn't care about him. She didn't love him. That hurt worst of all.

Because he still loved her.

What am I supposed to do with all these blues haunting me everywhere, no matter what I do?-

Gordo currently lived in a little shoebox apartment in Brooklyn. He worked at an electronics store to support himself and shot a film on the weekends (not starring Carissa Norrel, or course). He had no family in L.A., considering his parents had retired to Key West, but he was here to see if someone would buy his movie, which was finally done.

He continued to drive. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew it wasn't the direction of his hotel.

Watching the candle flicker out in the evening glow, I can't let go-

He saw the exit for Hillridge and turned. There was nowhere he could go there, but it was familiar territory. Hillridge, his old stomping grounds. Though driving through the streets of his hometown was comforting in a way, memories of his lost love flooded back to him in a cool wave of regret.

When will the night be over?-

He sped past Noise Candy, which had a giant picture of Lizzie, the hometown hero, in the window. He couldn't look at it, even though he was dying to. But he drove on, figuring it wasn't worth the pain. He had enough pictures of her.

I didn't mean to fall in love with you, and baby there's a name for what you put me through. It isn't love; it's robbery. I'm sleeping with the ghost of you and me-

Gordo's stomach suddenly did a somersault and he pulled over. He tumbled out of the car and puked all over his shoes.

"Great," he mumbled. He was about to climb back in the car when he felt the nasty side effects of beer work its way back up his system. He dropped to his knees, landing in a puddle of throw-up, and continued the lovely ritual.

When he was done, he took off his shirt and shoes and climbed into the Aveo. He wiped off his knees with his shirt and tossed it out the window as he drove back onto the road.

This was what Lizzie was doing to him.

Seen a lot of broken hearts go sailing by. Phantom ships lost at sea... well, one of them is mine-

He finally came to a point where he realized he couldn't drive anymore. He ditched the Aveo by the park. Looking towards the stars, Gordo felt like dying. Was life, was all this, worth it? Was Lizzie McGuire worth it?

Raising my glass, I sing a toast to the midnight sky. I wonder why the stars don't seem to guide me-

Gordo began walking. No destination in mind. He hated himself. Why had he done the things he did? Well, he really hadn't done anything wrong, but he hadn't done anything right either, and it lost him the beautiful source of his constant misery.

I didn't mean to fall in love with you, and baby there's a name for what you put me through. It isn't love; it's robbery. I'm sleeping with the ghost of you and me-

He desperately wanted to get over her, move on. He had wasted two years of his life crying over her. Stupid, he told himself, stupid, stupid, stupid.

The ghost of you and me, when will it set me free? I here the voices call, following footsteps down the hall, trying to save what's left of my heart and soul-

Gordo stopped and sat on a bench. He felt so sick. What was he going to do? Where was he going to go? The Aveo would probably get towed. He didn't have his hotel room key. All he had was the slowly fading memory of his love, gone forever (a bit dramatic, ain't it?).

Watching the candle flicker out in the evening glow, I can't let go. When will the night be over?-

Suddenly, Gordo thought of a solution to his problem. Turning around, he recognized where he was. He stood up; he knew where he would go.

I didn't mean to fall in love with you, and baby there's a name for what you put me through. It isn't love; it's robbery. I'm sleeping with the ghost of you and me-

Hey everyone! Sorry I'm a little late. I had this chapter written down but not typed, and then I couldn't find the notebook… Anyway, what do you think of this chapter? I know that this story should be called "Two Crazy Drunk People That Love Each Other", but I promise, it gets happier. I love this song, though. Sure, it's BBMak, but I love it. My favorite line is "Raising my glass, I sing a toast to the midnight sky. I wonder why the stars don't seem to guide me." Blah, blah, blah. I'm sure you people don't care! I'll update again soon!

NOTE: I WILL PROBABLY BE CHANGING MY PENNAME BEFORE I UPDATE AGAIN, BUT I'M NOT SURE TO WHAT YET.

Peace flower children.

Goddess4LiFe