Thanks to all of those who read and reviewed! I know the chapters are short, but for now, I feel like it makes sense stylistically. Maybe they'll expand later, but maybe not. I changed my mind about staying away from Jackson's POV...I feel like the story won't work as well without some of his thoughts.

Alright, just a warning for this chapter (and the next few)- Lisa isn't supposed to be relatable right now. If she doesn't make sense to you, it's because generally something like suicidal thoughts aren't supposed to be understood except to the person thinking them. So yes, she's being over-dramatic and immature. It will take a little while for her to get back her Lisa-ness that we loved in the film, because she's reverted to her old self, but worse since it's a "relapse", if you will. She'll get stronger with time, so if you're not liking how whiny she's being, stick with it- yes, she's kind of OOC from where the film left off, but it's been two years since then. She won't stay like this, though- promise.

KnoKnayme- Danke, darling!

BW4eva- He irks me too, and he's going to get much worse. He's definitely not a nice guy. As for Brad...we'll just have to see if he really is perfect. :P

MademoiselleGF- Here's the way I see it- she went into her little shell after her rape, and who's to say she can't do it again when surrounded by the same kinds of people? It's my belief that when people treat you with concern/sympathy, it's a lot easier to feel sorry for yourself. When people are always asking if you're okay, it's pretty easy to think that you're not. And don't worry- she's disappointed in herself too.

Eva's going to be in and out, and she should be a fun little character to play with. :)

Jackson most definitely gets off thinking of Lisa. And he's also disappointed in her, so you have that in common with both of them. Just please bear with me...she'll get better. And hell, I'm kind of disappointed in her too, although I do love Louboutins and would sell my kidney to get some. As for your last little comment, you convinced me that we need some Jackson POV, although he isn't exactly bleeding heart bubbles right now.

PirateGyrl- That review totally made my night. I had gotten stuck in the snow for half an hour on a back road in bumfuck Minnesota (one of the worst places to be), and when I finally got out and got to a gas station (yeah, I was totally almost out of gas too), I decided to check my email and literally laughed out loud at your idea. I wasn't planning on it, but I'm thinking that it would be pretty hilarious. I just have to figure out a way to make it work now.

Angst and ugh:

Chapter 2: Improvisation

Lisa wandered through her empty apartment, barely noticing the boxes stacked against the walls. It wouldn't be her apartment much longer- she was finally moving in with Brad. Actually, it would still be a few weeks before the big move- she didn't want to leave before her lease expired- but since she usually had nothing better to do, she found herself absently packing up her belongings.

Most of them wouldn't even go to the penthouse- Brad didn't need her furniture or her appliances, and he had plenty of decor. Compared to the gorgeous art he had, her possessions were tacky and gaudy. He had suggested that she could just throw most of it away, but Lisa insisted on donating it. Someone could use her overstuffed suede couch and dark oak coffee table.

She wandered onto her balcony, sipping from her second- third?- glass of wine. She leaned on the railing, staring at the gorgeous city before her- bright lights as far as the eye could see, the sounds of traffic, and faint music coming from some nearby club. And she wasn't a part of it. She was in a silent, dimly lit apartment. The worst part was that she could only imagine what she was missing because she had never experienced it. She had never had the exciting life with the wild friends- only watched others.

She and her friends went out, and she went out with Brad often enough, but she just felt like she was missing some...something...that everyone else around her had a grasp on. It was like she was at a party that she hadn't really been invited to.

Brad was in Paris...or was it London? She couldn't remember anymore. He went all over the world, to places that she used to dream of being in her 'when I win the lottery' fantasies. Well now she had won it. Sometimes she went to those places with him, but when he was working, she was left alone again. And a city like Paris wasn't meant to be experienced alone.

Lisa laughed dryly. She was being so pathetically maudlin- too much wine. She thought back to the telephone conversation with her dad when she had excitedly broken the news of her engagement to him. He had been ecstatic, over the moon with joy. His happiness made her happy. Of course he had still worried about her after the flight, but since Brad came into her life, she had heard 'Are you alright?' fewer and fewer times...she didn't even remember the last time Joe had asked. He finally seemed satisfied that Lisa was indeed 'fine'.

Of course, she wasn't. And the most maddening thing was that she couldn't even to begin to explain why. At least before, she had had a reason. Now things were fucking fantastic.

No...they weren't. Lisa knew they weren't. Even if she could fool those around her, she couldn't convince herself anymore. She tipped back her head, swallowing the rest of her wine before letting the glass slip from her fingers. She didn't even flinch when she heard it shatter stories below her. She grimaced in disgust as it occurred to her that she actually felt jealous of the glass.

Lisa completely collapsed, dropping her weight on her forearms. She was finding it difficult to breathe, like she had dove too far into a pool and the surface was out of reach. She wanted out. She wanted to break off the wedding and just run away from whatever it was that was draining the life from her. She hated feeling like this- so pathetic, so lost. She prided herself on being able to fix problems, but what could she do when it was inherently her that was to blame?

And she hated herself for even letting it get this far. She couldn't just break it off now. If she did that, she would have to face Brad's pain, Wellmont's anger, her father's constant concern, and her mother's haranguing. She would have to deal with all the negativity from everyone around her- she doubted she could make any of them understand when she herself didn't.

She took a few steps back, short breaths of oxygen piercing her lungs. It was too overwhelming...the lights she had been staring at longingly were spinning around her, taunting her. Too much. Too fucking much.

Lisa grabbed a patio bench and slid it across the concrete toward the railing, wincing at the harsh sound of the metal legs grinding against the concrete. She had to get out. She couldn't handle the pressure anymore, always having to do the right thing, always having to make others around her happy. Brad would move on- she wasn't special enough for him to mourn over for very long. Her dad would be devastated, but...at least he could stop worrying about her and she wouldn't have to worry about pleasing him anymore. The very idea that her dad was just another burden just increased Lisa's nausea. What was wrong with her?

Lisa took a step onto the bench, surprised to find that her legs weren't shaking like she had expected. This actually felt right. She was heading in a self-appointed direction, even if that direction was the pavement. And the thrill of fear searing through her was almost an erotic thrill. Lisa took another step, tightly squeezing the railing. She tilted her head back, her eyes closing, and reveled in the sensation of the wind blowing through her hair, finally able to take a deep breath again.

She felt so free.

Lisa flinched as her reverie was rudely interrupted by a shrill whistle from below. She braced herself to regain her balance and snapped her focus to the sidewalk, trying to find the intruder.

Her heart stopped in her chest. Him. He wasn't a glimpse in a crowd or a mysterious profile. He was standing there, alone, and definitely wasn't a figment of her overactive imagination. Her heart came back to life, pounding away like it had after those damn dreams.

Lisa felt a jolt of excitement race through her body when he held up a hand, lazily curling his index and middle finger in a gesture for her to come down.

"But you might want to use the stairs," he clarified, a dark smile forming on his lips. Lisa quickly stepped back from the bench, out of sight. She hugged herself, breathing rapidly. What now? Should she call the cops and tell them that she had found him? She should, but...

Lisa quickly raced into her apartment, grabbing her purse and slipping on her heels. Oh, this was stupid. But it beats having your brains pop out of your head like confetti. And the knowledge that she shouldn't be going down there only made her move faster. It made her want it more, even if it was an insanely dangerous move on her part. And if he killed her...well, it all amounted to the same thing, did it? Same end, different means.

She hurried down the stairs, the words 'stop' and 'go' alternating in her head with each footfall. She finally reached front door and came face to face with him. Jackson. Her heart raced with fear as she approached him, trying not to let him see how stupidly excited she really was.

Jackson said nothing, stepping back toward a waiting car without breaking eye contact or losing that smile. Lisa stepped closer to him- it was as though she had lost control of her legs. She couldn't stop if she wanted to.

Jackson reached behind him and opened the back door of the gleaming black Cadillac, waiting for Lisa to climb in. He swiftly followed her into the enclosed space, and the driver pulled out into the street.

Lisa cleared her throat softly. Her mouth felt like cotton. What exactly does a person say in these situations? Hi? How have you been? Jackson glanced over at her, a teasing smirk on his face. Lisa felt both offended and thrilled. How could he not be worried about what she would do? Where did that confidence come from?

And how dare he look so damn delicious? He had gotten a haircut since she'd seen him last- the shorter hair suited him. She forced herself to look away to keep from looking like some obsessed creeper, but it was so difficult. Sitting there, with that black slim-fit John Varvatos button-up, those dark blue jeans- looked like D&G- and that deliberately unruly hair...she could feel the power radiating from him. It was as though he didn't give a shit about the world around him, but still managed to own it. She couldn't help but wonder what that was like.

Lisa dropped her head against the glass. You're getting a little ridiculous, girl...get it together. Say something- let him know that he doesn't own you.

"I could have you arrested, you know," she reminded him, turning to face him again.

Jackson nodded, giving away no hint of concern. "And I could kill you right here," he responded as he leaned closer to her. It was too close for comfort, but Lisa didn't pull away. She didn't want to be comfortable.

"But you won't," she replied firmly. It wasn't a question- somehow she knew that he was there for other reasons.

Jackson nodded once. "And neither will you." Lisa didn't respond, which suited him just fine. He leaned back, making brief eye contact with his associate in the rearview mirror. He hadn't meant for this to happen- Lisa was not supposed to be in his car. In fact, he could have very well blown his plan before he had really started. They were just supposed to be watching her, becoming familiar with her routine.

But when he saw her out on that balcony, he had been compelled to get her attention. At first, when he realized what she was doing, he felt an overwhelming disgust that had almost decided to call off the entire thing- she was too far gone, too pathetic. It was one thing to be unhappy, but to throw yourself off a balcony? It was beyond senseless.

But a few minutes had gone by, and Jackson realized that Lisa had no intention of jumping, even if she didn't know it. She was just enjoying the adrenaline rush of thinking that she would. And although he could tell that she was unhappy- he had no idea how the people around her didn't, really- he hadn't seen any real motivation behind her sadness. How the fiery woman he had seen break from her shell two years ago ended up right back in another cage of people-pleasing and pretending to be fine was a complete mystery to him.

Jackson watched the other woman with amusement. She obviously couldn't decide if she wanted to be there or not, but he knew that just the fact that she was questioning such things meant that he hadn't been wrong about her. He had seen something that had reminded him of himself, but a little more dangerous. A fire started out of necessity instead of rationality- after all, she had been trying to save the lives of Keefe and his family, her dad, and herself. He had long wondered if that spirit would go right back where it came from when it wasn't needed, and it looked like he had been right about that as well.

If Jackson had learned anything from his last encounter with Lisa, it was that she had a penchant for ruining his plans. With her, it was improvisation around a barebone strategy. So while this early encounter was definitely not something he had planned, it was what he had to do. After all, it didn't exactly work well for him if Lisa became just another smear on the concrete. He needed that fire that she had buried deep inside her again, and if he had to drag it out himself, he would.

Just to let you guys know, the story will be rated M by the next chapter.