Author's Notes: Thank you guys once again for the amazing feedback. I'm very happy that you're enjoying the story very much. From this point on, it's safe to say that the tone for this will become darker, and therefore, the rating will began to increase as it will include sexual situations. This chapter, thanks to a suggestion from ashes at midnight, will be based on Angel's point of view that leads up to the L.A. show. As always, feedback is encouraged, and none of the characters belong to me. Please feel free to add in any suggestions or ideas for the story as well. I also wanted to point out that this chapter may raise a few questions, but don't worry, those will be answered in the next chapter or two, and that Buffy's point of view will be added to coincide with Angel's in an upcoming chapter. Their situation is only becoming even more complex than just 'relationship' issues. On to chapter four, so enjoy guys!

Chapter Five

From the private journal of Angel Liam…

October 25th, 2010

One day before the concert in Los Angeles…

It's been months since the last time I had sat back and thought of that woman who calls herself Buffy Summers. Do I care whether or not that I'm forgetting about her? Most of the time, nowadays, I don't. Why should I have to? She hasn't called or emailed me for almost nine months, and I've lost patience because of that. Honestly, when I try to conjure up an image of her, I forget the smallest details: her hair, the color of her eyes, the way she held herself. Does it really matter anymore? She's not in my life most of the time, so what's the point? I have her; I have my syringes, my never ending fix, and that's all I ever need in this chaotic life of mine. I don't want anything else. I don't need real love, and I don't need to give any of it because no one is worthy of my affections, except for the one who matters the most in my life. Whatever that's left in my black little heart is reserved for only her, and no one else. If anyone can't see that I 'love' her to death, they can go fuck themselves because I don't need their negativity around me. Or perhaps it was a good thing that she knows that I don't really love her. As long as I'm getting laid, I don't really give a shit about the rest. But...

Friends, family, even my manager and band mates have told me time and time again that I need to cut my ties with her and go to rehab. Apparently, she's poisoning my life and slowly turning it into withering dust. My closest friends, the ones whom I trust the most, have told me to leave her behind. They tell me that someday, she will drag me through the darkest pits of hell and that there would be no way of turning back and repairing the damage. They told me the other night that if I continue like this, they would sever ties and end our friendship forever.

They were more than willing to throw me to the wolves in the cage.

Some fucking loyal friends they turned out to be. All the best to get rid of them as soon as I'm able. Why should I have to get rid of her? As of writing this, she's under the desk on all fours, giving me the best blowjob that I ever had as I felt her taking my shaft into her mouth and giving it a good lick and suck. I bet Buffy herself couldn't take up the task if it was offered to her.

I closed my eyes, gasping as I placed my hand through the tendrils of my woman's blond hair, giving it a slight pull as I growled and panted my breath away. It was a good distraction from the perils of the rock star life. Not to mention that the woman herself was an absolutely great fuck. All the more reason I wanted to keep her around. Constant sex was one of the only ways that made living the life slightly bearable on a daily basis.

The difference between her and the others: she was the only one willing to kill the loneliness that was becoming the sole purpose of my life.

No one else had wanted to. Not even Buffy herself. Years later, the reminder, the mental image, still broke my heart. When I asked her to wait for me, she didn't. Even when I offered the claddagh ring that was meant for only her, she hadn't kept her promise. She left me behind to face the world alone. I clenched my teeth at the distant memory, blinking a tear that was threatening to spill from my eyes. At the time, I wasn't sure if I had fallen in love with her. But it was heading that way. The feelings then were scary and surreal. I didn't know how to act upon them. All I knew then was that I wanted to be with her in some capacity. I wanted her to stay in my life.

I wanted us to be more than just what we were. I wanted us to be something. Anything but friends. But how do I feel about her as of this writing?

Hate, anger, and heartbreak, mostly. And it felt good. Almost like taking a direct hit.

And tomorrow, she would be amongst the hundreds of fans who were going to make their presence known at my show. Though if I had my way, she would not come anywhere near the vicinity.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hoped that I would not come anywhere near her, nor her to me. She was important to me once. Nowadays, she is nothing.

And it felt good just thinking that.

Maybe I was only fooling myself. I was still hurting, and the only ways to kill the unending pain were sex and drugs.

I would never stop.