Author's Notes: Thank you guys for the amazing feedback. About this chapter, well, let me put it this way: Complicated just became even more complicated for Buffy and Angel. I never did say that this was going to be a super fluffy story after all, hehe. As always, feedback is greatly encouraged and welcome. Hope you guys enjoy it. And if there's any questions, feel free to ask. Enjoy!

Chapter Six

He didn't respond. At least not at first. Nevertheless, it didn't stop me from taking two steps back, both my body and facial expression paralyzed as my eyes began to drink him in, accessing his body language, noticing a few differences that were rather difficult to conceal from the general public.

His gaunt, skeletal cheekbones were more than distinct. It wasn't a pretty image to behold, and at realizing how fragile he appeared to be, I couldn't open my mouth to allow any words to form. I was beyond motionless, my eyes never leaving his as they continued to study him from head to toe.

Already, a few suspicions were beginning to develop in the back of my mind.

"Who needs to know?" he finally responded, but with a cold, stern tone that etched underneath his voice. I had to force myself to do a double take; this was not the same man that I knew from long ago.

This was someone entirely different. One that I no longer recognized as someone dear to me.

It broke my heart at seeing him in this questionable condition. More so than the fact that he didn't seem to know who I was. My mind was racing with thoughts of drug abuse, but I didn't force myself to dwell upon it. I opened my mouth at an attempt to counter his icy response.

"This can't be you. Don't you remember me?" I took a step closer, but made sure to add distance between us as his face developed into a slightly impatient scowl.

"Who are you kidding? I see lots of pretty women like you every day. You need to be more specific as to how I know you. Names to me are just a blur in my head," he sniped, his expression frigid, his eyes narrowing at me as if I was just a mere nuisance to him. "Is this some kind of fucking joke? Angel, it's me, Buffy," I tried once again, ignoring the fact that I was probably overstepping my boundaries and entering into dangerous territory of the unknown.

"Buffy? Buffy? Oh, yeah. I think I remember you. Or at least, I used to think that I did. Ancient history; not important to me anymore. I know Cordelia and Willow invited you to come to my performance, with you being their friend and all. But I should had called them earlier and convinced them to change their mind in allowing you to come down here. I haven't exactly been in the mood in wanting to see you as of late."

At the harshness of his words, my breath was taken aback. It was as if someone had delivered a fierce blow to my stomach. Instead of breaking down to cry, anger furrowed my brows together as I tried not to clench my hands into fists. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to throw the first punch and ruin Angel's distorted visage.

Anything to make him feel the pain that I was feeling while I stood helplessly before him. I hadn't noticed that we were the only two customers left in the deserted parking lot.

I didn't care. I just couldn't.

"I supported you all those years before you made it big. I drove myself here hundreds of times just to watch you perform on stage with your band. All those nights spent at cheap ass hotels; just you and I spending time together, becoming close friends. Angel, what's happened to you that all of a sudden, you became this cold hearted bastard? Was it something I did? Was it my fault?" I could feel my lips begin to quiver as guilt began to set in, but I held as strongly as I could to fight against the oncoming set of tears, my eyes now locking against his, keeping my gaze firm and steady against his towering height.

I could see him clenching his teeth together as he took a step forward. A look of both sadness and despair flitted his face, his breath tickling against my skin as I caught the scent of whiskey and bourbon emitting from that same breath, causing my nose to wrinkle in disgust.

His shoulders loosened before he replied in a dull voice. "You probably don't care, but after when my career was taking off, everyone stopped seeing me as this wonderful man with a good heart. Even my family; they were starting to see me as nothing more than just a quick cash grab that they could do anything they want with. They were using me. They used me to buy them drugs, alcohol, the works. It was only a matter of time before one of them dragged me into using the hard stuff as well: cocaine, even the black tar variation, LSD, crystal meth, you name it. It wasn't long before I started suffering from clinical depression and all of this other mental shit that the therapists kept telling me about."

I didn't hesitate in asking the next question, but at the same time, I was fearing his answer. "Why didn't you tell me about all this?" It was a long time before he answered, and the night air was becoming even cooler. In a curt voice, "Because I didn't think you cared. It didn't seem like you did."

"Why would you think that?" My voice took on a sharper edge. "Because! After when I became famous, everything changed. Even us. I barely saw you. And you hardly ever talked to me anymore. What was I suppose to think? I needed something stable in my life, and you weren't there! I had to deal with all of my problems alone; without my biggest supporter. At the time, you were the only one who gave a shit about what happened to me. Like I just said, things had changed. It was only a matter of time before I stopped wondering about you or what you were doing that was more important than me."

"You're blaming me, aren't you?" I questioned with a harsh tone, sensing that I already knew the answer. He was about to open his mouth when we were suddenly interrupted. "Angel! Come on, we got a show to catch," a husky, female voice called from the back of the limousine, tendrils of blond hair exposing itself through the open window.

I didn't need to see who the woman was. I already knew. It didn't take long before my face began to scowl. "And she's the one who's dragging you back into that doped up mentality, isn't she?"

"Like I said, you haven't cared in a long time, so why should you worry about who I hang out with?" Angel snarled. "Just when you jumped out of the frying pan, you're going right back into it? Only this time, you're letting some stranger in? Are you fucking nuts?" I snapped.

"Better to let some stranger into my life than to be alone again. No thanks to you." With this, he trotted back to the limousine without ordering a single item from the establishment, leaving me to experience an emotion that I hadn't felt in what seemed like ages: hopeless.

I glued my eyes to the back of the limo, watching it skitter away. Looking towards the full moon at the right end of the sky, I closed my eyes, praying that somehow, someway, Angel could be saved.