Jack hopped in his car and before starting it sat there, key place. What did Kate mean? I would have said yes. What did that mean? What happened last night? He could barely remember anything. And Marc may be his only hope at remembering that had happened between him and his best friend, his love, Kate. He shook his head and started the car. He better go find out. And fast to, actually. She said their friendship would never be the same, she could never forgive him. He didn't know if he could live with that. It was bad enough he had hurt her in some way. He hated hurting her and would avoid it all costs, and now he didn't even know how to fix it, or if it was fixable. He pulled out into the New York traffic. He was probably the only native New Yorker with a car. He liked cars; it was a graduation present from his father. He had fallen in love with it. He knew it like he would know his own child. As he waited in the traffic, he tried to imagine what he could have said to Kate. What if he called her told her he hated her? Or that he thinks her art sucks? Or that he doesn't want to be her friend anymore? None of which are true in any shape or form. He's in love with her, he doesn't hate her. She makes some of the most beautiful art Jack has ever seen and he wants to be her best friend for now and to eternity.

Soon, Jack reached Marc's flat and ran inside. He had gotten changed and worn jeans, a blue shirt and sunglasses to help the pounding behind his eyes. He pulled open the door and pressed Marc's button.

It was a long wait. "Hello...?" Marc asked. He was clearly hung over to.

"It's me, open up."

The buzz went and Jack went to the elevator and braced himself as he felt the motion, the lifting making his stomach feeling weaker than it already did. The elevator opened on the fifth floor, Marc's floor. As Jack got out a women looking haggard and tired got in. Jack wondered if she came from Marc's apartment. He was very gratefully he woke up alone on his couch, instead of with a strange women in his arms. But then again, he couldn't even remember last night, so who is to say he didn't?

Jack knocked.

"Why are you being so damn LOUD?" Marc yelled as he ripped the door open. "Get in, ass hole." Marc was in his boxers and had a blanket wrapped around him. "Ugh." He slowly lowered himself onto his own couch. "I want to die." He said. "Did you see that women when you were coming?" He asked. Jack nodded. So it was his. "I woke up naked with her, but I have no recollection of being with her whatsoever." Marc buried his head in the pillow as he lay on his stomach.

Jack's heart sunk. In any normal situation, Jack might find Marc's misery a little bit funny. The two liked to tease and bully each other. It was a part of their relationships strange dynamic. But this wasn't funny. Because Marc couldn't remember either. And now who did Jack have to turn to?

"So, you don't remember either?" Jack asked, sitting down in one of Marc's lay-z boy chairs. Marc had three lay-z boy chairs and one long couch. They were perfect for watching the game on Marc's big screen. It was customary for him, Jack, and Kate to watch the games together.

Marc rolled over and looked at him tiredly. "I wish. I'm never going to get another women like that in a million years."

"She wasn't that great, Marc." Jack said.

Marc rolled his eyes. "Only because you are hooked on, Kate." Jack looked down. "I remember that much, man. I feel like I just finished a mystery novel. That explains why you get so depressed. Because you can't have her. I'd get depressed to."

Jack nodded but said nothing.

"So, tell me," Marc pushed himself up on his hands, holding himself in push up position. "Why on earth do you go out with other women when you are head over heels for her?"

"Because I can't have her and sometimes I get lonely." Jack snapped, blushed.

But Marc didn't really care. "Well, I hate to break it to you, man. But if she's in love with you back, and you are dating other women, she isn't likely to make a move." Marc rolled his eyes and dropped back down.

"Not anymore." Jack muttered darkly.

Marc heard this. "Huh?" He inquired stupidly.

"I called her last night." Jack admitted shamefully. "And then I called her back this morning and she got really mad, like really, really mad." Jack put his head in his hands. "And she said all of this stuff about how it will never be the same, and how she'll never forgive me and that I'm a terrible person..." Jack willed back the tears building in his eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out with his next statement, "And then before she hung up she said 'I would have said yes.'" Jack looked up at Marc who was now sitting up, hand over his forehead which was probably throbbing like the seven dwarfs were mining in it.

"What do you think you said?" Marc asked.

"I have no idea. I was hoping you would know."

Marc shrugged. "Sorry, man, can't help you there." He paused. "Maybe Jessica knows."

"Who?" Jack asked, confused. Marc pointed to the bubbly lettering on Jacks arm. "Oh, yeah, I guess I didn't completely wash it off in the shower." Jack mumbled. He had forgotten about it.

"Well, give her a call. She obviously wanted you to call Kate back, so maybe she knows why you called her."

Jack shook his head. "This girl wrote her name and number on me, Marc. Does that sound like the kind of girl who just tells guys to call other women?" Marc looked away. "Yeah, I didn't think so." They sat in silence for a few moments. "Look, get in the shower. I'll get you some coffee and good, yummy, breakfast." Jack finally suggested. "What time does that club open? I'm going to go down and see if the bar man knows what happened. We were at the bar all night weren't we?" He couldn't remember.

Marc nodded. "I don't know but...yeah, I think so." He got up and went into the bathroom. Jack went into the kitchen and made coffee, as we waited for the machine to jump to life he tried his hardest to remember who Jessica was. He wasn't going to call her. But maybe if he could remember her he could remember who the other Kate is. Was it Jessica's unknown friend, Kate? Or Jack's Kate? Maybe not Jack's Kate. Probably never Jack's Kate. He might have blown it for good.

Jack quickly grabbed a bowl and filled it with a milk and cereal and left. He needed to go back to the club, now. He needed to find out what happened. He stood in elevator when the doors were shutting he saw Marc pop his head out his door. He must have seen the cereal.

"You son of –" The doors closed on him.