Dull grays draped the room, cloaking the early morning sun as Drake stirred yet again. Unable to sleep, he stared up at the ceiling with an expression just as blank as the constant white stare above him. The fading darkness brought no ease to his mind. He rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head. He left just enough of his nose out to inhale fresh air.
Peace in the Parker/West household was more jarring than war. When they fought, Drake usually knew what to expect. But, since Jade had saved his life, she had been sweet as pie and just as dangerous. Drake had kept the peace without question, happy to just be relieved of battle, until a haunting conversation returned to his mind.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
"Because you deserve it."
If he deserved to be hated, why was she suddenly completely copasetic with living with him? Why now, after all of this time? Drake highly doubted the robber had scared sense into her. Jade wasn't that kind of girl. Jade was the kind who would shoot back when shot at, as Drake had so very clearly seen the other night. So, why was she so calm and collected after being nothing but a raging hurricane of hatred?
Drake had to know.
He decided to give up any vain attempts at sleep and rolled out of bed. His bare feet hit the clothes he wore the previous day before they hit the floor. He gathered those clothes in his arm and went to take a shower.
Drake's hair stuck up in all directions as he walked through his house. He tried to press it down with his hands, but gave up easily. Once it was drenched, it would be fine.
The shout of protest from the bathroom woke him right up. He shut the door as quickly as he had opened it. "Sorry!"
A moment later, Jade opened the door a crack. Her hair hung drenched and dripping over her naked shoulders as she wrapped herself in a towel. She offered a smile. "Don't worry about it."
"Um. Go finish your shower." Drake mumbled, looking anywhere but at Jade. "Sorry. So, so sorry."
"I'm about done anyway." Her voice was silky and soft. She nearly purred. "I'll get dressed in my room. Go ahead." She gathered her things and walked away.
Drake could have sworn he saw that saccharine grin turn dark as she put her back to him.
He locked the door behind him, and then checked twice to make sure the lock was working. Steamy, hot water hit his skin, but he still shivered. Things were not right.
Jade wasn't Jade. She was too nice. She had given up time in the bathroom without a second thought. She had brought home food the other day. She had even vacuumed the place, something she hated doing. What was going on?
As Drake lathered shampoo into his hair, he had to wonder if this was anything similar to the time Megan had tortured him and Josh by getting them back without getting them back. The wait for revenge had nearly destroyed their sanity for a time. Drake shuddered, thinking of what could happen if Megan and Jade ever met. He vowed to keep them apart.
This couldn't be like that, though. He hadn't done anything to anger her. Nothing he knew of anyway, he thought grimly to himself.
"Because you deserve it."
Her words wouldn't leave him alone. What did he do? What had he done? He hadn't even met her until she moved in, so unless she had a personal vendetta against musicians, he was at a loss as to an explanation.
Drake realized he had been scrubbing his hair for too long. The lather had grown thick and sticky. He doused his hair, washing away the soap. It swirled on the shower floor, covering the drain before it finally slipped down it.
"I don't understand." He said out loud. "What did I ever do to you?"
X
The set was still quiet when Jade arrived at eight o'clock in the morning. She pulled her black Chevy Colorado into a vacant spot before pocketing the keys. She flashed her ID at the gatekeeper, and was allowed inside, where her agent was already waiting.
"Jade!" she greeted her. "Good morning. I brought you a coffee."
Jade wrapped her hands around the hot cup. "What are you doing here?"
"Celebrating!" Angela answered. "The lead dropped out today, and they want you to take over."
"Seriously?!" Jade couldn't contain her excitement. She had already been thrilled to work on this short film. She couldn't believe she had gotten the lead! "I'm not Mandy anymore? I'm Rain?"
"Actually, you're both." Angela corrected her. "They wrote in a twist where Mandy is Rain's ghost."
"I play my own ghost?" Jade grinned. "This is fantastic!"
"They need you the whole week now, including the weekend. Is that something you can do?"
"Absolutely!" Beck had been planning on coming down to see her, but Jade knew he would understand. She hadn't worked in too long. A chance like this was something she couldn't pass up. "I'm here twenty four seven if they need me."
Angela laughed. "They might. Go to makeup. Go get ready!"
X
Drake came home to a message on the machine saying Jade wouldn't be home for a few days. Apparently, she was working on a short film, and since the schedule was so tight, they had set up rooms for the cast and crew to eliminate travel time. Drake wondered why she didn't just send him a text, until he realized she hadn't even bothered to contact him herself. Her agent, Angela, had left the message.
"All right, then." Drake felt himself relax. He cast a glance at Shark. "Guess I'll be feeding you dinner tonight. Burgers sound good?" He chuckled as the dog's ears perked up. "Okay. You got it, bud."
Shark was a lot nicer when Jade wasn't around. He couldn't feed off Jade's hatred if she was nowhere nearby. Drake had been watching a movie on the couch one night, when the German Shepard had decided to approach him. Drake's nerves gave way to pleasant delight when the dog did not attack him as he expected, but instead, curled up at his feet. He even let Drake scratch him behind the ears. Jade had been out with a friend, or seeing a cat, or something, and the dog had taken the time to make Drake his friend.
His phone buzzed. Drake swiped the screen, opening the text message. Ah, there is was. Jade let him know she'd be MIA for a bit while she worked on a short film.
Thanks. Got your agent's message. He texted back.
K. Later.
Drake rummaged through the freezer. He had a few frozen burgers in there, and some trimmings in the fridge. Maybe he wouldn't have to get take out tonight. He just might be able to cook a meal on his own for once, something that wasn't pasta or a sandwich, or nachos, though he was pretty good at them.
He took out three patties, one for Shark and two for himself. He had them going in no time. Dinner came together easily. He melted cheese on his burgers and toasted the buns, finishing it off with the usual works. Lettuce, tomato, bacon, pickle slices, onion, ketchup, and a dash of barbecue sauce, his favorite. Shark stared up at him, begging with hungry eyes. Drake put cheese on a lone patty, and fed it to the dog once it had cooled enough. "There you go, good boy."
Shark licked his hand as a thank you. He took his dinner to a corner of the room to enjoy it.
Drake's filled his mouth with such flavor. He could hardly believe he had concocted this creation. It was delicious. The burger was cooked just right. The lettuce was crisp, the tomato juicy. The bacon blended with the cheese in a tasty symphony of perfection, joining with the pickle to create the perfect combination of flavor. He ate slowly, savoring every single bite.
It wasn't long after he finished eating that he realized his opportunity. He had a chance, now, one that was ripe and ready for the picking. Drake wasn't about to let it slip by untouched. He finished his beer, the glass bottle landing back in place on the table with a small clatter. He had decided, and he wasn't going to turn back, no matter what lay before him.
He stood up, ready to face whatever may come his way.
X
Drake really wished he hadn't gone in there.
He had barely crossed the threshold when the room began to swallow him. The door shut behind him as if of its own accord. He just knew he had slipped into the jaws of some colossal, dark monster ready and waiting to eat him alive. He could almost feel the heat of its breath upon his neck. He glanced behind him, but of course, nothing was there.
The vibrant purple carpet was a stark contrast to the black walls. Hanging on each were various posters and photographs, some of movies, some of friends, and some of things Drake couldn't guess if he tried. A skeleton stood, propped in the corner, its skull grinning at him through a slack jaw. Scissors sealed in a glass case sat on the nightstand by the bed. Many more pairs resided around the room. A few hung open from the midnight black ceiling, suspended by fishing wire. The room's only sources of light stemmed from the window, and three little lamps. One rested on a bookshelf, one on the nightstand, and one on a desk that also housed her silver laptop.
Black and red candles of various girths sat on shelves, the desk, and windowsills. Scented candles of unexpectedly bright colors gathered in a corner. Old plays and playbills were stacked in another corner on the floor. DVDs piled up on a shelf. Jade's own guitar waited quietly in a corner all its own. A dark, wooden trunk sat by the foot of the bed. It was new; Drake remembered her bringing it in the last time Beck had visited. It had been a birthday gift from the college mechanic.
Saying the room was 'creepy' would be similar to saying 'an apple is enough food after two weeks of starvation.' It didn't even begin to cover it. The items alone didn't bother Drake. It was the atmosphere the room carried, the essence of Jade and something much more evil, sitting in there, waiting to take him. He could feel it. The cold fingers traipsed up and down his spine, leaving a chill in his bones. His skin crawled as an unsettled feeling buried into it. His breathing seemed too quick, too loud. Too obvious.
Drake scrambled for the light switch, fumbling with it before light flooded from the main light on the ceiling. The glow helped cleanse some of the darkness away, making Drake feel minutely better.
Drake didn't want to wait any longer than he had to before leaving. He was in here for one reason and one reason alone: He wanted clues. Something in here would have to tell him either Jade's reason for hating him, or Jade's reason for the sudden sweetness. He knew he had to hide his visit here. If he touched anything, she would know. He checked for hidden cameras, and saw nothing, but that didn't reassure him. Drake determined to move quickly, then leave and never look back. He was convinced the photo of Jade and Beck on the nightstand was watching him.
He began to look around.
Books begging to be read lay open on top of the bookshelf. Drake scanned the pages, looking for key words like 'spells,' 'witchcraft,' or 'curse,' but they were merely books on acting and directing. Drake breathed a little easier after finding the books in the shelf were much of the same. There were a lot more novels than film making books, but all seemed relatively harmless. Her Stephen King collection was enormous. She had to have all of his books, or at least close to it. He spotted a few more by authors he had never heard of, and another large collection of Frank Peretti books. Judging by the covers, she had a very specific taste. A row down, he spotted two or three novelizations based on the show Supernatural. He smiled when he saw she had the novelizations of the Indiana Jones movies as well.
He wished she had a journal. That would make this quest so much easier. But, it was doomed to fail. Jade kept her room neat, not perfect, but neat, and any incriminating evidence would be buried somewhere he couldn't find it. Drake spent another twenty minutes examining everything and anything that lead him to believe it could be a hint, a clue, proof, anything. Her shelves did not contain a mini voodoo doll of him. Her notes on her desk did not hold any recipes for curses or potions. There was no vial of poison hidden among her perfume bottles. He did find an empty bottle of purple hair die in her waste basket, and fearfully reached up to his own hair to make sure it was still the right color. The bit he could see was, thank God.
Drake opened a drawer only to find more sets of scissors. Another held her jewelry. The third had pens, pencils, and a calculator filling it. The closet only held her endlessly black wardrobe.
"You know what matches black? Black. Why waste time with all those other colors?" Jade had answered Drake the one time he dared question why she never wore anything else. Now, he could see she did truly live by that philosophy. Yards of black fabric filled the small closet. Sometimes there would be other things, like a purple shirt here, a camouflage vest there, but the overwhelming amount of black was enough to turn the closet into the dead of night.
Drake shut the door again and moved on.
He found a list of things she hated by the window. Not surprisingly, his name was on it, along with October, which surprised him, ducks, the word 'panties,' girls who wear tiny bikinis to the beach, light, and countless other things. He thought nothing much of it, until he saw that she had begun it in high school, long before they had met.
His name on that list became very, very interesting.
He snapped a photo with his phone. He'd have to think on that later. It raised more questions. Had she hated him when he was famous? Had she met him before and he had forgotten? She wasn't one of the girls he dated and then never called again, was she? No, Drake knew he would have remembered her. She wasn't exactly forgettable.
Drake swept over the room again. His itch to exit forgotten, he carefully combed through everything he could without leaving a trace of his presence. He finally came to the tiny silver frame perched almost out of sight. It was on the nightstand as well, tucked behind the scissors and the photograph of Jade and her boyfriend so it would only be visible from just the right angle. He took a quick photo of the telling framed picture. Drake couldn't believe he hadn't seen the resemblance until now. The girls could have been sisters.
…Or cousins.