POV #4

Jeff Hardy is not my problem.

Before I continue with this..."talk"...I think it's only fair that I make one thing known. I am not the lead guitarist/second vocalist of the band Fozzy. That would be Matt Hardy, and I assure you, I am not Matt Hardy. I'm just the guy sharing an apartment with Matt's little brother, Jeff.

It's been two years now, by the way.

I digress.

Jeff has a problem. A drug problem. It started before I agreed to room with him, and it's been getting worse with each passing day. Before, I could tell when Jeff was high. I mean he just fit the bill in that respect. Now? Now...

I can't tell the difference anymore.

I'm sure the other guys who've had this..."talk"...have probably said a lot about their lives and the lives of their loved ones, but that's not what I'm going to do. What I'm going to do is talk about Jeff Hardy. And in the best way, I'll try and include Matt. Yeah. I'll try real hard.

The time Jeff asked me to move in with him and share the rent was around the same time that he and Matt were on some sort of rocky path. I never pry, right, so I didn't ask him the obvious questions like:

"Why do you leave so early only to come back so late, and look even more fucked up than you did when you left?"

Or...

"Why are you always crying at the door when I open it to let you in?"

Or...

"Why do you stink of sex?"

I never asked him any of those questions because quite frankly I'm a smart guy. And smart guys always have the answer to those kind of questions. And my answer was Matt Hardy.

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate Matt for what he's apparently doing to his brother, but at the same time, I don't like it. I can't like it.

But listen to this:

I don't even know it is.

Funny huh? Well, there's my reason for not butting into Jeff's life. I turned a blind eye to his drug problems, and over time I've turned a blind eye to his questionable visits to his brother every weekend for the past two years. However, soon I got a little bit curious over the one question I couldn't conjure up an answer to. And that was:

"Hey Jeff." He looks at me - with a polite smile on his face - from over the rise of sofa. It's a crappy hand-me-down, but it's a sofa nonetheless. "Why don't you live with Matt?"

His smile drops, and he turns back to the even crappier TV. "Why does it matter?"

I kind of see that attitude coming. Jeff doesn't like questions, yet he always has them to ask. "Well," I start with my attention focused on the chopping of the carrots "rent here is expensive right? I mean that's why you needed a roommate to split the bill. So," I throw the chopped orange vegetable into the pot of boiling water "all I'm wondering is why don't just save yourself the cash and go live with him. Or at least you shouldn't be working seeing that he's this big rock star and all."

Jeff scoffs loudly before bringing his eyes to me. "What makes you think he'd want me around him?" No answer. More questions. That's the style of Jeff Hardy.

I sigh heavily while placing the metal lid onto the pot to seal in the heat. "Forget it man. It's none of my business."

That was the second time in two years that I had asked Jeff that question, and that is the one time he gave me something of an answer. I never had siblings, right, so I don't know how sibling love works, therefore I can't even say anything about Jeff's "answer". However, deep down I knew something was wrong.

I was wrong.

I was wrong to believe that Matt and Jeff had brotherly love, and Jeff's situation was all thanks to his daredevil lifestyle.

It wasn't.

It was all thanks to Matt not wanting Jeff around.

But...maybe I'm wrong about that too. Right?

A couple of weeks ago Jeff gets invited by Matt to join in on Fozzy's celebration party at a five star club. Jeff asks me to go with him - his reason being that he would feel out of place and such - and seeing that I had nothing else to do that Saturday, I agreed. We got there on time, and for the first time ever, I see what Matt Hardy looks like. On Google, they only had all the older pictures of when he was seventeen and green. Now he wasn't some young guppy. Right in front of me stood a man I could share a beer with (if I drank) and talk to about life - life that he'd actually understand.

In short, I respected Matt Hardy on that night.

He gave Jeff a long hug and was all smiles when he saw his younger brother. He asked him how he was doing. If he was eating right. Sleeping right. Was he off the drugs? Okay. Well at least you don't take them every day like you used to, was what he said when Jeff answered no. Speaking of Jeff, did I mention that he was smiling and blushing beyond belief the whole time? No. Well, he was. I wrote it off - the blushing part - as being the light striking his red hair that had a few strands neatly hanging over his face.

The evening went on nicely. I met the rest of Fozzy. Chris Jericho seemed aloof and to himself. In the later parts of the night he was on his phone every second, and soon he was gone. Randy - the bassist - was flirting with everything in sight. Actually, everything in sight was flirting with him, and he just wasn't doing anything to stop it. I liked Randy. He seemed smart enough to hold a debate with me. John Cena...wow. For the entirety of the night, John was staring at Randy. Maybe he was a secret boyfriend to the bassist? I didn't ask. However, just when I was giving that a second thought, I felt a pair of daggers staring right into me. They were coming from a diagonal slate right behind me. They were coming from Adam Copeland - the pianist. I looked at him and he unflinchingly looked back. However, soon his eyes went over to his own left. And I followed them to land on Jeff and Matt.

There was a...how do I put it?...lovey-dovey feeling polluting the air that surrounded them. It was like they didn't even have to touch each other to portray that. Indeed they were just sitting side by side on the chair on the balcony and just talking. Yet, for some reason, myself - and Adam - knew otherwise.

I watched Jeff for...wow...probably over an hour now that I think about it, and then eventually realized something I had failed to realize in the many months I spent living under the same roof with him. I never saw Jeff smile like that before. Hell...I've never seen Jeff Hardy so...

Happy.

I turned away and focused on other things. The club music. The bartender's skillful work. The chatter around. The dancing. Anything. However, in under five minutes, my eyes were back on Jeff. And this time, they just wouldn't stop staring.

Needless to say, the party ended in the waking hours of the morning. Adam offered Matt a ride home since the brunette was drunk, but Jeff politely declined it and told him that he'd take Matt home. Was that fire coming out of Copeland's eyes? I guessed so. Anyways, Adam informed Jeff that he too was under the influence, so I did a stupid thing. I intervened. And so I ended up taking Jeff and Matt "home".

The entire ride was uncomfortable. Matt was hopelessly clinging to Jeff and Jeff was just smiling away while gently running his fingers through Matt's long curly hair. He looked at peace and in content. I looked away before he caught me staring. We had arrived at the house. Jeff and I got the sloppy drunk out of the car and I held him upright while Jeff opened the door. How sad is it that I felt a cringe in my stomach when Jeff effortlessly punched in the codes to both neutralize the alarms and open the front door?

Yeah. That's what I thought.

Anyways, let me cut to the chase. After laying Matt onto his bed, Jeff handed me a few dollars out of his wallet, smiled politely and told me that he'd call me a cab. I left...without Jeff Hardy.

Two days passed. Maybe three. Who knows? Jeff came back and he was crying his eyes out...again. I realized how pathetic it was. Not the crying. Rather, the fact that I waited in the apartment for three days straight all in hopes that Jeff would return yet again without his keys. He did. And for the first time I was happy about it.

Back to the issue. Jeff was crying his eyes out. I gathered his limp body - that stunk of sweat, salt, dirt, drugs, and yes...sex -and placed it lightly on our crappy sofa.

Our?

Sorry. I meant "the".

The crappy sofa.

Whatever.

I got him some chicken soup - the light kind; his favourite - and basically spoon fed him until he was able to sit up on his own and feed himself. His red hair - red when I last saw him - was now a light pink. The effects of cheap dye. A couple of disobedient strands hung over his face, and instinctively, I brushed them back behind his ear. I reacted badly to my own movement by yanking my hand back down so hard I figured I must have pulled something. Jeff didn't even notice it. He just kept sipping away. After what seemed like an eternity, I decided to ask him the obvious question:

"Where were you Jeff?"

He looks over at me before staring into his barely finished bowl of soup. "Nowhere."

I sigh heavily. At this point, I know I'd probably say "forget it. It's none of my business", but for some reason, I don't want to. "You were at Matt's."

His shoulders slump. His voice downs to a painful whisper. "I don't wanna talk about it."

I do. But...I won't. So instead, I reach for the short blanket and hang it lightly over his shoulders. "Eat up. Your soup's getting cold."

Damn it.

I thought this story wasn't going to be so long. I honestly thought that I would best everyone else and give a mere synopsis rather than a flipping autobiography. Whatever. I guess it's better this way. I guess no one would understand what happened last night if I didn't go out and give a history lesson.

Last night, Matt Hardy came to the apartment.

He was mad with Jeff. I tried to tell him that Jeff was in no mood to talk, but apparently, Jeff was in the mood. Just not in the mood to talk to me. I expected Jeff to tell me to get out. Give he and his brother some time alone. However, he didn't. And neither did Matt. Instead they both started talking. Or something like that:

"What the hell Jeff? Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Matt roared. I watched the spectacle from the comfort of the sofa.

"I'm sorry Matt. I just thought..."

"Thought what?" Matt all but screams at his brother. I felt like stepping in and telling him to lay off, but then I notice that Matt's crying. What the hell happened? "Thought that I'd think less of you if you didn't tell me? Thought that I would hate you?"

Jeff hangs his head. "Matt, I just couldn't" His voice low. "I didn't want you to find out the truth."

"Why not?"

"Because..." His voice breaks a bit. He raises his head to show us all that he's now in tears. "Because I knew that you'd never want me again! I knew that!"

"So you lied to me?" Matt's voice downs to something vicious. Betrayed even. "You led me on this whole time, and made me believe that it was all my fault when...when it wasn't?"

"Matt" Jeff reached forward. His brother moved back with that look of disbelief and hurt etched onto his face. "Matty listen...I'm so sorry!" His voice fades in and out beneath the blanket of tears and sobs. I feel like hugging him to ward off the pain. But the look in his eyes tell me that right now, he'd rather bear it alone. "I'm so sorry. I love-"

"Don't!" Matt shouts again. A frown is on his face now. "Don't say that!"

Jeff clings visibly to the word before letting it out in a loud breath. "Matt-"

"Stop calling my name!" He shouts again while taking a few steps back. "Don't..." He looks to the ground beside him before looking back up angrily at Jeff. "Don't you dare call my name again." His face tenses but those tears keep falling down. "You don't deserve it anymore."

All I can think of right now is how hard those words have hit Jeff. When I look to him, I know the truth.

They've hit him hard.

Matt turns violently on his heels and heads to the door. He opens it and looks a bit over his shoulder. He looks caught between speaking and leaving, but soon, he turns away and leaves.

We haven't see Matt since then.

Two months have passed by and Fozzy apparently is being holed up in their recording studio. They have been for some time now. Recent news state that it's because they are working on something big. Something that will propel them past the top into a zone now other music idol has ever reached before.

Anyways, thanks to the news, Jeff now knows where to find his brother. For two months he's been rattling his brain for ways to speak to Matt and apologize for whatever they were arguing about - yeah, I still don't know because I refuse to ask - but every time he's come up cold turkey. Being the good roommate, I offer my services to make the process somewhat easier...but deep down, I'd much rather Jeff forget about Matt. But like I said -

I wouldn't know anything about sibling love - aside from the fact that it seems to resemble the vivid patterns of insanity.

Friday comes along, and Jeff sits down and writes a three page letter to Matt. I leave him alone, and give him space to think. Yeah. I am curious as to what that letter says, but I convince myself not to read it.

I was never any good at convincing.

Jeff decides to take a day off tomorrow and go see Matt - to hand him the letter and bury the hatchet. The night before that, I spot the letter on our hand-me-down dining table. And of course, I read it:

"Dear Matt.

I don't know where to start expect at I'm sorry. That's not enough - I know - but I think you'll understand everything better if I just tell you the story from the beginning.

I have always been in love with you...outside of brotherly love."

I stop for a second. Gather my conscience. And keep reading.

"Yeah. Disgusting I know. Anyways, I was in love with you Matt. You were always there for me, and you'd always protect me and keep me safe. I could always turn to you when the going got tough - and it did - and you'd never turn away. You'd just be there with open arms and a warm smile, and the truth is...I've never felt more at home.

Years passed Matt, and I grew more affectionate. I grew more in love with you. And then, I decided one day to make you mine. To keep you with me so that you would never go away. I think it happened the day I saw you with Lita. I knew that if I didn't do something quick, then you'd be gone and be in love with someone else. You'd protect someone else, and you'd smile like that with someone else. I didn't want that, so I got desperate.

What Adam told you was true. You never took my virginity, it was gone before the twelfth grade. Let's just leave the story behind it at mistake. And to Adam's credit, I did lie about taking those drugs to forget the night you took me by force. You did...but, I planned the whole thing. I did drug you Matt, and I pushed you over the edge to force your hand to hurt me. I wanted to do it because I knew once you had that on your conscience you would never leave me. You could never leave me.

At first the plan worked. I had you just like I wanted. But, somewhere along the way I got greedy. I was filled with a sense of superiority that had me thinking I owned you. Thinking that I could make or break you. Maybe I was right, but who cares? The fact is I kept leading you on, promising a life together, and making you fall in love while making you simultaneously hate the fact that you were. I took pleasure in breaking you Matt. I took pleasure using you and that planned mistake as an excuse for my drug addiction and my "fear".

It hurts to write this Matt, but the truth hurts right. I'm sorry Matt. I don't know...actually, I know you can't ever forgive me for the years of torment I put you through, and for the false guilt that I placed on your head. But, I can at least hope that as those years distance themselves in your mind, so will your rightful hatred of me. And then, maybe you can forgive me. You don't have to ever say it to my face. I don't deserve that. But, I hope that for your sake, that you can just forget about me and what I did to you. And then you can maybe forgive the guy named Jeff.

Anyways, this letter is the last time you'll hear from me. This is it Matt. I promise to live a clean life. I promise to never again wear the Hardy name with pride. Not until you've forgotten about me. But, as for right now, I just thought I'd say I'm sorry, and I hope you know that I understand that this will never make the pain go away. That I know that sorry will never be enough. But sadly, I don't know anything else.

So Matt, I'm sorry.

Have a wonderful life.

Sincerely,

Jeff. "

It's Saturday. I had work, but...I just can't bring myself to let Jeff go out and do this alone. He's asking Matt to forget about him. To live a life where he must believe that he's never had a younger brother. It's commendable, but for his sake, I hope Matt never sees it like that.

We wait outside of Fozzy's studio until night fall. Eventually people start filing out. The entire group - minus its lead singer - appears in the front lot. I look to Jeff and he's doing what I thought he'd be doing. He's shaking like a leaf. I stare the letter - enveloped now and sealed - and feel a sense of regret creep up when I think about having read it. It was something personal, I just had to pry.

I just had to know what the answers to the obvious questions were. And now I did.

Matt eventually shows up. Jeff retreats into the shadow behind us, and I follow suit. We can still see them, but it doesn't work both ways. Matt stops for a second and looks around. The idea that he caught us crosses my mind, and it becomes frighteningly closer to reality when his eyes land on the corner we're standing in. He then smiles and I can feel Jeff's heart sink when we notice the reason behind it.

Adam appears in our line of sight and straps an arm around Matt's waist. He playfully buries his face in the side of Matt's neck and Matt let's out a small laugh. I glance over to Jeff. The letter he had clutched to his chest is now hanging lifelessly to his side. His eyes aren't on Matt anymore. They're on the ground. I reach out to say something when a face pops up in front of us.

"Hey Jeff!" It's Cena. "What are you doing here in the dark?"

Jeff looks at him bewildered and frantically looks over to Matt. I hear a sigh of relief escape when he realizes that the brunette and blonde are simply getting into the car, oblivious. He smiles weakly at John. "Uh...nothing, I just..."

"Did you come to see Matt?" Damn Cena for his mind-reading abilities. He turns to the direction of the still there older Hardy. "Hey! Ma-"

"No!" Jeff shouts to stop Cena. John looks at him confused before dropping a glance to the envelope stuck in Jeff's hand. When his blue eyes come back to Jeff's face, a sense of sad realization is stuck in them.

"Jeff, is there something wrong?"

Jeff shakes his head. "No...just don't worry about it." I've heard that voice before. And it still hurts to hear it.

"Do you want to deliver that?" John asks almost too seriously.

Jeff looks at the letter in his hand and so do I. Part of me wants Matt to see that letter, and heed to it's underlining instructions. However, another part of me knows that despite having no knowledge of how sibling love works...it would be the end of Jeff Hardy should his brother erase his existence from memory.

Jeff goes to reply, but I intervene. Maybe it's because I sensed that Jeff was going to say something close to yes. And maybe, on top of that, I knew he'd come to regret it. "No." I smile a bit to Jeff and then John. "Don't worry about it Cena. He'll drop it off in the mail later on."

Jeff stares at me a bit surprised. John shrugs and believes my answer.

"Okay." He states plainly. "See you around Jeff."

Jeff nods. Cena leaves.

I let out a long breath before looking at the empty lot ahead. For some reason my eyes won't go to Jeff. Maybe he was mad? Maybe my answer gave way to the truth about me having read his letter? Either way, I am not going to chance looking lest my looking be the reason he finds out an even bigger truth.

The one about me falling in love with him.

A slight night breeze passes over us and lingers awhile before going away.

"I'm cold." Jeff states from my right. I look at him - his eyes are on the ground - and hand him my jacket in one go.

"Here." He looks up at me, and I offer a smile. "It'll keep you warm." I sigh when he replies with nothing and rake back my hair in an attempt to hide my nervousness. Sibling love is confusing, but it pales in comparison to what I'm feeling now. "Well then." I state for no reason before turning to face him. "Let's go home."

His eyes widen a bit. I can't tell what that means, and then he turns away only to speed walk ahead of me. The act confuses me a bit, but I smile it off. I can still see him clutching that letter, but I know it's only a matter of time before he let's it go.

Maybe he might deliver it to Matt. Maybe he'll just tear it up and throw it away in a passing breeze.

Either way really is none of business, but the fact that I'm even thinking about it tells me one thing.

Jeff Hardy is now my problem. And it's all because I want him to be.