Chapter two.

Disclaimer: Alcohol and abuse mention in Jeff's background (Base on Season 1, Episode Home Economics)

When Annie came in the doors of the study room that afternoon, he felt his face flushed and all his senses came running back but he didn't cancel off the engagement. Greendale is crazy. They are all crazy. They couldn't save a school from the school's very own board. He deserves a normal life with a good paying job, coming home to home cook dinners and complaining about working too much or idiot clients. He never wanted to get married, he never really considered it. Well, Annie brought it up twice, but it just made him so confused. How can they not see marriage for the lie it is? It's just a better version of friends with benefits and anniversaries and things in between.

Yes, he considered getting married with someone he loves, even so, how real can it be? He thought of her, but she is not right for him. She is too good for him. Too young and too smart for him. Hell, she's a valedictorian! That girl is going places. As mature, or immature she can be in a Greendale bag pack in pasty coloured cardigans and that school girl outfit, she has a whole life in front of her. She could still go to university, travel the world, meet new people that aren't assholes like him. He was not good for her, and he knows it.

Reaching for the bottle on his top shelf, and an empty glass by the kitchen table, he found himself pouring a glass of scotch as he slump onto his sofa. He chugging down the entire glass and slide his phone out of his back pocket of his jeans. Scrolled though his contacts as if he does it quite often and he found himself hovering over Annie's name….

"….Milord"

Throwing his phone a little to hastily, it landed on the ground instead of the sofa as he would intended but couldn't bother to pick it up. He paused for a moment staring at the glass at hand before his emotions came piling at him again. He filled the cup but immediately emptied it dry. His throat burning at the rapid escalation of alcohol consumption.

You saved the school, but why does it feel like you lost….

He poured another glass and swirled the contents in circles with right hand while the knuckles of the other pressed on his forehead as if he was experience a headache too excruciating to even think about anything. Eyes tight shut…. Her face came to find as he began chugging it down again. This was disruptive…. guilt drinking… emotional drinking. Somewhat like the "old Jeff". The Jeff before Greendale and the study group. The Jeff who was so emotionally upset at his father for leaving him when he was just a child. The father that would beat him bloody whenever he came home drunk because if he wants to be a man he had to withstand pain. "Thats what man do, they endure pain. Are you a wuss son?"

He was not that man before, Jeff tried to remind him but the rage he had within himself is telling him otherwise. Her face replaced the image of his father, those disney eyes shone with sadness and sincerity in her tone when she spoke.

"…We have to respect each other…."

He poured and swallowed.

"….enough to let each other want what we want…"

Then another. and another and another. Her voice echoing in his head. It's not even that big of a deal. right? She can't be angry at him for their haste of a decision? He was Jeff Winger, he does stupid things, and everyone was relieved weren't they? Except her… He was staring at her, even when she doesn't know. Wouldn't she be happy he wasn't going to marry Britta?

"… no matter how transparently self-destructive…"

He grabs the scotch by the bottle and took a long swig. Swallowing rapidly as it burns down his throat like an arsonist trying to set his lungs on fire. He spat out coughing, although angered that the stopper of the bottle caused the liquid to flow too slowly, his head was already spinning as he nearly downed a third of the bottle in less than five minutes. He drops the bottle and it doesn't actually spill out… the tip did serve some purpose after all. But the bitterness was still in him. He picks up the glass which he settled on the table and throws it on the ground. It shattered all over the place, leaving pieces of shards all over his carpet and the floor.

"…..or empty our desires may be."

"He would be in tears considering how badly he screwed up but he was too egoistic to even consider it, even by himself. His childhood taught him that, emcrying is weak and you are not weak/em. A rhythmic knock on the door stirred his senses for a moment before the alcohol kicks at him again.

Annie?

"Jeffrey? You alright in there? I heard some… noises." Slight panic surge to his face, he could feel his face redding and his body swaying away as he almost fell back. He didn't even drink that much, honestly. It was only half a bottle and he was way better than that. As a successful attorney, his clients threw countless celebrations for the cases he won and it would last all night. Winger! Winger! Winger! They would chant as he downed countless glass of scotch and champagne and still be the most sober of the lot.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He coughed out, his voice hoarse. "Spring cleaning…. I'll see you tomorrow Craig." Did he say Craig? Why did he even… doesn't matter. He got to get this cleaned up. "Alright then…. Goodnight Jeffrey." The Dean called from behind the door as Jeff muttered his goodbyes. He could hear him hovering around the door for a minute before going back to his apartment. Technically there isn't school tomorrow as Greendale would still be transitioning back to whatever it was before and handling whatever legal arrangement there has to be settled. Fuck, I'll have to deal with that tomorrow.

Regardless, it seems Greendale would resume as a community college and he would return as a teacher again….. with his friends… with Annie. The thought of her make him ache… he couldn't remember what he was thinking of before as it slowly subsided. He felt nauseous and sick to the stomach, that's when he remembered that his breakfast from nearly half a day ago is not going to help digest any of the alcohol.

Looking at the mess, it was all he could do to leave the fragments and stains but it was an eyesore and Jeff was (secretly) not one to leave a mess that he caused behind. Strain his eyes painfully, he attempt to pick up the larger shards of glass at where he threw it. Carefully picking up the rim of the glass, he heard another series of knocks. His concentration yield when he was startled, causing him to jumped, but not before he accidentally dropped a large fragment on his right hand leaving a large slit on his palm with warm, red blood gushing out.

"Fuck!" He enunciated as a clear sign of annoyance and anger. He stood and saw the mess that was worse than before. Clearly discontented he strided towards the door sloppily leaving a trail of blood behind him. As he opened the door with his left hand in an awkward position, he repositioning himself with his body covering the wreckage of his apartment while trying to hide his wounded hand. Beads of blood was dripping from his palm to his fingers but he gave the most sober face he could muster and he groaned "Dean I told you, I'm fin…"

"I can see you're clearly… not."

"An… Annie?" he spat out, confused and baffled. He is not drunk enough to mistake someone for another. You have got to be fucking kidding me.

"May I come in?" she asked and he gaped at her…. it felt as if he would never see her again or face her after what happened today. "Yeah… yeah." He uttered, clearly forgetting the disarray behind him. Annie barely took a step in when she stop right on her heels at the blood line leading to the glass shard. It was a lot to take in. "Er… yeah I accidentally dropped the glass." He said defensively. For a highly persuasive lawyer, who relied on manipulative truths and making people believe him, for he made a very bad case here and he would be ashamed of himself. Annie stared at him with disbelief. The glass was obviously thrown with an accelerating amount of force. Maybe it's her criminology class or the obvious sense that the glass hit the wall, leaving a slight paint chip and some stain on the wall but she saw right through him. She seemed confused at what she should do first: clean the glass, the blood or the bleeding hand that Jeff doesn't seem to be doing anything about. He is clearly drunk.

"Come here…."