"Are you two lovebirds here yet?" Ryan sighed over the phone to Chip.

"What? I mean—yeah, we just got here. Shut up!"

"Why am I accepting this easier than you are?"

The question actually took him aback. "I…"

"Oh don't ask him about his love life, for kitten's sake," he heard unmistakably from Greg.

"Anyways, we're at this little bar, so meet us there."

Chip hung up the phone and returned to Jeff, who he seems to have lost. "Where the…" Just then someone came up behind him and grabbed his ass, causing him to start. "Jesus Christ, you're like a child," Chip grinned. Jeff childishly smiled back, wrapping an arm around his waist. "So, where are we going?"

"To a bar," he replied, not as enthralled as his friend was. "Awesome, let's go then!" Jeff led them both out to their rental car, a blacked out Audi. "Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about," he exclaimed at the sight of their new ride. "Not overboard at all," Chip remarked sarcastically. "Oh just be quiet and enjoy it," Jeff said, giving him a smack on the ass as he got into the passenger seat.

The ride there was short, but unusually quiet. Both one of them had anything to say, and the sound of the radio was the only thing they heard. There was more distance between them, Chip noticed, because even though they were in separate seats he never strayed that far from him.

"Here." Jeff turned off the engine and got out of the car, not waiting for him to catch up. Chip's heart sank a little, but he tried his best to ignore it. He followed him inside and found where the other two guys were sitting. "Can I get a Jack Daniels please?" Jeff asked the bartender, who eagerly began to pour it. Everyone else ordered their drink, except for Chip, and they all noticed.

"Not drinking?" Ryan asked, a touch of surprise in his voice. "No, not tonight. Actually, I'm not feeling too good; I might just head over to the hotel." Everyone just shrugged, even Jeff. He hid his face behind his glass and conversed with the bartender, making her laugh and smile just like Chip used to around him. He pushed aside his anger and focused on getting home, as the guys now called it.

Chip felt shut down, ignoring his luggage in the backseat and dismissing the cheery front desk clerk as soon as he got his room key. He silently found the stairwell and trudged up them until he got to the 9th floor. After navigating around the hallways, he got to his room, going inside and immediately flopping down face-first on the bed.

He rolled over and got off, pacing from wall to wall. "What did I do wrong?" His fists were clenched, shaking, and tense. "I just don't know how to fucking do this!" he exclaimed, throwing the nearby fake potted plant across the room. It made a loud crash and shattered, making a huge mess, and Chip realized that he felt just a little better. Angry, but better; he liked this.

"I just can't," he yelled, and laid a sharp right hook hard into the wall, causing him to cry out in pain. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuuuck." He looked at his hand, already swelling up and turning blue. He shifted his gaze to the wall, a dent where he'd been. He touched his knuckles and inhaled sharply, more pain searing through him. "I can't do this anymore," he whimpered, anger turning into depression.

Depression. He hadn't been depressed in the longest time; it was hard when you were constantly surrounded by comedy. But now… it was a familiar feeling settling in his mind, his chest tightening up and his eyes getting teary. "No," he choked. "No, this can't be happening to me. This isn't happening!" He spun around and put deeper dent in the wall using the same hand. "OW, FUCK!" Chip dropped to the floor and tried to stop the sobs from rising in his throat, tried to stop the tears falling from his face. But neither would.

He lay down on the carpet, attempting to stop his crying. His hand was probably broken and he didn't care. "I don't care about anything anymore. Not Jeff, not my hand… nothing." Memories flooded back to show him moments when he was like this before. He remembered fighting with his wife Patty about his lifestyle and he got kicked out. And where did he go? "To Jeff," he whispered with a small chuckle. "It'll always be Jeff."

And he hated that.

Meanwhile at the bar, Jeff was kicking back Jack Daniels like it was his job. Well, it was in a way. "It's actually kind of weird not having Chip here," Greg commented. "You're not worried or anything?" Jeff shot him a curious look, raising his eyebrows. "I mean I guess it is… but I'm not worried. Should I be?" Ryan intervened. "He's a big kid now and can take care of himself. But what do I know; I can't say I've been in your position."

Jeff pondered it, alcohol telling him what to do. "Nah," he decided. "He'll be fine. Besides, he was being a tease earlier." Greg laughed and Ryan merely rolled his eyes. "Puppy love." The bartender returned with another drink, to the guys' surprise. "I didn't order anything, but I'll take it anyways." Jeff sipped on it while the woman explained. "You can thank the woman in the blue dress and blonde hair on the opposite side of the bar," she smiled, discreetly pointing her out. That flirtatious grin spread across his face and another part of his brain took over. "Well, then I should go over and thank her!"

"I'll be here for a while, in case you want to supply more," he said as he walked over to the woman. She laughed and put down her margarita. "Sorry, only gonna happen once. Kind of like some other things," she said with a wink. Jeff was thrown off guard, but knew how to play this game. "Is that so? Sounds like you'd indulge me in some other things, mystery lady."

"Call me Chantelle," she said, grabbing his hands. "And you're Jeff Davis." He couldn't stop a conceited smile from crossing his face. "I didn't know I would get recognized here." Chantelle stood up and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Why don't we take a walk over to my place?" she purred in his ear. His instinct took over and paid no mind to Ryan or Greg as she led him out.

Chip finally stood up after lying on the floor for about 2 hours. He'd wiped away all tears, but his hand was still throbbing with pain. He glanced out the window, and saw Jeff out front, getting out of someone's car. It wasn't theirs, so whose was it? Then, a woman in a blue dress got out of the driver's seat, sauntering over to him and holding onto his hand.

They stopped under a light and looked at each other, exchanging some words. That didn't bother him so much as the lack of space between them did. He knew Jeff possibly better than he did, and could tell when he was working someone. "He wouldn't," Chip said, trying to convince himself. "I'm not even sure I want to watch…" But as soon as he said those words, he and the woman were kissing. They started out innocently enough, soon evolving into the point where he could see their tongues sliding around each other's.

Chip felt even more shattered than before. He couldn't break his stare even as Jeff left and came inside, soon to find him in his trashed room. Words escaped him, he couldn't even think about what had just happened. He didn't want to; he just wanted to pretend he didn't see it. He didn't want to think about all of the things that they could have done while he was here alone.

Jeff didn't bother to stop by Chip's room.

Chip didn't bother to care.

Maybe this relationship wasn't all it cracked up to be.