Jasper is actually deep. Somehow he and Em get along well. Unfortunately, Jazz is a rather depressed drunk. So while Emmett is gyrating to popular seventies disco anthems, Jasper seeks solace in the bottom of his glass ...

A shout-out to all the Twilight fan-girls and anyone who was at the Irish premier. WE LED THE CHEERS!! WHOOP!

Can Vampires Get Drunk?

Jasper (Otherwise known as Jazz, or Jasper "Jazz-hands" Hale)

One of the many great things about my brother Emmett is the fact that three never existed a creature that lived more for the moment than this simple monkey-man.

When I swayed down the staircase, half-way to insanity, clutching my poison, it didn't take more than twenty words to convince him to join me.

But for my part, the whole thing began a long time ago, in a different world. A different time.

You know what's great? Dancing.

I met the first love of my life at the school social when I was seventeen. Her name was Margaret; she was red-headed and divine. Three years later, she was married to my former English teacher, and I was pushing immortality with some dead chicks.

Sometimes that makes me want to cry. Then I try, and I can't. I can't cry.

Tears are weak. I was always taught such, and I was never to be weak. I was to be tough. A man. Tears were womanish, and I was no woman. I was a soldier. That was what I was born to be.

But what sort of a man can't cry?

Do you know how sad that is? Do you? Maybe you think you do.

Maybe you really do.

Maybe you're crying too, Emmett. Maybe there was someone for you before there was Rose. But when a man can't even manage to cry real tears for the love of his life … you asked me why I took the vodka. I didn't tell you, then.

Well, I'm telling you now, Emmett. And I want to confess … I can't take it any more. God help me, if you're there. God save me. I don't know if I even have a soul, but if I ever did have one, then it's falling apart now.

I'm drowning in a sea, here, Em. I can't go back. I can't move on … this is limbo, Em.

This is hell.

oOo

'TOTAL EEEECLIPSE OF THE HEAAAAAAAAAART … yeah.'

Two verses in and the entire club was in love with me. I knew it. Hey, I could feel it. That's how I roll.

Em was swaying in the front row of the karaoke bar, a grin stretching across his face, and he was giggling in a manner that was not far off grizzling. One bottle in, and he was under. Lightweight.

Suddenly, the club's joy dissolved, and I felt old. I felt far too sober to be singing in a karaoke bar with my hardly adult vampire brother, and it sickened me. I chugged some more of the human poison they call vodka, and felt calmer, but slightly blurry. I felt warm, as warm as I had as a human. I wondered briefly if this was a side-effect of my rational embarrassment at finding myself on a stage in front of a lot of drunken humans and apparently missing my shirt. I chugged another gulp, and promptly forgot.

I stumbled off the stage, wondering why I didn't feel as happy as Emmett obviously did, as he bounded onstage in my stead, and began belting a stirring rendition of YMCA. I grinned anyway, as a hoard of rabid fan-girls clamoured around me. But something was off.

Was I corrupting Emmett?

No, Jasper. Don't be silly. That boy's just about as corrupted as a Catholic school-girl with internet access.

But he seemed young, to my eyes … was I projecting? Was I using Emmett as a canvas to represent my own feelings of anger towards the world that had robbed me of my youth and life in one fell swoop? Did Emmett just suddenly remind me of a younger self, laughing idiotically, and grinning, unaware that the coming millennia could bring nothing other than pain, pain, doubt and a longing for death?

Was I psychoanalyzing myself?

I didn't want to know.

I ripped the cap off the next bottle of spirits. I had finally found an escape. And I wasn't about to start doubting it.

oOo

Alice could see right through me. I knew she would be able to … she always has been.

I love Alice. I love her with whatever heart I have left. She is everything to me; the sun my errant moon orbits. She is everything I'm not, and she loved me too.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

Neither did she.

'Jasper,' she whispered to me, as we sat together on the roof a year ago. She likes it up there. She says she can sometimes remember what it feels like to be warm in the direct sunlight. She's beautiful, the sunlight shimmering on her diamond skin, and glinting in her dark hair.

I didn't look at her. She's beautiful, inside and out. I'm dark and empty.

'Jasper?'

If Alice could cry, I knew she would be doing so. She's so insistent that we can work this out; that she can make things better. She knows something's wrong with me before I know it myself.

Her voice cracks, as she reaches out to grasp my hand in her slim pale one. I stare at it, the utter perfection in something so small and functional. My own in scarred and has committed atrocities, and taken too many lives. I can feel blood run over it; warm, rich, dark and laden with guilt. I am sickened by myself.

'Alice.'

Saying her name gives me comfort. I love her too much to feel so helpless.

'I'm here, Jasper,' she whispers to me, and squeezes my hand tightly.

'I'm always be here.'

Alice.

I love her.

xXx

Signing in as: Wraithlike
It's short, and to the point. Eh ... well, it doesn't have a point, but ... mnagh, more Emmett action straight from the Courtz-miester next time. But she's unfortunately sick (POOR U!!!) so you're stuck with sentinmental old Jasper. Never mind.

Coming Soon: BouncesLikeJaboc's good old retribution on our cheerful drunkards. And soon, perhaps ... *le gasp* WHO IS THAT BEAUTIFUL BRONZE-HAIRED BOY?