Chapter 8: Where Have All The Good Times Gone?

Author's Note: I come to you from a land full of words and Oreos. And coffee. And the occasional Smiths song, to put me in the right frame of mind. I don't have much to say this time. I'm just a woman with a story and a dream. Or some bullshit.

Disclaimer: The title is deliciously spoilery of what is to come beyond these fun, little notes. And a Kinks song. So pour a glass of wine and say cheers to Ray Davies. And angst.

There are a few phrases I borrowed from Gossip Girl, cause they were too perfect to leave out of this mash up (that's what I'm calling it, btw. Tell your friends). They're so good, I use them in my daily lexicon as often as possible. Sometimes, I just yell them. "It was all a game!" during dinner is a big hit. Try it.


Spotted: Jess Mariano back to his old ways.

Rory Gilmore watched from afar as Jess used the halls of Chilton as his own personal sexual playground.

She wasn't enjoying the show.

Paris came up behind her and frowned. "Jess' consistency is almost admirable."

"That's not the word I'd pick to describe his whoring ways."

"Do I sense jealousy in your voice, Gilmore? I thought you were over him."

"I was never into him."

"Right."

"I wasn't. He's a despicable human being."

"With really good hair."

"Whose side are you on, Gellar?"

"I'm on team honesty."

"Since when?"

"Since you fell in love with Jess."

"I'm not in love with Jess Mariano," Rory practically screamed.

Paris took a step back. "Then it won't bother you that in the past two days, he's fucked half the female population of Hartford."

"Nope."

"And that right now he has the poor man's excuse for Paris Hilton pinned against your locker."

"Well that does bother me. Because I'll have to pay someone to disinfect it."

"I have to hand it to you, Gilmore. You've rehearsed the 'Jess means nothing to me' speech quite well," Paris paused, leaning in, making her voice almost a whisper. "But everyone knows."

"Knows what?"

"About the real kind of cumming you did at your debutante ball."

"Excuse me?"

"Everyone knows you got drunk off champagne and fucked Jess. Multiple times according to some sources but I only believe about fifty percent of rumors so I'd say he got your v-card and departed."

"Who told you this?"

"Oh don't worry. I've been friends with you long enough to know to never believe a rumor without proof. Which is why phone's are so convenient," Paris paused, pulling out her phone, showing a picture of what appeared to be Rory, pinned against an elevator wall, with Jess' tongue occupying her mouth. "I never would've thought that the camera phone would be the death of Rory Gilmore. Damn technology, right?"

"I can't believe you're enjoying this."

"Being your minion for three years was…educational. But you're a complete bitch. You and Jess deserve each other."

"I'll destroy you."

"With what power? You've been dethroned. You're the Hartford Marie Antoinette."

"When I find out who did this, water boarding will seem preferable to what I do to them. And then I'll come after you."

Paris laughed, "I almost pity you, Gilmore. Wake up. This isn't some bad Audrey Hepburn movie. Your reign is over. But as your friend, let me give you some parting advice: get tested. I'd hate to see you go insane from syphilis."

Pairs turned to leave but then stopped. "Oh and headbands are so out. Take a break from fucking Mariano and read Harper's Bazaar."


Rory Gilmore was having what most clinical psychologists would call a panic attack.

Greta hadn't seen Rory like this since, well, E ruined her life and had sex with Logan. So this behavior could only be brought on by something like Hiroshima. Or the death of Alexander McQueen.

"Miss Rory, you have to stop pacing."

Rory attacked. "Greta! There is no time for activities like sitting. There are lives to ruin and you're just sitting there watching me."

"I'm afraid you're going to pass out. This is the most exercise you've gotten since…"

Going three rounds with Jess Mariano?

Greta continued, "…well, ever. You quit yoga after three minutes."

"I couldn't handle all that granola and downward dog. And hippies reek of compassion and hope, my two least favorite scents. How could I be expected to partake in some hippie orgy disguised as a yoga class? I'm pretty sure I saw Kate Hudson there! No thank you!" Rory adjusted her headband. "But enough of that! Someone has slandered the Gilmore name."

"What'd they say?"

"That I surrendered my purity to Jess Mariano!"

"Well, you did, Miss Rory."

"The evidence is inconclusive. And I know myself. Even at my very lowest and fueled by champagne I wouldn't let Jess get past second base."

"What about the other day at his house?"

Rory furrowed her eyebrows. "Have you been reading my diary?"

"It fell open when I was hanging your dresses."

"Okay, third base. Whatever. It's all the same. The point is Jess Mariano did not take the greatest gift I have to offer any man. Besides my company, of course."

"Do you think Mr. Jess told people?'

"I've considered that. I did humiliate him the other night by refusing to beg him to, um, do things that I would never do with him. But it's too evil, even for him."

"But he's your most formidable opponent at Chilton."

"Except for…"

Greta cut her off, "Miss E."

"Exactly."

"But how would she know?"

"Let's not lie to ourselves. I have about as many enemies as Stalin. I'm sure whatever pudgy bitch, marching around in an Oscar knock-off, that snapped the picture was more than willing to help out the devil."

"My family in Russia could make her disappear."

"As much as a service I would be doing the world to make that disease ridden whore disappear, there isn't enough death in suffering."

"Oh they'd make her suffer."

"I'm going to ignore that sparkle you get in your eye when talking about murder."

"Then what, Miss Rory?"

Rory didn't answer, distracted by her phone. And more specifically, who was calling her.

"Who is it Miss Rory?"

Rory's finger danced between answer and ignore, finally choosing ignore.

"Oh just a waste of sperm with less than honorable intentions. I'm surprised he took time out of his whoring to make a phone call."

"I think you're being a bit hard on Mr. Jess."

"Your job is to agree with me, Greta. It's why my mother pays you."

"Yes Miss Rory but…"

"You know what happens when people question Putin? They disappear."

"I can't help that deep down, I'm a romantic."

"Then go watch some bland film starring Drew Barrymore and Hugh Grant. Romance is for thirteen-year-olds that think a vampire stalking them is romantic."

"I prefer The Vampire Diaries."

"Do I seem like I'm in the mood to chat about sub-par network television?"

"Oh Miss Rory, but I think you'd like this show."

"We can watch it over the summer when my days consist of laying by the pool in the Hamptons and having a fling with a too tan for Manhattan lifeguard. Right now, we need to plot."

"Just return Mr. Jess' call and I promise to put all my energy toward getting rid of that bottle blonde bitch."

"Since you used lots of descriptive adjectives instead of her name, I'll indulge you this once. But I'm just going to tell him he is a sexual terrorist and hang up."

"You don't know how happy that makes me."

"Sarcasm is not attractive."


Jess picked up on the first ring. Way to not seem eager, boy. While you're at it, start humping her leg the next time you see her.

Rory started immediately. "Don't talk. You might want to talk about the mental breakdown I had in your room the other day. I don't. While it was mildly humiliating and resulted in the loss of my pride and Chanel earrings, which I want back, by the way, I've moved on."

"With who? From what I've heard, no one wants you."

"Is that your lame attempt at trying to hurt me?"

"Even I know you can't hurt a heartless bitch."

"How's it feel to know you're personally keeping the whores of Hartford in business?"

"Someone has to help them pay for college. I'm glad to be doing a public service. How's it feel to know you'll die bitter and alone?

"Comforting, actually. I'd rather be alone than the poor girl that accidentally marries you."

"Rory Mariano doesn't roll off the tongue that well."

"Fuck you."

"As much fun as this passive aggressive bantering is, and really, it's a thrill, I called for a reason."

"I'm breathless to hear what you have to say."

"I'd rather not have this conversation over the phone."

"What are you, pregnant?"

"Hilarious as usual, Gilmore."

"I'm a different person since I last saw you."

"It was only two days ago."

"I've done a cleanse and consulted my life coach. What happened with you was a phase. Nothing more."

"Bullshit."

"All I feel for you is pity because it's obvious you're fucking all these girls in an attempt to get over me. And failing."

"No, sweetie, I'm fucking them because I'm Jess Mariano."

"If it helps you sleep at night, go ahead, lie to yourself."

"The minute you see me, you won't be able to control yourself."

"I've been praying for you. I'm worried you'll end up drunk and roaming the streets, like Edgar Allen Poe."

"I thought you didn't care about me?"

"I don't. But to get over you, I had to forgive you."

"Forgive me for what?'

"You know what."

"My memory is a bit fuzzy. Give me a hint."

She sighed. "Why did you call, besides to give me a rash?"

"Meet me for drinks. In a very public place. I promise to keep my hands to myself."

"Why?"

"We have some things to discuss."

"Like how you told the whole school you took my virginity?"

He swallowed the truth and opted for a lie. "You know I wouldn't do that."

"Actually, I don't. You lied to me about fucking me and I believed you. Who knows what you told people that weren't even present."

"Whatever, Rory. Use whatever defense mechanism you need to protect your doomed relationship with Logan. But I didn't tell anyone."

"I'll meet you."

He was caught off guard. "What?"

"If you're telling the truth, I'll know."

"How?"

"It's a Gilmore thing."

"7?"

"I can't wait."

"Me either," he said but she had already hung up.


"Miss Rory, I thought you said Mr. Jess didn't tell anyone."

Rory stared into the mirror, applying red lipstick. "He didn't."

"Then why are you meeting him?'

"Because I have to finally end whatever there exists between us. I need him to set me free."

"He won't do that."

"I can be very persuasive."

"But even if he sets you free, if you still feel something for him, it's not going to be any different."

"I need him to tell me it was all just a game."

"But Miss Rory…"

"I'm a Gilmore. He's a Mariano. We aren't supposed to be together."

Greta sighed. "Which dress would you like to wear?"

"The black Chanel. It's his favorite."


Rory Gilmore knew how to enter a room.

Jess was determined not to notice her. He starred into his martini, refusing to make eye contact. He felt her heat as she closed in on him, felt her closeness, but still refused to look up.

"Gin martini. Dry,"she ordered.

"I didn't know you were a martini girl."

"I didn't know you were opposed to eye contact."

"It's a new thing I'm trying."

"How Japanese of you. Pick it up from one of your whores?"

"It fascinates me that you ordered Logan's favorite drink when meeting with me."

"It's symbolic."

"Of what?'

"How little you mean to me."

He finally looked up. "The other night, you couldn't tell me you wanted me. You didn't even stutter over the thought. You were more than willing to fuck me but you couldn't even admit to wanting me. It was like as long as you didn't verbalize it, it didn't count. You knew how I felt about you. You knew and you just stood there, crying, begging me to understand why we could never be together, like it was a law or some bullshit like that."

Rory didn't expect this. "Um, well…

Jess cut her off. "I fell in some sort of love with you. I hadn't fucked anyone since your mother's party. A fucking nose graze and I was a different guy. What is wrong with me? I knew you didn't want me but for some reason, I couldn't get you out of my head. All I thought about was how much I wanted to be inside you, how I wanted to be the guy that saw the look on your face when you lost control. And then you asked me to be your escort and fuck me, I thought that meant something. But it was all just a game."

"That's all we were. Just a game," Rory whispered.

"That's all you can say?"

"What do you want me to say? That I'm thrilled you took my virginity and I don't even remember? That I wanted it to be you? That I'm happy it was you and not Logan? That when I think about you I can't even breathe? Is that what you want me to say? Because I can't, Jess! I can't."

"Why?"

"Because it's too much. I can't be…I can't…it's not safe."

Jess touched her thigh. "I know you're on fire right now. I can feel it. Don't deny it. Stop denying it. For once, Rory, be honest with yourself. Please."

"Yes, Jess! I want you. I want you so bad it makes me hate myself. You make me hate myself," she paused, removing his hand, "which is why I need you to set me free. Tell me I meant nothing to you. That you did all of this just to fuck me. Please."

"Is that really what you want to hear?"

She didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"I wanted you because my best friend couldn't have you. I wanted to wave your v-card in his face," He stopped, trying to gain composure, "It was all just a game."

Rory couldn't breathe. "Thank you."

Jess stood up. "You're welcome." He went to leave, then stopped. "Your virginity is still intact."

And then he was gone.

Rory's head fell into her lap, sobs taking over her tiny frame.


One week later.

No one, not even the Russian call girls he so adored, had seen Jess Mariano since his encounter with a certain virgin. Yes, we said virgin. It appeared Jess couldn't get where no man had gone before, which was really a shame because we were so looking forward to referring to him as Neil Dickstrong from now on. Oh well. We should've known Gilmore wouldn't hand over her virginity to someone that in no way resembled Carey Grant.

Jess Mariano gone. This had to be cause for celebration for the virgin. Right?

"He won't take my calls."

"Who?" Greta really was Rory's only friend.

"Jess."

"I thought you finished things."

"I did. But it's Jess. He's probably stumbling around Brooklyn in a haze of whiskey, smelling like a baby prostitute. As the only friend he has, I'm concerned."

"I thought you were no longer friends."

"Did I say friend? I meant…well, I don't want him to get hit by a fast moving vehicle! Is that so wrong of me?"

"Oh Miss Rory. Just admit it."

"What?'

"That you're in love with Mr. Jess."

"No, I'm in love with trunk sales and iced coffee and Russian literature. Not Jess Mariano. Never."

Greta had watched Miss Rory wallow for years, ever since she first saw The Way They Were and decided to emulate Barbara Streisand. She knew how to appeal to her somewhat dramatic tendencies. "When Mr. Jess gets in a bad way, isn't there a bar he frequents in Brooklyn?"

"I'm not going to rescue him! That makes it seem like I'm worried. Which I'm not."

"Then I'll go inside, look around and see if he's there. It'll be simple. You can wait in the car."

"Make sure he's breathing."

"Of course."

"Because that bar is wretched. Audrey Hepburn wouldn't be caught dead there. You really shouldn't even go inside. But I'll make an exception this once…wait, what was I saying? Oh yes. The bar is so despicable that he could be shooting up like Charlie Parker in the corner and they'd be oblivious."

"What do you want me to do if he's shooting up in a corner?"

"Jess would never do hard drugs. He's Kerouac light," she paused. "Oh and let me know if he is in the company of anyone that wouldn't be allowed near my grandmother." She stopped, and then realized what she had to do. "You know what? I'll just go inside."

Greta smirked, "If you're sure."

"If he's in a bad way, I'm the only one that can get through to him."

Really, she just couldn't be away from Jess any longer. She'd made a mistake at the bar. A huge, awful, irreparable mistake.


The bar was named Rick's. How appropriate.

Rory saw him as soon as she entered. He stood out, being the only guy who had ever heard of Hugo Boss and still tried to wear a bow tie after ten gin and tonics.

"Rory Gilmore in Brooklyn. I must be dead."

"I'm sure you're only one vagina and a gin and tonic away."

"What brings you to this fine establishment?"

"You."

"But it was all just a game, Freckles. That I apparently lost," he said, mocking her turn of phrase.

"You can't do this."

"Why do you care what happens to me? You're not my girlfriend, my friend or even a girl I fucked. You mean nothing to me."

Rory stiffened. "I don't believe you."

"Don't get me wrong; it would have been nice to have taken what was oh so precious to you. But I failed. And I've decided to move on. I have new conquests to occupy my bed with."

"How noble of you. And while I fully support your mission to fuck every bitch in Hartford, it's kind of hard to do that from some bar in Brooklyn."

"So you're here to play some twisted version of a wingman?"

"Sure."

"No, thanks."

"Come on, Jess. Even Elliot Smith would peg this as pathetic behavior."

He lifted his gin and tonic. "I'm just a man enjoying a drink. Hemingway partook in this activity quite often. He's your hero, right? The one thing that always seems to get you going? You should approve of this behavior."

"Hemingway shot himself."

"He didn't fade away. It's commendable."

"Fine. Sit here and wallow in self-pity. But if you ever decide to sober up, I'll be in Hartford."

"You seem to confuse me with someone that cares about your whereabouts. I'll admit, I had a thing for you. You had this unattainable quality, an innocence that I wanted to take. And seeing you in nothing but your panties is an image I continue to play over and over in my head," he paused. "But that's all you are to me; an image of perfection. Once I got to know you, I wanted nothing to do with you. I don't want you or your pity."

And then, for the kicker. "By the way, Gilmore, this was all just a game orchestrated by the lovely E."

She was confused. He must be drunk. "What?'

"E asked me to fuck you. Not that it was that excruciating of a task and I quite enjoyed parts of it, as you know," he looked her up and down in a way that made her feel naked, "but the only reason I was in detention that day and followed you into the bathroom and held the elevator was because I was doing what E wanted. The plan took a bit longer than expected since you were more immune to my charms than every other girl at Chilton, which is impressive, but like all the others, by the end, you were practically begging me to fuck you. The only reason I didn't was because I hate E. She really is a cunt, worse than you, actually. But if I'd wanted it, I could have been the proud owner of Rory Gilmore's virginity."

"You're lying."

"It was all just a game, Rory. Enjoyable for a while but by the end, I was tired of your shit, just like everyone else. It's almost sad to think that you're only friend is someone your mother pays to follow you around. How does it feel to be completely alone?"

She fought back the tears. "I can't believe I was considering the idea of being in love with you."

"I'm a good actor. I don't blame you."

"Shut up. Just shut up." She grabbed her head. "How could you do this to me?"

"I always told you we were the same. It's your fault for not believing me."

Rory grabbed his gin and tonic, tossing it in his face. "Never talk to me again. Don't look at me. Don't think about me. If you see me on the street, turn the other way. And if you ever speak about anything that happened between us, I'll destroy you."

Jess, finally, had nothing to say.

"Goodbye, Jess. You'd be wise to not come back to Hartford."

Rory turned, running out of the bar, her heels slamming into the mahogany floor.

Jess watched her run. He looked dead inside.

Picking up his phone, he called E. "It's done."

"How'd she take the news?"

"How do you think?'

"I'm guessing I won't be getting an invitation to the wedding."

"Even if I wouldn't have made a deal with the devil, we never could've worked."

"I'm glad to see you've spent enough time with Gilmore to adopt her Audrey Hepburn fantasies. How's it feel to not be her Paul?"

"Wonderful," he said, without any feeling left in his voice.

"Well, I guess this is it."

"Enjoy ruining any man with potential."

"Enjoy sorting out your mommy issues with a slew of Russian call girls." E stopped. "I still can't believe you're so in love with her you were willing to sacrifice yourself to get rid of me."

"Like I said, we never had a chance."

"If only she knew, maybe she'd forgive you."

"She knows enough."

"Yeah, and I'm not the romantic type, so it's not like I'm going to tell her…"

He cut her off. "Goodbye, E." He hit the end button. It was symbolic of so much more than he wanted it to be.

Jess hated symbolism.

"Another gin and tonic," he ordered.

This was all he had to live for.


Paris sauntered up to Rory with a coffee. She pushed it toward her. "A peace offering."

Rory stared at the coffee for a bit, wanting to make Paris squirm, finally deciding to accept the gesture. "Why the sudden change of heart? I thought you found a new queen."

"She left town."

"E's gone?'

"I guess she really wasn't ready for the much anticipated showdown with you."

"Do you know where she went?'

"Probably back to that convent. Or a mental hospital. Supposedly she had a mental breakdown in Charleston's office, confessed she made up the whole "Rory Gilmore has found company on Jess Mariano's dick" story and was asked to find help."

"How pathetic."

"I should've known you would never sink so low that you'd let Jess Mariano take your virginity. You're a Gilmore."

"He took E's virginity. And half the girl's at Chilton. I'd have to be completely consumed by my pseudo daddy issues to ever go there."

"I'm prepared to beg for your forgiveness."

"Good."

"You seem oddly calm about the whole situation."

"I've changed."

"Don't tell me you've adopted some hippie type philosophy full of love and compassion."

"God, no. Kill me with a sharp object if I ever start smoking hookah with unsavory characters and hugging dogwoods."

"I'm pretty sure that is in our constitution."

"That reminds me; we need to find our next project."

"I'm thinking about Karen O'Hara."

"Terrible name."

"We could probably get her to change it."

"Look into the logistics of that."

"Will do. Anyway, she's always photographed in the front row at New York Fashion Week. She's never been seen in last year's Kate Spade's. And her father is good friends with Donald Trump."

"What about her breeding?"

"I can't find anything on her mother."

"Probably means she was a whore."

"Or dead."

"So we have a Cinderella on our hands?"

"But with a trust fund."

"It could work."

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you want to find a new minion so quickly?"

"I'm bored with the complacent social order of this school. People have gotten too comfortable with their supposed importance."

"You're going to make such a good dictator one day."

"Thank you."

Paris paused, unsure of her next question, but posed it anyway. "I know this is dangerous territory to breach and you don't have to answer but I have to know, was there ever anything between you and Jess? I mean, I know you didn't lose your virginity to him but there was a certain tension between you two for some time. He's charming, rich and from what I hear, well-endowed, so no one would blame you for being briefly enamored with him."

"Why do you care? Are you writing fan fiction about Chilton?"

"No, I just…"

"Don't mistake being my minion with being my friend. We're not confidants. I don't even really like you. Next time you side against me, I'll make sure to make every minute of your life unbearable. Do you get where I'm going with this?"

Paris rolled her eyes. "We're not going to sit around and gossip and braid each other's hair. Yeah, I get it."

"I'm glad. Never bring up Jess again."

"Okay." Without answering Paris' question, Rory just did.


But no matter how hard Rory tried, there was no way she could avoid Jess forever. They had a way of getting thrown together.

Rory was pacing in front of Charleston's desk. "This is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit."

"You skipped 6 of your 7 assigned detentions. And you were drunk at the one you actually attended. This is your own fault, Miss Gilmore."

"I've been accepted to Harvard. I'm done with this place."

"Lower your voice, Miss Gilmore. And adjust your attitude. You still have a month left here."

"You can't make me complete this bullshit punishment. Miss Rigby made the whole thing up! She confessed."

"While that is the case, your behavior, when confronted, is what landed you in detention. You acted like a petulant child."

"Do you know what I've been through since you allowed Miss Rigby back into what is supposed to be an exemplary institution that prepares its students for Harvard, not a future in porn? And not even good porn at that? She tried to ruin my life. She paid someone to try and take my virginity! Do you know how humiliating that is?"

"Oh dear lord, did he succeed?"

"No! But think of the implications if he had. And I'm still being punished. And I broke up with my boyfriend and took someone else as my escort to my debutante ball that doesn't love me and never will and never did and was paid to take my virginity. Do you understand?"

"Someone was paid to take your virginity, yes."

"So you can't make me to go detention. Or I'll kill myself."

"What?"

"Not really. Don't put me on Xanax. I'm fine. But metaphorically, I'll kill myself."

"I don't follow."

"Why is this school out to get me? I'm a good person! I'm the valedictorian. I volunteer at soup kitchens. I'd save kittens from trees if I wasn't afraid of heights."

Charleston sighed. "Just go to detention today and I'll write off the other five as served, okay Miss Gilmore?"

"You're such a dictator."

"It was lovely seeing you, Miss Gilmore. Say hello to your grandparents for me."

"Nazi sympathizer."

"I look forward to your speech at graduation."

"Say hello to Eva for me," she muttered, slamming his office door.


"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Rory slammed the door behind her.

There he was. The dick she banished from Hartford. In detention. With her. Again.

We're guessing this time there isn't going to be any rum. Or fun. Oh well.

"What'd you do this time, Gilmore?'

"Don't speak to me."

"You asked me a question."

"It was a statement, jackass."

"Still bitter, I see."

"Let's see. You plotted with E to take my virginity, pretended to be in some sort of love with me, subsequently making me dumb enough to develop pseudo feelings for you. And then humiliated me in a bar on Brooklyn. Did I leave anything out?'

"Am I allowed to speak?"

"If you must."

"Well, the almost sex in my bedroom was an important moment in our fake relationship, I'd say."

"And your murder right now will be added to that list, I'm sure."

He thrusted toward her. "Your hate of me has always turned me on."

"Who's paying you to fuck me now?"

"Your mother. She thinks a good fuck is just what you need."

"Does she know she employed the worst prostitute in town?"

"I'm guessing you're not planning on forgiving me anytime soon."

"I thought about it. But then I remembered that time you were paid to fuck me and decided against it."

"I wasn't paid."

"You whore yourself out for free?" she asked, rhetorically.

"It's not like you're innocent in all this, Gilmore."

"Actually, I am. Have you forgotten that you failed at the one, important task in your mission?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. I wasn't going after a poor, defenseless virgin with headgear and a skin condition. It's you. You make grown men cry."

"My ability to bring people to tears doesn't make my virginity a betting matter."

"I'll admit what I did was…"

She cut him off, "You treated my virginity like it was a race horse!"

"You used me just as much as I used you, Freckles."

"Excuse me?"

"That night in my room…"

"I had a mental breakdown."

"Well during that mental breakdown you practically begged me to fuck you, as long as you didn't have to admit to having feelings for me."

"It's hard to develop feelings for a spineless jellyfish."

"You know how I feel about you."

"Whores don't have feelings."

"I don't know why I try," he muttered.

"You mocked me in the meatpacking district. People don't recover from that."

"You're the same heartless bitch you've always been, so I say you recovered just fine."

"You can't do this! Stop it! You can't tell me I meant nothing, that it was all just a game, that you were fucking me for sport or some shit like that and then try to spin this into some mutual fuck up. I get to hate you. It's my right. You don't get to be bitter."

He sort of smiled. "I love you."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't."

"I get that what I did to you is classified as unforgivable by most human beings. But we're different. You're different. Stop pretending that we operate under the same rules as everyone else."

"I don't love you."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. I thought I did but it turned out to be a cold."

"So you loved me…"

"For four to six days."

"I don't want anyone else." He was practically begging at this point.

"Well, that's too bad. Because I don't want you," she said, without any feeling.

"I'm sorry."

Rory looked down, "I wish I could forgive you…" she trailed off.

In three seconds, he had crossed the room, closing the gap between them. He grabbed her hands, a hopeful look in his eyes. "You can."

When she didn't say anything, he continued. "Who cares what everyone else thinks? I want you, Rory Gilmore. You. That's all that matters."

"Goodbye, Jess," she whispered.

He was confused. "What?'

"You make me miserable. I can't be with someone that makes me miserable." She jerked away and turned, leaving him behind.


Ending Author's Note: And that is the end.

Just kidding. I'm not that evil. Although I'm not promising a happy ending. Just that the next chapter is the end, the end my friends, as Jim Morrison would say. I'm really happy that it just sort of naturally progressed to this point. It's so strange how a story really writes itself, if you let it. I understand the need to please fans or get a story to a certain conclusion or have two people end up together but with this story, I really haven't done that. Basically, I destroyed every relationship in this chapter and burned the whole fucking thing down cause that's what the story wanted me to do. I know I sound possessed right now, like I'm writing some Stephen King shit ("The story made me do it!" I'll scream from my padded room) but I really understand that Hemingway quote where he says all I do is sit down at the typewriter and bleed or something like that. I just provide the words and somehow, it became this. This mess. Whether or not you like it, well, I have no way of knowing (until you do that whole review thing) but I hope it at least feels real, like nothing was forced.

So the next chapter. The end. It'll probably take me a month but it's coming. Finally.

Reviewers: I feel pretty shitty about never responding to your lovely reviews because without you guys, I wouldn't do this. I need some sort of support and you provide that. This is a truly hippy experience, brimming with love and honesty and neediness. It's glorious. But this time, I promise to take the time and respond to your thoughts/concerns/ideas. Because I really do value them and look forward to them. So thank you and sorry for failing last time. Now, shall we go out with a bang? I say yes. Bang the shit outta that review button. And then I'll bang the shit outta the reply button.