Once Mulligan and Peggy dropped him off, John went inside. He took a shower. He combed his hair. He cooked some food. He watched a movie. He went through each and every single thing that would normally make him feel better. He most certainly did not feel better.
John, as much as he is wanted to deny it, was hurt because of Alex's actions, and was angry because of Eliza's. It just didn't make sense. Liza- his best friend, partner in crime, most trusted confidant- had know that he liked Alex. She had known, and she had said yes anyway. That stung. What stung even more was the fact that there had been a question for her to say yes to in the first place.
"Maybe I deserved it," he muttered, flopping down on a couch with a heavy sigh. There was no reply. A silence filled the space, and John couldn't shake the feeling that he was drowing in it. With a flick of the wrist that seemed almost angry, he turned on his old radio and allowed crackly singing to fill the room instead. It was not enough.
The song played in the background, filling the nearly empty room with unheard music. John sat there, completely numb. How had he been so stupid? He didn't know. Why had he let himself believe that there was even a chance? Again, he couldn't produce an answer. And why had he let Mulligan convince him to get his number? That was the real question, wasn't it. "Lams," they'd called them. As if.
He could very clearly recall Lafayette's laughing voice as he had given them the ship name. He had laughed, dubbed them adorable, and sealed John's fate. From that point on, he had let himself really hope. That was his first mistake. The second, of course was... well, he didn't really want to think about it.
The radio played quietly in the background still, although at that point he wasn't listening. John's thoughts were more occupied with his father. His God damned, fucking father, who had screwed everything up. How he had just walked into the room, and instantly destroyed everything John had been building.
Maybe it hadn't been all his fault, though... Maybe John should have done something differently. He certainly should have done something differently. But dwelling on that wasn't going to fix anything, he decided, and with that, he switched off the radio and trecked upstairs for a nap.
Heh guys! This chapter is a shameless filler, sorry. But! But the story description is finally in a chapter, so that's good! Alright, you guys know the drill. Blah, blah, comment, blah, blah, feedback, blah, blah, see you later.