13. Man-Made Dark.

Jade's father was officially the self-appointed dictator of her life. In two days, he managed to single-handedly turn everything from bad to worse. He had started looking at new schools for her. She constantly reminded him that it was unfathomably stupid to have her transfer her senior year, but he returned that she should be grateful for his attention, and shoved brochures into her hands. Jade figured he thought he was being considerate by letting her pick her own prison. Each one was worst than the last — St Catherine's looked like a convent, the Los Angeles County Girl's Institution for Science and Math look liked a Galaxy Wars hell, and the list went on. The brochures were uniform in their joylessness. There was none of the energy, the creativity, the color that drew Jade to HA in the first place. None of them even had so much as a brass band. So, to recap: at home, she wasn't allowed to do any of the things that made her happy, and was ridiculed and reprimanded at every turn; at school, she was squeezed out of her rightful place as leading lady, and on top of that, Cat wasn't texting her back. Jade dreaded home, her personal hell, and she dreaded school, the place that was once a haven. Cat couldn't be mad about one snippy comment, could she?

Jade sat up in bed on Monday morning and looked around her room blearily. The dark walls were certainly a nice change, but there were still boxes that she'd been trying to ignore for the past week piled by the almost-empty closet. She sliced the tape off one of the Keep boxes from her mother's house, seeking a certain black shirt she hadn't worn in awhile since she had been living mostly out of the stuff she'd brought from Cat's. She dug through the box, messing up all of Tori's careful folding. A spot of color amongst the black clothes caught her eye, and Jade dragged out a certain Canadian flannel. She rubbed the soft fabric of the sleeve between her fingers for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek. The shirt slid under the bed when she hurled it across the room. She found the top she'd actually been looking for and paired it with jeans from her dresser.

Richard and Celia's voices could be heard emanating from the kitchen, so Jade made the executive decision to buy breakfast and coffee on her way to school in order to avoid them. She didn't need another lecture explaining that she'd never find a good husband if she continued dressing 'like that.' Squeezing her eyes shut and praying to whatever divine being existed, Jade stood in the entryway. She opened her eyes and — lo and behold— her car keys were hanging on the hook. She sighed, relieved, and headed to the nearest Jet Brew, and even got to yell at the barista ("Maybe I don't want to have a good day, you presumptuous idiot!"). With a muffin in her stomach and the largest coffee they sold in her hand, she strutted into first period a half hour later and took her seat next to Andre.

"Hey," Andre said hesitantly.

"Yep," Jade responded without looking.

"How are you?"

"Fine."

"Oh. Good. Me too. Fine."

Neither of them said anything after that. In fact, Jade didn't hold a voluntary conversation the entire day — Cat wasn't in school. Jade found herself preoccupied by the idea that Cat was avoiding her. Cat wouldn't be distraught enough to skip school because of Jade…right?

Jade watched as Tori (once again) screwed up the blocking for the second scene, but she wasn't really seeing anything. She heard Sikowitz impatiently explaining no, Tori you are not supposed to stand up at that line, but it didn't give her any of the satisfaction that Tori being scolded usually did. It just made her apathetically annoyed. The teeny tiny optimist inside Jade was trying to claw its way to the surface, telling her that maybe it was a good thing that she was leaving Hollywood Arts. She wouldn't have to deal with this frustration anymore. She'd never be cast as an understudy if she went to school to be a doctor. No, she told herself. This is where I belong. I deserve to be here. Right?

Sikowitz waved Jade over when the cast was taking five.

"Jade," he said quietly. "On Friday, when we run the show, you'll play the lead. Tori's going to be out of town."

Jade nodded. It was customary for the understudy to have at least one run-through, just in case. Tori's departure just decided the date. Jade sat back in the audience, following along in her own script, quietly sighing every time Tori misspoke her lines. She left the second Sikowitz said she could, and opened the door at her house as quietly as possible.

Dragging her bag up the stairs to start her homework, Jade was not pleased to find in her room, once again, Yapper. She let out a primal scream of anger, which succeeded in startling the sleeping dog on her bed. Jade dropped her bag inside the door and gathered up the animal in her arms. Yapper sighed contentedly as Jade stalked down the hall and shoved open the door to her father's office. Richard looked up from the papers on his desk — no injury could stop this workaholic.

"Where's Celia?" Jade asked angrily.

"Ah, Jade," Richard said, removing the reading glasses from his nose. "What are you doing with Vera Wang?"

Jade deposited the dog on her father's desk. Backing away, she started roughly brushing away all of the little white fur that had stuck to her black shirt.

"Is your room clean?" Richard asked as Yapper jumped from the desk to his lap to the floor.

"I won't let them repaint it," Jade declared, referring to the decorators that were probably already on their way.

"That room cannot stay the color you painted it."

"I like the color I painted it."

"No one else will. How am I supposed to sell this house with a room painted like that? It's…distasteful."

"You're selling the house?" Jade asked, unimpressed.

"Celia and I have…discussed a move to another city."

"After I graduate."

"Does it matter? You'll be at a boarding school by the time this happens. In fact, it would open up your options immensely if we moved to Chicago."

"Chicago?" All Jade could hear was Trina singing about how it's a city that's exciting it's a city that's inviting and it made her a little sick.

"It's an option," Richard said casually, uncapping a pen and glancing back to his papers.

"I'm not leaving Hollywood Arts," Jade asserted for what felt like the hundredth time.

"It's already been decided that you are, Jade," Richard said impatiently without looking up.

"We'll see." Jade turned.

"Wait," Richard called just as she was crossing the threshold.

"What?"

"Be sure you're home early on Friday."

"I can't."

"You must."

"Why?" Jade sighed, annoyed.

"Some colleagues of mine are coming for dinner and I expect you to be there," he looked up at her sharply, "and suitably dressed."

"I don't have anything you would consider suitable, so I won't be there."

"A black dress will be fine. Cover your…ink, and take those things out of your face. You can wear some of the jewelry I bought you from Tiffany's."

Jade responded by returning to her bedroom. As she opened her textbook and began reading about the XYZ Affair for her history class, she brooded about all the little blue boxes she'd been given over the years, and a thought came to mind. A two hundred dollar bracelet for a missed dinner, a hundred and seventy-five dollar earrings for a play left at intermission, plus birthdays and Christmases. She'd have to come up with an actual number at some point, but her estimate of five thousand dollars lit a tiny spark of hope. Jade tossed her textbook aside and opened her PearBook. In a search engine she typed pawn shops in Los Angeles. At least something good could come out of all of those broken promises.

You're buying stars to shut out the light.

We come alone and alone we die,

And no matter how hard you try

I'll always belong in the sky.

I got a lot of reviews for the last chapter, so thank you so much! Not much happens here, mostly setup for further chapters, and this chapter is really short, but the next chapter is hella dramatic. Anyway, thanks to the guest who commented that they liked the quotes I use to end my chapters - they're all song lyrics (as are the titles), and I'll probably put the playlist on 8tracks when I finish the story. Also, don't worry, nobody's moving to Chicago. You'll see why eventually ;)