The day didn't seem or feel any different than any other passing day. She awoke on time for once, half-heartedly curled her hair and applied her makeup. She awoke her roommate, whose slumber was so intense you'd think she was hibernating, and prepared a light breakfast for the two. She took a seat at her modest kitchen table, smiling in spite of herself, for accomplishing these various tasks all before 9:00 in the morning.

Tori smiled at her knowingly as she stepped into the kitchen, fully clothed. "You made me breakfast." She stated, her face blank.

"Yes, Tori. Very good, Tori." Jade said, sarcastically, taking a vicious bite of her toast.

"I wanted to make you breakfast." She plopped down into the chair, with disappointed eyes, and began to shovel scrambled eggs and toast into her mouth.

Jade put forth a lazy shrug. "That would require one waking up a good thirty minutes before your class starts."

Shooting a glance at the digital clock, Tori gasped, and then proceeded to nearly choke on the food she was focused on chewing. "We've got to go." She choked out.

"Unfortunately." Jade sighed, irritably, and placed their dirtied plates into the overflowing sink.

Jade drove the two in her car, as it made more sense, saves gas and whatnot, and she was a much more skilled driver, although Tori would not admit this last part.

She rounds the parking lot swiftly, pulling around to drop Tori off at the building, in which her summer program class of the day resides. The brunette shifts the contents of her arms wildly, attempting to balance her books in hand, and giant monster purse. She exits the car in shambles, only ducking her head back in to call a "Thank you."

Jade prepares herself to drive away, when Tori clings to the door and forces her head back into the automobile.

"Oh, and Jade?"

She attempts not to roll her eyes at the girl, but it is, indeed, a failed attempt.

"Yes?" She asked, the irritation dripping from her flat tone.

"Happy Birthday," Tori purred, with a smile, before shutting the car door and prancing away.

Cat had insisted they attend a celebratory lunch, and although Jade made frivolous attempts to get herself out of it, she ultimately gave into the faux redhead. The restaurant, chosen by Cat, of course, was a swanky little outdoor café, cluttered with bored (though extremely rich) housewives, sipping mimosas and gossiping.

The thud of Jade's signature combat boots announced her (somewhat late) arrival. This immediately sparked Cat to life, and her animation was contagious, to seemingly everyone but Jade, that is. Hell, even the waiter seemed to serve them their iced tea gingerly after being within the proximity of the cheerful girl.

Jade, the ever sullen girl, stabbed at her salad with a lazy arm, and hardly said two words. She sipped her iced tea, and listened to Cat's eccentric stories with a lazy ear.

"We're going out tonight, you know." She told her taller friend, matter-of-factly.

Jade huffed. "Of-fucking-course we are."

The petite girl rolled her eyes at Jade. This was incredibly rare.

"Jade," her voice was pleading.

Jade, who had already begun to zone out again, arose her glance. "Yes?"

"Would you at least pretend to be a little happy? It's your 21st birthday, after all." Cat countered, adopting a bit of a sing-song voice that reminded Jade far too much of high school.

A long sigh escaped Jade's mouth. All Jade ever seemed to do was sigh or groan or roll her eyes. But, regardless to her obvious displeasure, she promised she would attempt to have a nice time—because she wanted to, not because Cat wanted her to, although both girls wondered if that were true.

"Oh no," Her voice was sterner than usual, fiercer. "No, no, no, no." But just as she attempted to pivot and stalk away, two pairs of clenching hands materialized on either side of her.

"What the hell?" She nearly shouted, as Robbie and Andre lifted her into the air and began to drag her closer.

"Don't think I can't fight Robbie off." She continued to ramble, attempting to shake free of his hold. "You wanna lose that arm, Shapiro?" Jade asked, threateningly, in a bit of a snarl.

Cat only sighed. "Jade, this is for your own good. And please, do not threaten my boyfriend."

"Thanks, baby." Muttered a blatantly struggling Robbie.

"You are fucking crazy if you think I am getting in that water, Caterina!" She hissed her best friend's full name, as she writhed in the two boys' arms, who were a hell of whole lot stronger than she would ever admit.

"Jade, would please calm down?" Pleaded an exasperated Tori, walking just behind the immediate trio, by Cat's side.

Cat's idea of a party for Jade had been hosted on the beach, multiple bottles of liquor and a ridiculously large cake with a camp fire to set the mood. Her plan was very precise. She'd get Jade somewhat drunk, and then coax her to go into the water. But what she didn't plan on—was that Jade could be an exponentially angry and spiteful drunk.

"No, Tori! I will not calm down!" She shrieked, continuing with her temper tantrum, and Cat was immensely thankful that the beach was empty, with the exception of the gang.

"Cat!" Jade screamed, kicking her legs into the air, as they reached the ocean's shore.

"It'll be aiight, Jade." Andre cooed, although he tightened his grip as he did.

She turned to him and shot him her famous glower. "No, it will not be alright!" She hollered in a mocking tone, before redirecting her pleading gaze to her best friend. "Please, Cat, please." The raven haired girl scarcely begged anyone, hardly even used the 'p' word, unless it were coaxed out of her, (usually by her ex-boyfriend).

"Don't make me do this," Jade screeched, and her friends wondered if she was about to cry.

"Cat," Tori suddenly piped up. "Don't you think this is all a bit…extreme?"

The redhead propped her arm up to place it in her sun kissed palm. She allowed out yet another resounding sigh. "Guys, hush."

She took a few swift steps until she was facing her best friend. The incoming tide brushed the heels of her bare feet. Jade watched as it neared her with wide eyes.

"You know I'm scared of the water," She reminded her through clenched teeth.

Cat frowned at her now, tilting her head to the side, and extending her arms forward to place on Jade's shoulders.

"And you're not even supposed to swim at night! It's when sharks feed, and you can't see shit and the currents and the dolphins—the fucking dolphins! Cat, please, please, don't make me do this!"

"Jade, I'm not trying to punish you—"

"-Then this is a sick joke." She cut her off.

Cat jabbed a single finger in the air that halted Jade's mouth. She narrowed her eyes into an angry glare, but she allowed Cat to speak.

"You are twenty one years old now, Jade. If that's not an adult, I don't know what is." And Cat allowed a brilliant smile to spread across her face. "So tonight, Jadelyn West, we will conquer your fear of the ocean."

She could have sworn she witness Jade West gulp.

They'd gotten her in the water—well, Andre carried her into the water, whilst she pounded on his bare back, kicked her legs viciously and let out a murderous wail. Cat desperately hoped no one was within a five mile radius of the scene, because they would sure as hell call the police reporting an attempted murder.

Once in the ocean, Jade clung to Andre's body like a koala to a tree. "Don't think this means anything, Harris." She would mutter to him. And he would laugh heartily, making some type of "Y'know you wanna get with this, West." comment. He would feel mildly successful as she cracked a small smile.

Cat, Tori, and Robbie also stripped down to their underwear and waded into the shallow water. Robbie was in the middle of an attempted splash fight with the two girls, when Jade felt a flutter against her leg.

She screeched and leapt from Andre's grasp into the air. "Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!"

Andre pawed at her body, attempting to steady her, while the others watched in unsure concern.

"Calm down, Jade!" He yelled, as he continued to try and hold her shaking frame still. "It's just a 'lil fish! It won't hurt you!" She was silent for a moment, and rested her head against his shoulder as she caught her breath.

Cat and Robbie simultaneously burst out into laughter at the raven haired girl's panic. Tori and Andre soon joined them.

Jade groaned. "For-fucking real, guys?!" She bellowed. "Has no one scene the intro to Jaws?!"

They air dried by the camp fire, shivering, and cursing at Cat for having this planned, but lacking in the department of towels. Cat and Robbie took comfort and warmth within the confines of each other's embrace. Andre kept rubbing his hands up and down Tori's bare arms in an attempt to warm her up.

Jade sat several feet away from them, rubbing her feet beneath the surface of the sand. She liked the way the rocks felt rough against her sensitive skin.

She'd been trying to keep her promise to him. To live her life, to be happy. She stopped drinking as much. She made attempted peace with her father and attended a dinner with him, her stepmother and younger brother once a week. She humored her friends and hung out with them and went to their stupid gatherings. When she was sad, she told Tori about it…sometimes. And she even tried to put the razor away. Tried.

Her eyes flickered downward and she frowned at her uncovered wrists. Fleshy scars and harsh red scratches. The salt water burned them slightly. No one made comments on them. Not anymore.

It had been months since her and Beck had broken up, and almost one since she'd talked to him. But he never missed her birthday. Never. She, at least, expected a godforsaken text message.

Perhaps that was her problem. Perhaps she should just stop expecting things—because she always got let down.

She had been immersed in her thoughts, and didn't reconnect with reality until she heard the popping of a champagne bottle.

"To Jade!" Cat shouted, after pouring each a plastic wine glass of the foaming beverage.

The group rose their makeshift glasses, and clanked them together, shouting "To Jade!" in unison, and then drank.

"For turning twenty one years old, and blossoming into a beautiful, smart, strong young woman. I know this year has been a lot on you, but just know you're the best friend I've ever had, and I think twenty one will be a kick-ass year for you."

Jade smiled genuinely at her from across the ever glowing embers of the fire.

"And for finally getting her white ass in the water!" Andre shouted, and everyone laughed and cheered. Everyone minus Jade, who frowned over at him and promptly flipped him off.

"And all because of Cat. To Cat." Tori smiled, and they toasted again.

"I can drink to that," Robbie joked and planted a kiss on his girlfriend's cheek. She giggled in response.

"It wasn't the first time I've been in the water." Jade suddenly said.

"We know, we know, 3rd grade, dolphins, overly friendliness," Andre shuddered for show.

But she shook her head. "No." And they all peered at her with obvious interest.

"Sophomore year, Beck—" she paused for a moment, because for some reason it physically pained her to say his name out loud, and she needed a minute to recover, "He got me in the water,"

And her friends witnessed something they didn't expect to see. She smiled at the memory—a large, full smile, with a twinkle in her emerald eyes. And then she laughed, lightly. "I told him I would castrate him if he took me in the water—but still, he's an idiot—so, he did it anyway. He threw me over his shoulder and I was screaming so much that the lifeguards came running over, and called the beach police, or whatever." Jade's smile widened, she laughed a short laugh. "And they threatened to arrest him."

Although the rest of the gang didn't truly find the humor in their best friend nearly getting arrested, they faked a laugh for the birthday girl.

The light drizzle softly punctured the glass of her window. She sat by the window sill, enjoying her favorite weather, typing vigorously on her laptop, revising her latest One Act.

Her apartment door squeaked open, revealing a damp-looking Tori. The girl tossed her tote on the sofa, and began to wring out her wet hair.

"Not on the carpet!" Jade hollered at her. Tori grimaced, before moping to the bathroom. "Jesus, Vega, ever heard of an umbrella?"

She re-emerged from the bathroom in a pair of yoga pants, an over-sized Hollywood Arts t-shirt, and hair rolled into a bun atop her head. "Very funny," She noted, plopping down on the couch. "It started pouring while I was out. Freak thunder-storm or something."

"That's unfortunate." She said, although she smirked at her, before saving her document and shutting down her laptop.

"Yeah," Tori lamented, collapsing into a horizontal position, haphazardly dangling her feet off the piece of furniture. "I hate the rain."

And the smirk suddenly spread into a smile as Jade gazed out the window and admired the droplets traveling down the large window. "I love it," She told her, tone much softer than usual.

Tori, who had been glum only a mere moment ago, smiled at her kind-of-friend turned room-mate. "You love the rain?" She asked, a cockiness emerging from her typically meek voice. "Never thought I'd see the day when Jade West openly admitting that she loves things."

Jade shook her head, and her smile disappeared. "Yeah, well, rain is pretty fucking fantastic."

"I don't see how," Tori disagreed, rising up to pop her back in two swift moments. The cracks filled the air and Jade gave her an appraising—where others would probably be disgusted—look. "It's wet, and cold sometimes, and it's hard to drive in, and it's just—blech."

But the raven haired beauty just smiled her knowing smile and shook her head at the half Latina. "You don't understand." Her emerald eyes lit up. "Rain is just—it's perfect. The way it smells. The way it sounds beating against your window in the dead of night—like a lullaby, or something. And dancing in it, like a fucking fool, and everyone looks at you like your crazy, but you just don't care. And your hair is soaked. And your clothes are sticking to your body. And you'll probably get pneumonia. But it's worth it. It's so refreshing, and cleansing, and beautiful. Rain is worth the stickiness. And the pneumonia. And the crazy looks. It just—is."

Jade had lost herself in memories. Memories of her and her mom when she was a child. They would have picnics on the kitchen floor on rainy days. But Jade always found herself begging to go outside—to play in the rain. And her mother would eventually give in and join her. Memories of Beck passed through her head. He loved the rain, too. Scenes of their cliché rain dancing trailed through her mind, and she found herself smiling like a fool.

Tori's voice broke her from her thoughts, and swept her back into present day—into realty.

"You know how they say that someone becomes so much more beautiful when they're talking about something they're passionate about? Well, it's true."

And Jade rolled her eyes, but flashed a small smile, regardless. One that she attempted to hide. "Oy, with the cheesiness."

It wasn't far into the summer when local theatres had agreed to produce Jade's plays. She'd immediately enveloped herself into her work. She directed them, of course. She would never sell her plays. They were the closest thing she'd ever had to "babies," as she so often referred to them.

Well Wishes had become a favorite of the immediate public. She'd put it on at various theatres. And she was constantly told by "fans" or random people who approached her post-performance, which was often, that it was the most famous of her shows. And she was glad. She wanted this: the success. It felt good.

She'd disappeared to an alley she found through the back-door of the current theatre Well Wishes was debuting at, in an attempt to avoid all the compliments and harassment. It just wasn't her thing—appraisal—although , you'd think it would be.

She pulled a pack of Marlboro Red's from her messenger bag, and stuck one between her lips. Typically, she preferred Menthol cigarettes, but Beck always smoked Red's, so she often found herself craving those rather than her cigarette of choice.

She was the essential reason he'd started smoking—actually. He'd always found it to be a disgusting habit, as his father was a two pack a day smoker. But something about jumping resident's of Hollywood's fences to use their Jacuzzi and smoke cigarettes with Jade West their freshman year of high school made it worth it. Wasting Friday nights with her and reeking of cigarette smoke was enough to develop a habit within him.

Jade felt dangerous when she would smoke back then. Something about holding something that killed millions a year between her lips made her feel powerful. But perhaps that was simply her fourteen year old ignorance and narcissism.

Now, she smoked only for the comfort of the familiar smell—or to steady her nerves, or whichever. Her anxiety built up so high sometimes and it felt as if the only thing that would calm her down was a cigarette. Maybe that's why she was constantly mutilating her skin.

As she lit up, she felt a presence in the alley and immediately tensed as a male approached her.

"I really enjoyed your play," an English accent flared as an attractive dark featured man stepped into the glow of the streetlight. He looked to be in his mid-twenties.

"Thanks," Jade returned, disinterested, flicking the ash to the pavement.

"Mind if I bum a fag?"

"Kind of." She told him, sourly, and he smirked at her.

The man pulled a pack from his jacket pocket. "Not to worry. I have my own. Was just tryin' to…bond."

"I'm good. Not really lookin' to… bond." Jade replied, snidely, but the British man simply laughed, as he lit his cigarette.

They smoked in silence for several moments, before he spoke up again.

"I actually… am a producer." He admitted, flicking his cigarette butt to the pavement, and stepping forward with an extended hand, "Aiden Thornesmith."

Jade's eyebrows immediately arose, in surprise, as she, too flicked her butt to the street floor. "Thornesmith…as in Mason Thornesmith?"

The man—Aiden—too displayed a look of surprise. "Yes, uh, that's my father. Heard of him?"

"Met him. And your little brother. Well—kind of." She corrected herself.

He narrowed his irritatingly gorgeous eyes. "How—might I ask?"

Jade gazed into the night air for a moment, biting her lower lip gently. "Almost sang at the 2012 Platinum Music Awards, but then didn't, then my kind-of friend almost sold his puppet to your brother—but, didn't?"

A crease appeared between his eyebrows as he attempted to understand just what it was she was saying. "It's a very long, complicated, and…just plain fucking weird story."

And Aiden smiled at her, though the crease had yet to disappear. "I do enjoy very long, complicated, and just plain fucking weird stories, you know. And I do feel the need to point out that Francis? He's my half-brother. Very different mothers, him and I."

Jade smirked, but it quickly disappeared. "So, Aiden Thornesmith, why is it that you followed me into this very dark alley?"

He arose a finger, with a smile. "Ah, yes. Jadelyn West, of Los Angeles. Former student at Hollywood Arts Performing High School. Current student at CSULA. And might I say, fucking fantastic playwright."

She shrugged, although displayed no indication of impression. "That is correct."

"And one of these plays, Well Wishes, is very fucking fantastic. And I'd like to bring it to Broadway."

Jade frowned now. "I'm not looking to sell."

"I'm not looking to buy."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "What are you—"

He smirked a knowing smirk at her, sticking a second cigarette between his lips, and taking an agitating amount of time to light it.

"I don't have all night." Jade told him, tapping her combat boot-ed foot for effect.

A long drag, and then a large cloud of smoke assaulted Jade's air. She rolled her eyes, blatantly impatient.

He chuckled at the raven haired girl, with a shake of his head. "You're a spunky one, Jade West, you know that?" She raised her eyebrows at him, expectantly and crossed her arms across her chest, awaiting him to carry on.

"Along with your extensively impressive resume, which I also noticed you are a remarkable singer, songwriter, and actress, by the way, you are an impressive director."

She examined her chipped black nails, seemingly bored. "Go on," she commanded, noticing his pause.

"I couldn't imagine doing this play with any other director."

Finally, he had received her attention. She gazed up at him with wide eyes.

"You don't mean…" She found her quiet voice trailing off.

He smiled a smug smile. "I want you to come to New York with me to direct this masterpiece."

Jade immediately felt her breath hitch. She'd received offers before, yeah, but none as extravagant as this. None like this. She knew well within the depths of her mind that this could make her career. But she kept an uninterested front, afraid to seem unsure.

A small voice in her head that she somewhat hated piped up, reminded her what was in New York, who was in New York. That the true and final reason behind the breakup had to do quite a bit with where they were located.

"I can't just drop everything and go to New York." Her voice arose in a snarky tone. "I have a life here. I live here."

The smile never faded from his face. He handed her what looked to be an extremely crumpled and tattered business card. "Think about it, Jade West. Call me. Anytime."

And with that, as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared into the night air.

She didn't call him. Not at first, at least.

Because, although it may not appear that way to the naked eye, she did have a life in Los Angeles.

She had school here. A part time job at the record store. An apartment, a room-mate, friends. Her father and little brother resided in Los Angeles.

But was all that really worth giving up her dream?

It certainly wasn't for Beck. He wasn't about to give up his dreams for anyone. But she never blamed him for that. How the hell could she?

Her decision to go to New York was essentially made by Cat Valentine.

She received the call one Saturday afternoon.

Tori had gone out to a late lunch with Andre on the scorching summer day. Jade had been asked to join them, but denied the invitation. She wasn't feeling all that people-y that day. She didn't feel all that people-y the majority of her days.

Clad in short denim shorts and a miniscule bikini top, she sat on her terrace, lazily smoking a cigarette and sipping on iced coffee. She liked to peer over the balcony and watch the populated streets below buzz. Ever so often, she would tip the cup gently and allow a bit of liquid to spill and splatter onto the hot pavement. For some reason, she found it immensely entertaining.

The faint ringing of her cell phone from inside the apartment caught her attention. She quickly stabbed her cigarette out and dashed inside to retrieve it.

Without checking the Caller ID, Jade pressed the Talk button.

"Hello?" She asked, slightly out of breath.

"Jadelyn." The voice on the other end of the line nearly caused her to groan.

Mr. West was all business. Always had been. He was a wonderful business man. Even with his first born and only daughter. Jade wasn't even allowed a millisecond to respond before he began his spiel.

She remembers that day so well in the back of her mind each time she looks back to reflect—more likely, cringe—on it, but for the life of her she can't recall any disappointment in his voice when he reported to her that Cat had called him and confessed her worry regarding Jade. Years will pass and Jadelyn West will still be able to pinpoint her father's exact words, as he discussed how much she drank, how she continually cut herself, how she was and-quote out of control. But she was never able to summon remembrance of any ounce of sadness in his voice. Perhaps that was because there was none. Merely annoyance at her troubles, as if it were some inconvenience.

In the midst of his speech, she'd wandered back out onto the terrace, and, not allowing him to finish speaking, or say anything in return, she calmly dropped her Pear Phone over the edge and watched with a blank expression as it shattered into pieces on the fervent pavement.

Cat Valentine had taken advantage of the feverish Saturday afternoon to make smoothies and watch movies in her air-conditioned apartment with her boyfriend, Robbie Shapiro.

She hoist her sun-kissed bare legs over his pale and thin ones, and lay her head back on the burgundy sofa as they sipped their frozen beverages and skimmed through their extensive John Hughes film collection, simply indulging in the other's company.

It was always simple with those two. Not necessarily in the beginning, how they idly flirted for years before mustering up the courage to admit their feelings to one another. But everything else was. At first, Cat deemed it wrong—not normal. She'd always witnessed the constant bickering of her parents, of her best friend and her longtime boyfriend, so the simplicity had seemed ill-placed to the redhead at the time. But Robbie assured her relationships didn't have to be complicated, that they shouldn't be complicated, and Cat would wonder absent mindedly if she really knew anything about love at all—if every example she had ever been presented had been a lie. But she didn't read too much into it.

They were half-way into Sixteen Candles and Molly Ringwald was settled into her living room couch ranting to her father about Jake Ryan, and Cat was beaming at the heart warming moment as Robbie paid little attention to a movie he had seen too many times and traced gentle circles into his girlfriend's legs, when a determined knock on the door suddenly boomed through the quiet apartment.

Cat and Robbie both jolted, in surprise, but quickly recovered from the change in pace. Cat peeled her sweaty leg off of Robbie's with a giggle, and raced to the door.

She didn't expect an outraged Jade West on the other end.

"What the hell, Cat?!" She demanded as she stormed into the quaint one bedroom.

Cat quickly stumbled out of her best friend's way, startled. Her eyebrows immediately crumpled. "Jade." She tried to smile. Her pink lips lifted in attempt, but the deep brown regret in her eyes gave her away. She couldn't play stupid. Not anymore. She knew what this was about.

"Seriously, Cat! What in the fuck?!" The raven haired girl screeched, throwing her white fists into the cool air.

Robbie turned around at the commotion, and immediately jumped up from the couch—when he realized said commotion was an angry Jade—and rushed over to the scene to be sure she didn't injure his girlfriend, although he wasn't sure how much help he would be if the girl decided to get violent. But Jade wouldn't hurt Cat. They were best friends. Right? The used-to-be nerd quickly decided not to take his chances ,and stepped in front of the petite redhead, crossing his arms in the process.

"What's going on?" He asked, lowering his voice purposely in a sad attempt to seem threatening. Jade noticed, and quickly scoffed before regaining her anger.

"Ask your girlfriend." Jade growled, watching as Cat—who was still shielded by Robbie—frowned deeply, the guilt obvious on her features.

"I-I," Cat stuttered, from behind the curly haired boy. "Don't be mad, Jade, okay? Just let me explain first."

A roll of her eyes and then, a prompt cross of her arms. "Fine." She hissed, then glared at Robbie. "But I don't want him here."

Robbie didn't bother to act offended. Jade had made it clear she never withheld any desire to be his friend. He'd had some deluded thoughts that Cat and him becoming official may change that, and convinced himself that he wasn't disappointed when it never happened, that it was to be expected, that he was used to it.

But he would be lying if he said it hadn't stung. That Jade had insisted on hating Tori for years in high school, and now they were roommates, when Robbie had known Jade since the first day of kindergarten and she continued to act as if he was the least relevant thing on the Earth. He wasn't even good enough for Jade to hate.

So Robbie dismissed himself and went to wander the halls of their apartment building. He had meant to distance himself from the girls, but found he was still within the radius of their hostile screaming at one another—well, Jade's hostile screaming and Cat's apologetic wails of "I'm sorry" or "What was I supposed to do?!" and the most heartbreaking one "Jadey! No! Please! I love you!"

Without intentional motives of eavesdropping, he had slowly found himself wavering closer and closer back to his apartment. He paced the hall, straining his ears to make out their words, before surrendering to his curiosity and shamefully pressing his ear against the door.

"Jade, I was worried about you, okay? We all were. I didn't mean to—"

"Wait, wait, wait, so you all have been talking about me? You've ALL been worried?"

There was a pause and Robbie could distinguish the sound of Cat's gentle sobs, her sufficient sniffles. The quiet moment didn't last long though.

"Wa-was Tori? Is she worried about me like all of you?"

"It's not like anyone was betraying you, Jade. We weren't talking bad about you, okay? We're worried about you because we love you."

"Well, you don't fuck over people you love, Cat."

"I wasn't…. I wasn't doing that to you. I wouldn't do that to you."

"Jesus, Cat! Can you stop being a child for two fucking minutes?! We're not thirteen anymore, okay? You're an adult. You can say 'fuck.' You don't have to cry when you think you're getting in trouble. You can have a serious conversation. If you're worried about your friend, you don't call their mommy and daddy! You fucking confront them."

"I-I'm sorry, okay?! I'm sorry."

"You know what my Dad said, Cat?! He told me I was becoming just like my mom, asked if I needed to get professional help. He said if I keep this shit up, he would admit me."

Cat was getting more and more difficult to hear. All he could make out was muffled sobs, and repetitive "I'm sorry's,"

"Just mind your business, okay? I'm fine. I don't need you looking out for me."

"I just…" Sniffle. "Don't want you…" Sob. "To hurt yourself anymore, Jadey."

Robbie expected a cruel response. But instead, he heard quiet sobs that he didn't recognize. It took him a few moments before he realized they were coming from Jade.

No one spoke for several minutes, and Robbie began to wonder if he should move, if he should back away from the door before it was revealed he was listening in on them, but then Jade spoke again, and her voice sounded sober, clear, as if she hadn't been crying. And Robbie stood in disbelief, worrying that he had imagined it.

"Look, I have to go."

"Wait, you should stay. We could talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"But I—I'm worried about you."

"I don't need you to worry about me. I don't need anyone, okay?"

Cat's voice sounded brighter now, as if she were dabbling in optimism, to shed some light on the conversation. Good ol' Cat. "Everyone needs their best friend."

"Yeah, well, I don't."

Jade replied, coldly, and suddenly, before Robbie could realize, she was moving towards the door, she had opened it, and was glaring at him, and then shoving past him, and his girlfriend was in a ball, sobbing on their living room floor, the end of Sixteen Candles playing in the background.

Several weeks later, Jade and Tori lay in Jade's bed, sharing a bottle of whiskey, and watching and old re-run of Full House on mute. Angry looking red numbers flashed 4:23 A.M. from Jade's nightstand.

"I'm gonna tell you something funny." A somewhat drunk Jade smiled, as she gulped down a drink of whiskey, tipping the bottle back.

A somewhat tipsy Tori smiled. "Okay. Tell me something funny."

Jade paused for a moment, taking yet another sip before passing the bottle to Tori. "Okay," she motioned towards the television.

"Full House," she began to laugh, like someone who's telling a joke but bursts into giggles before sharing the punchline because simply thinking about it is just too damn funny. "Was Beck's favorite show." And she begins to laugh hysterically, throwing her head back, and clenching her gut, as the tipsy brunette laughs several short laughs.

And Jade realizes she really isn't even laughing at her ex-boyfriend's lame-ness, that his favorite show was just so cliché. And she wasn't even really laughing at the fact that, over time—throughout their relationship—the show had grown on her, and now she even enjoyed it.

But it was the fact that the mere thought of Beck's name and bringing up his favorite show left a prominent stabbing feeling within the cage that was her chest, that she hadn't talked to Beck in seventeen weeks and her best friend in three—for some reason, it was all just so damn humorous. It was just so fucking funny.

But then it wasn't. And her booming laughter ceased. And they ran out of whiskey. And then, she just felt empty again.

"When I was a kid, my dad used to tell me this story."

Jade was almost certain Tori was asleep, but for some reason, the silence was starting to get to her, so she allowed her voice to fill the air, even if no one was conscious to hear it.

"It was about this kid—I think he lived on a farm, or something, I don't know—anyway, he was out in the fields one day and his Dad told him not to move, and he listened to him."

She stopped talking. Even in her drunken state, she realized that the way she was talking to herself resembled her in a somewhat batshit manner. It wasn't until she decided she should probably try for sleep, when Tori quietly lolled, "Go on."

Jade re-opened her eyes on cue, and complied. "And uh, his Dad shot something by the kid's feet, and it was, like, a rattlesnake, and if the kid hadn't have listened, if he would have asked his Dad 'Why', he could have died."

"That's kind of a morbid story." And although her back was to Jade, the raven haired girl heard the smile in her voice.

"Yeah, uh, the moral of the story being you should listen to your parents. You shouldn't ask why. And I got that, I did. But for some reason," Jade stopped for a moment, and smiled, shaking her head, and Tori rolled over to face her with half-open eyes. "All I ever replied was: 'But Dad, we don't even live on a farm.'" She laughed, snidely, shaking her head at the memory. "And he would just ogle at me, so annoyed and—I don't know—like, disappointed at my stubbornness?"

Tori stared at her, as she studied the popcorn ceiling, fiddled her thumbs that rested on her stomach, as tears began to develop in her eyes.

"And that's how I always was with Beck. I never acted like I got it. I just—I mean—I never told him how much I loved him. I was just stubborn. And sometimes, I just…I wonder if my Dad knew that I got it, that I was just being a little shit."

The tears began to roll down her flushed cheeks now, and Tori wanted to reach out—to hug her, hold hr hand, something—but for some reason, she felt paralyzed.

"And I wonder if Beck knew when I said 'I know' after he told me he loved me that I was just being a smartass because I was always so scared of anything real, of anything honest…because I'm just so fucked up that I have to fuck everything up."

Tori still didn't say anything. She just lies there, and stares at her friend, with a troubled expression, wishing she knew what to say, what to do. But instead, she stares at her with now wide brown eyes, feeling helpless. She always felt helpless when Hurricane Jade cried. Everyone did.

Jade recovered a moment later, shifting emotions at the snap of a finger, and wiped all of her stray tears away. She turned to look at Tori, and they stared at one another until the red in Jade's emerald eyes turned clear once more.

"I'm going to New York." Jade said, finally.

"And I want you to come with me." She told her, before turning her back to the girl and drifting away to sleep without one more word.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and taking a liking to the story. You guys are grand, really.

Sorry this took so long to update. Hope you guys liked it.

Please keep leaving me reviews letting me know what you think/what you liked/what you didn't/what ripped your fucking heart out/ya know, that sort of shit.

Anyway, this story will probably end up being a tad bit longer than I originally said.

I have quite a bit to tell. Hope ya don't mind. -insert creepy winky face here-