Nothing

"Am I better off dead?

Am I better off a quitter?

They say I'm better off now

Than I ever was with her."

 

Jace grinned after hearing the first few lines of the song. He gulped down the last of his scotch, then slammed his glass on the bar. "One more, Pete! It's my song!" The man behind the bar, who was drying out some shot glasses, shook his head. "Enough, Jace. You've already had too much-"

 

"I'm a paying customer!" cut Jace, as he rummaged his pocket for his wallet, brought out a hundred dollar bill, and waved it at Pete's face. "See? I'm friends with Mr. Franklin here," he said drunkenly. Pete snatched the bill, looked at Jace with a mixture of disgust and amusement, and then sighed. "Whatever, Jace." He took a bottle of scotch and poured him another round. Jace grinned, and took another swig.

 

There were only a few people at Beer Frenzy that night: a couple who seem to be tangled with each other in a fierce embrace at a dark corner, two executives laughing loudly, each with a hooker wrapped under one arm, an old man (face flat on the table) snoozing, and Jace, a slumped figure by the bar. One would think that since it was Friday, there would be more people here; then again, it was already 2 in the morning, so most of them have gone home already. The only sounds that could be heard were the occasional snore from the old man, the laughter of the executives, and the song playing on the radio.

 

"They say a few drinks will help me to forget her

But after one too many, I know that I'll never..."

 

Jace took out his phone and stared at the wallpaper - a bespectacled girl smiling sweetly. He closed it, then flipped it open again. He did this idly over and over again while his face was on the bar, the coldness of the marble relieving his headache. He closed his eyes, and her face was still there, vividly imprinted on his mind. He opened his eyes blearily and started to dial a number. His pulse shot up rapidly when he heard the other end ring.

 

"Hi," said the voice on the other line - a voice that he could always recognize. Even without seeing her, he knew exactly how she looked like, saying anything, by just listening to her speak. "I'm really sorry but I'm kinda busy right now. Can you leave a message? I'll call you back, promise. Bye!"

 

He ended the call, then dialed again.

 

~

 

Lizzie jerked up when she heard her cellphone ring. She quickly glanced at Nicole, who was staring back at her. At the same time, they lunged towards the center of the bed, where the phone was lighting up and vibrating. Lizzie got there first, but Nicole grabbed her hand firmly. "What do you think you're doing?!?" she said, in a harsh whisper.

 

"I'm answering the-"

 

"Hell, you are," Nicole said fiercely, tightening her grip on Lizzie's hand.

 

"It could be someone else-"

 

"And who might that be?" Nicole raised an eyebrow. "We both know who's calling. Who else would try to call you up at 2 am?"

 

Lizzie shot an accusing look at the her best friend, but sighed. "Fine, let go of my hand. I won't answer it."

 

"Promise?" Lizzie looked at Nicole reproachfully, but sighed and nodded. The other girl loosened her grip, at the same time the ringing died. Lizzie retracted her hand, massaging her wrist a little, and stared at her phone. Nicole sat across her best friend, hugging her knees. "Lizzie, why do you keep doing this to yourself? You know there's no chance-"

 

"He needs me, Nicole," Lizzie pleaded. "He always does," Nicole answered. "He needs you like he needs a mother and a house-elf. Don't you have a little more self-respect?" Lizzie shrugged and leaned against her headboard. She stared at the phone, which started to ring again. This time, she didn't reach for it. Nicole did, who turned it off and threw it on the hamper.

 

"Nicole! What if my mom calls?"

 

"Your mom would NOT call at 2 am, I promise. Unless..." Nicole stared at the ceiling with a small grin. "You're waiting for someone to call." Lizzie rolled her eyes. "And who do you think am I expecting, dearest?" Nicole grinned playfully at her. "You're waiting for that geeky professor to call you." Lizzie sat up straight, eyes wide with surprise. "WHAT? Mr. Sullivan?! Nicole, that's gross!" Lizzie grabbed a pillow and threw it at Nicole. "Why would he call me? And why the hell would I wait for his call?" Nicole, who caught the pillow with both hands, threw it back to Lizzie, laughing. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because he's freakishly obsessed with you? And you just looove the attention he's giving." Lizzie laughed as she dodged it and grabbed another pillow to retaliate. "Yuck!" Nicole laughed hard, but was cut off when the pillow hit her square in the face. She screamed, then lunged at Lizzie, giggling like a five-year old.

 

~

 

It was three am, and Jace hadn't moved at all. His face was still on top of the bar while he stared at the photo on his phone. The executives and the couple had left already, and Pete had just kicked the old man out into the streets. Jace was the only person in the pub now. Pete poked him slightly on the head. "Jace. Jace, you idiot, wake up. I'm closing."

 

"I'm awake," he answered, though he said so in manner of someone who has just woke up. "And you're closing too early."

 

"It's 3 am, boy. Go home."

 

"I'm not leaving," said Jace, stubbornly.

 

"Your father might be a good friend of mine," Pete spat, "but that doesn't mean I can't kick you out of my bar if I want to. And I have to say, I'm sorely tempted to do that right now."

 

"I said I'm not LEAVING!" Jace shouted as straightened up and threw his phone across the pub. He glared at Pete, whose eyes widened with surprise. Jece turned his attention to the bar, looking for something else to throw, but he couldn't find anything. He jumped off his seat and looked around. He then strode towards a table, grabbed an upturned chair and was about to throw it on the stage, when he collapsed on the floor, gasping. Pete just stood on the same spot, transfixed on Jace, who was slumped clumsily on the floor. He took a couple of steps towards him to pick the drunk boy up but stopped, because he realized that Jace was crying.

 

~

 

Lizzie was lying on the bed, her head on Nicole's thigh, when her home phone rang. She glanced up at Nicole, who was looking at her, too. "Lizzie-" she started, but Lizzie was already on her feet, striding across the room, towards her bedroom door. Nicole swore, then followed Lizzie out of the room and into the hall.

 

Down the stairs, Lizzie stared at the phone, inhaled deeply, then grabbed the receiver. She heard Nicole call out to her, but she already answered the call. Nicole was beside her after a few seconds, and was looking at her with an eyebrow raised. She turned her back to her best friend while she listened to the person on the other line.

 

 

After a while, she replaced the receiver and sighed heavily. "What did he want now?" Nicole asked acidly. "It was Pete," Lizzie said. "Jace is having another breakdown." Nicole rolled her eyes. "Call his mom. Let her pick him up from that stupid pub. But NOT you," Nicole said. "It's 3 AM, Nicole. I wouldn't wake anyone up at this ungodly hour."

 

"Then why the hell-"

 

"Stop it!" Nicole fell silent after Lizzie shouted. Lizzie didn't say anything else, but instead she walked past her, up the wooden stairs and towards her room. "I'm going to change," she said in an icy tone. Nicole opened her mouth in protest, but Lizzie spoke again. "And I'm going alone." Then she closed the door, leaving Nicole looking resigned in the dim hallway.

 

~

 

Lizzie knocked on the pub's old glass door, peering inside. It was already dark, she noted, and she couldn't hear a thing from the outside. A cold, autumn wind came, making her hug her jacket tighter. She was starting to get worried: what if Pete fell asleep? It couldn't have taken her more than 10 minutes to get her. What if Jace did something stupid and hurt himself? She kicked some of the leaves that were lying on the ground as she paced back and forth in front of the glass door. She was about to knock again when it opened and spilled Pete. He gestured for her to come in, and placed a finger to his lips to signify silence. She nodded, then went inside the pub.

 

It was easy to spot Jace - he was the seemingly pile of clothes on the floor at the center of the pub. He was holding his head on both hands, his elbows propped on a nearby chair; his shoulders were shaking, which meant he hasn't stopped crying. She let out a soft sigh. "Thanks for calling me, Pete," she whispered, without turning to look at Pete, then approached Jace slowly. She crouched down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jace..."

 

He didn't even look up. He smelled strongly of scotch. She repulsed the smell, but she didn't let herself be repulsed by him. This was Jace - her best friend since she could remember - it was impossible for her to be disgusted at the sight of him. He looked tornado-swept, with his curly hair, usually in place, but now sticking out in all angles and directions. His breath was ragged and smelled like vomit and alcohol. She felt a strong pang of guilt: if she had gotten here earlier, if she had only taken that call sooner-

 

She shook his shoulder lightly. "Jace. It's me, Lizzie. Come on, I'll take you home."

 

This time, he looked up. He looked worse than she thought - eyes red and swollen, his face filled with tears and screwed up in misery. But when he looked up and stared at her, his expression changed; he looked surprised, and then managed to create a small smile. "Baby, you're here. I've been calling you for ages." Lizzie stiffened up; the expression on her face quickly turned from concern to indifference. "Jace, it's LIZZIE. I'm not-" she paused. Even she can't even say her name without contempt. "I'm not Kate."

 

Jace laughed a little, then cupped her chin. "Babe, you're always fooling around." Lizzie yanked her face away from him. "D****t, Jace. I said I'm not Kate. Now get the f**k up and let's go home." She stood up and glared at him, who looked up with a shocked expression on his face. "Baby, did I do something wrong? Why are you mad at me?" He stood up and meant to put his arms around Lizzie, but she took a step back. A loud slap, like a crack of thunder, echoed in the empty pub. "Goddammit, Jace! I'M NOT KATE! I'M LIZZIE! I'M YOUR BEST FRIEND!"

 

Jace placed a hand over his red cheek, were a welt in the form of a hand was already forming. He didn't look up when he spoke. "Liz, I-"

 

"No, you listen to me, you idiot," she said violently. "It's about time you get over Kate. She is NOT coming back, okay? She's-"

 

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Jace said, in almost a whisper. "'She's not coming back, Jace. You can't bring her back, Jace. She's gone, Jace.' Why-"

 

"BECAUSE SHE'S DEAD, YOU IDIOT!"

 

Lizzie couldn't stop her tears now. She screamed in frustration, and kicked the chair Jace was leaning on a while back. "It's almost been a year! Why can't you get it?! She's dead! She's f*****g dead, Jace! I was there! You were there! We were there at the hospital! We were there at her funeral! You saw her when we buried her! Goddamit, Jace! Why are you doing this to yourself?! F**k!"

 

She kicked another chair and walked away from him. She felt her anger fill her like poison quickly spreading in her veins. She thought about Kate, about how she grabbed that wheel like the bratty b***h that she was while she and Jace fought, how Jace's car slammed into the pub's wall, leaving Jace and herself badly injured but alive, and Kate... that ungrateful, undeserving woman. She swore again, then looked back to scold at Jace some more, when he caught her in his arms as she turned.

 

Jace hugged her so tight that her arms hurt; she felt her breathing being constricted by the strength of his hold. She gasped his name, asking him to let her go, but he didn't. He buried his head on her shoulder, and she felt his ragged breathing on her neck. It sent tiny prickles on her spine, feeling his warmth like this, but it was the wrong situation to think like that.

 

"J-Jace, G-God, let me go. I c-can't breathe-"

 

"I'm so sorry, Liz," he said. He seemed to have stopped crying, but his voice sounded desperate and so.. so lost. "I'm so sorry... I know you've been through hell, too; but I can't help it. I just can't. My mind... I just can't... Kate..."

 

"J-Jace, please," Lizzie begged. She was starting to see spots dancing in her eyes from lack of oxygen. She hit his back with a fist, which seemed to get him out of his trance. He loosened his grip on her, and she gasped for air. "Jesus, Jace. Are you trying to kill me, too?" She covered her mouth, horrified at what she had said. But Jace heard it. He looked at her with helpless eyes. "Lizzie, no, God... I wouldn't..." He sighed, then grabbed his head with both hands, looking insane with his eyes wild. "I feel like... I feel insane, Liz. I'm losing it. I can't sleep, I can't eat well, I just drink because alcohol blurs my head, but when I stop drinking, I think of her... of what I did-"

 

"Jace," Lizzie's voice softened. It killed her to see him like this. Jace was confident and funny, but the Jace before her now was lost and wild and desperate. She reached out to touch his face, but he turned away. She took a step forward and held his face firmly with both hands. "Jace, you did NOT do anything... It wasn't your fault that she... That she died, okay? She grabbed the wheel from you-"

 

"But we didn't fight - If I didn't get angry-"

 

"Stop, Jace," she said, exasperated. "She was sleeping with Mark. I SAW her on his apartment. He told you himself-"

 

"Then I shouldn't have believed him!"Jace said, savagely. He glared at her, and she stared back with surprised eyes. "And me? Are you going to say that maybe you shouldn't have believed me, too?"

 

Jace looked up to her, opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He shook his head and looked away. "Liz, I..." But whatever it was, she never knew.

 

"You're not insane," she said. She didn't want to sound sadistic, but she didn't want to sound like she was coaxing him, too. She knew he needed support now, but there are times when an iron fist must be used, too. "She grabbed the wheel. It's her fault she died. It's no use to blame it on yourself; you WILL lose your mind if you keep doing that." She gained momentum. "Do you what your doing right now? You're being selfish. What do you think your mother is thinking right now? Do you think seeing you like this makes her proud? Do you think she isn't hurt by what you're doing to yourself? How about Pete? Albert? Your friends? How about me?"

 

The last sentence - when she mentioned her name - she didn't mean it, but it had sounded like a plea. She saw him look up to her. At least he stopped crying, she thought. But his eyes were still grieving. He moved closer to her, eyes still fixed on hers, then he held her hand. He squeezed it, then brought it to his lips.

 

Lizzie was taken aback by this affectionate gesture. She wanted to free her hand, but she didn't move. She felt all the hate, the anger, everything negative that she felt melt away at that moment. This was what she wanted, more than anything, in the world. Something she'd longed for for the longest time.

 

For what seemed like hours, maybe even days, Lizzie took her hand back. "Come on, emo boy. Let's get you home."

 

They were silent as they made their way to Lizzie's car. As they walked out of the pub, Jace grabbed her hand again, but this time she didn't pull it away. She thought he needed it, so she conceded. He only let her go when they reached the car. As soon as they were both inside, Liz started the car, while Jace leaned forward to turn on the radio.

 

"I'm swearing if I go there now, I could change your mind, turn it all around.."

 

Lizzie looked at her radio, then at Jace. He had closed his eyes and rested his head on the window. Lizzie wanted nothing more than to touch his face, to hold him in her arms, to tell him everything will be okay, that she'll make everything okay...

 

"I wanted words but all I heard was nothing..."

 

She looked away from him, the hurt on her chest pressing on her eyelids, and started to drive.