The chemicals are restless in my head...

Exiting onto Elmwood again, Jared laced his fingers through mine and pulled me against him, his momentary jealousy and discomfort having already disappeared.

We walked Elmwood all the way down to Home of the Hits, stopping in between at Damsel in a Dress, Everything Elmwood, Neighborhood Collective, Plum Pudding, Shoe Fly, Talking Leaves, and Urban Clothing Co.

We spent a long time in Talking Leaves, Jared delighting in the idea of an independent book store. He must have looked at every single shelf twice before I pulled him out of there, a bag containing a Buddhism book and Frida Kahlo calendar hanging contentedly from his fingers.

When we were in Damsel in a Dress, he made me come out and show him every dress I tried on. Amused, I did as he said and blushed as he repeatedly complimented me.

Nothing stood out to me until the end. It was the only hanger I had left in the dressing room. I almost didn’t try it on, frustrated with my inability to find something I loved. The store had always had something new and perfect every time I went in, but this time seemed a failure.

I chewed on my lip as I looked at the last article. My eyes traveled along the dark red ribbon tracing the boning down the torso. The entire thing appeared hand-sewn in red and white thread, stark against the black fabric. I picked it up and turned it around, my eyes drawn to the thicker ribbon lacing up the back. I grinned, knowing I had to put it on.

Before emerging, I pulled on my jeans and poked my head around the curtain. I called the saleswoman over, asking her into the dressing room to fully lace me up, tight. Jared would have happily done it, but I didn’t want him to see it until the end. The woman smiled when she was done and told me it fit perfectly. I knew she was just trying to sell it, but she was right. It was perfect.

Grinning, I pushed the curtain to the side and stepped into the store. Jared immediately got up from the ottoman he was sitting on while he waited. There was something different in his eyes this time, different than the dresses I had put on.

"Is that...a corset?" he asked as he walked towards me. A smile was playing on the corners of his mouth.
I gave a small nod, trying to decipher his eyes. There was a heat to them, a lust I rarely saw. I watched as his eyes traveled from my bare shoulders, across my chest, and to my waist before returning his gaze to mine. Desire.

"You are gorgeous," he said slowly, quietly.

I blushed and crossed my arms across my chest, embarrassed for reasons I didn’t know. "Thanks," I said, focusing on the floor.

He leaned down and kissed my gently, pulling my head up, before pushing me back into the dressing room, a warm glow in his eyes.

"Take it off and hand it out to me," he said through the curtain.

"Why?" I asked, the hanger in my hand.

"Because I’m buying it."

"What?!"

"I’m buying it," he said slower.

"Nuh uh."

"Mmm hmm."

"Jared, I don’t want you to buy it for me."

"Who said it’s for you?" I could hear the tease in his voice, but my mouth immediately fell open. Closing it, I handed it to him around the edge of the curtain. I pulled my shirt back over my head and slipped my jacket on before emerging. Jared was at the counter, money in hand.

I walked up beside him and kissed him lightly on the cheek, blushing as the saleswoman watched us, an entertained smile upon her face. With his change in hand, I swept the black bag delightedly from the counter and followed Jared out of the store.

After stops at Shoe Fly, where Jared insisted again on buying me a pair of shoes to go with the corset, and then the Lexington Co-op, where I bought my favorite granola I had been missing and a couple blueberry muffins, we finally stopped at Hero and purchased a few posters before returning to the apartment.

When we walked in the door, Shannon was sprawled out across the couch, a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. He was flipping absentmindedly through the channels, not paying much attention to anything, but he immediately jumped up when he heard us enter.

"Took you long enough," he said irritably as he walked over.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were down at Kevin's," I asked.

"Yeah, I was, but then I went for a walk, and I just ended up back here. Keys bro?"

Jared tossed him the keys and started to ask where he was going, but the door closed behind him before he could get the words out. He glanced at me and I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't care, Jared and I had the apartment to ourselves now. We carried the bags into the bedroom, but I left them piled in front of the closet doors.

"Still feeling sick?" Jared asked from the doorway.

"Thankfully, no," I said. "I could go for some lunch though."

"In or out?"

"Out, I think. We don't really have anything here except granola and muffins."

So we walked back outside and down a couple of blocks to Mighty Taco. Yes, it was fast food, but it was the most delicious Mexican fast food you could find...in the country. Most definitely better than Taco Bell. Not to mention cheap.

After two bean burritos each, we walked back up the street to the apartment, bickering about how to spend the rest of the afternoon before dinner and going out again with Kevin and Sarah. I wanted to watch a movie, but he didn't want to let me, predicting that I would fall asleep.

But I won the argument and we settled on the couch to watch Magnolia.

As Jared predicted, I fell asleep only half an hour into the movie, my head resting in his lap. When I woke up, it was noticeably darker in the room. The clock read 5:17. I turned onto my back and looked up at Jared. He had fallen asleep too, his torso slumped to the side at almost ninety degrees with his head against the armrest. I suppressed a laugh and quietly sat up. I stretched and shut the television off. As soon as I did, Jared stirred. He frowned slightly and his hand felt around where my head had just been, searching for my hair or any part of me that told him I was still there. When he didn't find it, he slowly blinked his eyes open and straightened up.

"Fuck, my back," he muttered quietly, then looked over at me.

"Hypocrite," I shot at him.

"What?" he mumbled, still half asleep.

I grinned, but tried to look as scornful as possible. "You didn't want to watch a movie because you said I would fall asleep. But YOU DID TOO. So ha." I stuck out my tongue at him.

He seemed fully awake now, and he leaned over and grabbed me around the waist before I could move out of the way. "You fell asleep first," he said simply, his hands making a move to tickle me.

But I twisted away and fell onto the floor.

"Oomphugh," I grumbled as my elbow collided with the foot of the couch. I heard him laughing above me and crawled away from his feet before standing. "Not cool," I said indignantly.

"It's not like I pushed you," he said, hands held up in defense.

I wrinkled my nose at him and made for the bedroom. "An hour till we leave," I called over my shoulder. But as soon as I was in the room, arms grabbed me from behind and tossed me onto the bed.

"Jesus Christ!" I exploded. "I think I just had a fucking heart attack."

"Are we feeling dramatic this evening?" Jared asked, his voice teasing.

I pouted, crossing my arms across my chest. He pounced onto the bed beside me, but before I could retaliate in any way, his arm was around my back and his lips were forcefully pressed against mine. I slowly reclined until he was above me. His fingers were already toying with the bottom of my shirt when I scooted out from beneath him. He collapsed on the bed and growled lowly at me.

"We have to get ready to go!" I said in response to his stare.

He still didn't move.

"Come on, please? This is our last night here..."

His annoyed, defiant persona fell as he realized the emotion behind my words. He could tell I was reluctant about having to leave tomorrow. He got up from the bed and walked over to me in front of the closet. I watched him approach, my emotions growing quickly and threatening to spill. He slid his arms around me and pulled me tightly against him. I nuzzled my head into his neck, absorbing his support and empathy. After a few long moments, he pulled away, kissed me lightly on the forehead, and disappeared through the bedroom door without a word.

When he had left, I reminded myself that I still had this night. This night to be with my friends, and the next morning to see Eva again. And then I would be going back to my other home, with Jared and my other family, in LA. And it would be okay.

Sighing heavily, I rummaged through my closet while I decided what exactly I wanted to do that night, determining what clothes I wore. Of the few clothes that were still there and not in California, I pulled out a black and white striped v-neck sweater. Shedding my Inspi(RED) t-shirt from earlier that day, I pulled it over my head. I took off the guitar pick necklace and fastened the turquoise one on instead, matching the ring already on my finger. I swept my hair back, sticking a few turquoise clips in to hold back stray pieces, and stepped into a pair of turquoise heels I had bought earlier. No dancing tonight, but I still felt the need to dress up.

I exited the bedroom and sat next to Jared at a stool in the kitchen. He glanced away from his laptop and looked me up and down, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You look wonderful," he said softly. "Where are we going?"

"Chippewa," I said hesitantly.

His face immediately darkened, in surprise and concern, not anger. "You sure?"

I looked away, not wanting to answer. But he silently demanded one. "No, honestly, I’m not sure. But I can’t avoid it for the rest of my life when I’m come back here to visit. It’s a part of the city I love that I frequent with my friends. I’m going to avoid Quote, but I can’t avoid the street, the atmosphere. We’re going to go to SoHo. No dancing, just drinks."

He seemed unsure, not wanting to believe me. But again, he knew this night meant a lot to me, so he shrugged it off. "Alright, when are we leaving?"

"I don’t know, I’ll call Sarah," I said reaching over him for the phone. She picked up after the first ring.

"Darling, where are you? We’ve been waiting for you to call."

"We just got back and got changed," I said laughing. "You guys want to come down here before we go out? It’s a little early yet."

"Yeah, sure, fifteen minutes," Sarah responded, abruptly disconnecting the call.

I stared at the receiver in wonder for a few moments before laughing again and hanging it up. "Fifteen minutes," I said to Jared in answer to his quizzical look. He just nodded and turned back to his laptop. What he was doing I didn’t know, but I left him to it, settling on the couch with the remote until Sarah and Kevin arrived.

Jared answered the door when they knocked, leaving his laptop to collapse next to me on the couch, Sarah and Kevin settling on the opposite couch.

"Where we going?" Sarah asked.

"I was thinking SoHo," I said, anticipating a reaction something like, ‘What?! No dancing?!’ Luckily, her reaction was the opposite.

"Cool, cool," was all she said. Apparently she had been hoping for an answer like that, for she too was not in her usual dancing clothes. "Ooooo cute shoes!" she exclaimed, the bright turquoise attracting her gaze.

"Thanks," I said grinning. "Shoe Fly, of course."

"Of course," she repeated, wrinkling her nose. She preferred the numerous shoe stores in the mall, but Shoe Fly would always be my favorite. More than 2/3 of the shoes in my collection were found there, and Sarah had always borrowed my shoes when I lived full-time in Buffalo, but she would never admit that she liked them. She could have a lot of pride and determination sometimes.

I shook myself out of the nostalgia and got up, grabbing two beers and two bottles of water from the refrigerator. Returning, I handed the beers to Kevin and Sarah and one of the water bottles to Jared before sitting back down beside him. There was something in the atmosphere, something almost tangible. I was apprehensive about seeing Eva tomorrow, and I was sad about having to leave. I could tell Sarah and Kevin were feeling the same things I was. And Jared, well, I couldn’t read him as easily as always. He was an emotional cocktail, I could tell. I guessed he missed his house, his dogs, his city, but he was happy to be here with me as well. I could tell he was anxious to get back and didn’t necessarily want to go out tonight, but he was going to be supportive for me. He knew the next day wouldn’t be easy in any way. We were all a little withdrawn, quiet.

Just then, Jared’s blackberry rang, breaking the silence. I immediately recognized the separate ringtone that indicated a call from his brother. I looked at Jared as he answered.

"Hey Shan. Where are you?...Okay…We’re going out in a little while, but we’ll wait."

"What?" I asked him when he hung up.

"I don’t know where he was," Jared said shrugging, "but he’s on his way back to the hotel. He said he was going to shower and then come over if we’re going to be around. So I said we’d wait."

I glanced at the clock. 7:30. We had plenty of time. "Absolutely," I said. "Now let’s watch Jeopardy." I grabbed the remote off of the coffee table, stealing a glance at Sarah. It had been a tradition with us when she had worked at Salvatore’s too for a few months. Our shifts on Tuesdays ended at 7:00, so she would come over, we would have a drink, and then watch Jeopardy at 7:30. There was a smile on her face that surely matched mine as we both remembered the tradition.

By the time Jeopardy was over, Shannon was there, sitting comfortably on the other side of me on the couch, beer in hand. I waited until he finished, then stood up. Everyone immediately followed, assuming it was time to go.

We exited the apartment and started walking towards Chippewa. As we went, I held tightly to Jared’s gloved hand, flashing back to my walk to Quote just a few nights before. He must have sensed my anxiety, because he pulled on my hand, bringing my body closer against his, his pace falling into step with mine.

When we reached SoHo, I relaxed a little bit. We found a table in the back and ordered drinks. When they came, I decided my vodka would be my only drink that night. I wanted to enjoy it, remember it, not have drunken bits and pieces of memories of the night. With the way I was feeling, not wanting to leave, I knew that was a distinct possibility, so I chose self-control. It was a little bit self-preservation as well, knowing Jared wouldn’t be the happiest if I, at the age of 20, was completely drunk.

We stayed at SoHo for three and a half hours. It was midnight when we decided to leave, so we filed out of the bar, Sarah, Kevin, and Shannon walking ahead, Jared and I trailing behind. I stopped abruptly, Jared’s hand tugging on my wrist as he continued to walk. Realizing I wasn’t moving anymore, he stopped as well and came back to my side.

"What’s going on?" he asked quietly, glancing quickly ahead at our friends getting farther away.

"Will you do something with me?" I asked, disregarding his question. He paused, examining me, but I looked down at a crack in the sidewalk. "Please." I whispered.

"Of course," he said. He let go of my hand and ran to catch up with Shannon. I watched as they exchanged words, then Jared came back to me. I shoved my hands into my pockets and started walking back towards Chippewa. "Where are we going?" he asked as he caught back up to me.

But I didn’t answer. I shook my head and looked briefly at him, pleading. No questions. He would find out soon enough, if he didn’t already have an idea.

We turned a corner and the electric green sign came into view. Jared immediately grabbed my elbow, stopping me in my tracks.

"What happened to avoiding Quote?" he demanded.

I shrank away slightly at his harsh tone. I knew it was only him wanting to protect me, afraid for me, but the tone was not pleasant.

"I’m facing my demons," I shot back at him. It wasn’t intentional, but I was sounding harsh now too. Tension filled the air between us. He definitely didn’t want me going inside. "I need to do this," I said, my words not leaving any room for debate. I pulled my arm from his grasp, my hands leaving my pockets. "I’m going in there, whether you come with me or not. But it would probably be better if you did," I said, softening my tone.

His gaze was still hard, but I stood my ground, waiting to see what he was going to do. He briefly paced in a small circle as I watched, his hands running through his hair. He stopped and looked at me, checking to make sure I really was serious, then took my hand in his. He wasn’t happy about it, but he was still going to support me.

Reassured, I walked through the door into the dark club. Immediately the mediocre music filled my ears while my eyes adjusted to the dim light. I felt Jared close behind me as the crowd influenced our direction, but I pushed through, my destination the back corner.

I felt Jared pull back on my hand as I reached the door, trying one last time to stop me, but nothing was going to stop me. I needed this.

I pushed through the door and felt Jared’s hand drop from mine. A part of me wondered if he was going to stay outside, but I was too preoccupied to dwell.

I froze as the door swung closed behind me. There he was, standing in the corner. A menacing grin on his face, he recognized me. But he remained silent. I dropped my gaze from his, afraid he would pull me in before I could stop myself, with Jared right outside the door. I looked to the floor, the discarded needles making me nauseous. There were two girls passed out in the corner. I looked closer and realized they were the same two girls from my previous visit. I used to be them, I thought. Here every night. And immediately I started flashing back. Not to three nights before, but to the numerous, countless nights I had spent there, in the corner, after Dan died. Passed out, or in a daze. Trying to be numb, take away the pain. Trying to feel alive, invincible. Forever wanting the bliss and perfection you could only attain if you reached the high. I started pacing, out of touch with my surroundings. My head was spinning, as memory upon memory, vision upon vision of that bathroom floor flashed before my eyes at the speed of light. It was dizzying. The pain I felt on those nights came rushing back in an instant, and I wanted the high again. I wanted it all.

Suddenly, I crashed into something. Something that wrapped its arms around me, holding me still. Faintly, I heard yelling around me. Somebody wasn’t happy.

I started drifting back to the present, the memories fading but the desire for a ziploc bag from the man in the corner still strong.

It was Jared, that’s who was holding me. And he was yelling at the man in the corner. Was I crying? Yes, I was. I started laughing, then slowly tuned into the argument.

"You can’t be in here!" the man was shouting. "This is a women’s bathroom!"

"You’re a man!" Jared yelled back. "A despicable excuse for a fucking human being!"

The man rolled his eyes and dismissed the comment. "Is she going to buy, or what? Are you?"

"NO! SHE’S NOT GOING TO FUCKING BUY, AND NEITHER AM I!" Jared screamed even louder.

"Yes I am," I said through my laughs.

Jared looked down at me, not aware I was back in the present. He blinked at my comment before responding. "No, you’re not," he said forcefully.

"Okay," I answered simply, still laughing.

I was there, but I wasn’t. I was easily influenced, and Jared could tell. Obviously, my idea had been a bad one, so he led me out of the bathroom and through the club quickly, his hands never leaving my arms.

We walked back to the apartment in silence. He held onto me, most likely out of fear I would turn around and try to go back. His grip was rough, forceful. As I slowly came completely back to the world from whatever trance my flashbacks had put me in, I sensed his anger. But it was more than that. It was disappointment. I had disappointed him. And I started crying silently all over again.

When we reached the apartment and the door was safely closed and locked, he finally let me go. I walked directly into the bedroom, kicked off my heels, and buried myself in the covers. I felt awful, like I had let him down. Like I wasn’t strong enough to handle the shit I needed to handle. I was a disappointment.

I felt his weight on the bed beside me, but I didn’t bring my head above the covers. We stayed there for a long time, me hiding, him waiting, until we both were calm. Or at least, calmer.

I felt him tug at the sheets, so I released my grip and let him pull them down. My head level with his chest, I tipped it up, searching for his eyes. When I found them, I saw they were filled with apology. Concern and fear were there too.

"I can’t face my demons," I whispered, barely audible. "I can’t do it."

"It’s okay," he said quietly. He pulled me against him and I buried my head in his chest. "It’s okay," I heard him whisper again, his fingers running through my hair.

Emotionally exhausted, I almost immediately passed out.

I woke up and it was dark. The moon was coming in the window, throwing light across Jared’s face. The rest of the room I couldn’t see.

Why am I awake?

My stomach twisted.

Vaguely aware of sweat dripping from my forehead as I lifted my head from Jared’s chest, I began shivering violently. The room began to spin and I lost focus. I groped my way to the edge of the bed, trying to be quiet and not drag the sheets with me. I fell off the edge of the bed and landed in a rather awkward position on the floor. Despite my efforts, I let out a moan, the pain of falling and the nausea becoming too much to hold back. I managed to rise to my feet, the cold sweat running down my back while my body felt as though it were on fire. Stumbling to the bathroom, I collapsed on the cool tile floor, pressing every inch of my skin against it that I could. I blinked a few times, willing the spinning sensation to go away, but it only got worse. Groaning again, I pulled myself up on the edge of the toilet and rested my chin on the ceramic bowl until my stomach twisted again, more violently, and emptied itself of what was left of my dinner. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and let my torso fall to the floor again. The hair glued with sweat to my forehead and face were beginning to annoy me, the feel of them making my skin crawl. But I was too weak to do anything about it. "Shit," I managed to mutter as I rolled over onto my stomach. I couldn’t stop shivering, but I felt like I was being burned alive. I pulled myself up to lean over the toilet again, the beginnings of another purge making themselves known. I felt hands appear on my shoulders, then in my hair, finally peeling if off of my skin. I opened my mouth to thank him, to apologize, or tell him to go back to bed, but another bout of bile poured forth before I could. Weak, I fell back against him and he laid me down, the cold tile beginning to relieve the inexplicable heat overwhelming every cell of my skin. A blanket was draped over me, my body still naked from earlier that night. I heard the water running in the sink once, twice, three times. First, a cold washcloth was laid on my forehead. Then a damp towel cleaned off my mouth and the hand that had previously wiped my mouth. He sat me up and brought a glass of water in front of my face. I tried to take it from him, but my hand was shaking, so he lifted it to my lips. He set it down on the floor beside me and I realized I could focus again. The spinning was slowing.

"Thank you," I said finally.

"What happened?" he asked, still holding the washcloth against my forehead.

"I don’t know. Food poisoning. Flu. I don’t care, it’s going away I think." I closed my eyes, waiting for the nausea to pass. Able to sit up by myself, I held the blanket across my chest and Jared’s hand moved from supporting my shoulder to running up and down my bare back.
I turned to look at him and he let the washcloth drop. "Go back to bed."

"What are you going to do?"

"Stay here, in case it comes back."

"And you expect me to leave you here? Abandon you?" he asked incredulously.

"Well...no... but I thought it was worth a try." I wished he would go back to bed. I could do this on my own. And a throwing-up girl isn’t exactly the most attractive.

But he shook his head and stood, exiting the bathroom only to return a few moments later, boxers in hand. He pulled them on and sat down against the cabinets, reaching forward to pull me back against him. I wrapped the blanket tightly around us and curled into a ball on his lap, smiling as he rested his chin on top of my head. My eyes closed as I ignored the nausea and headache still present. Soon, I was in dreamland.

- - -

I slowly became aware of fingers tracing up and down my arm. Smiling, I stirred, pressing closer against him before settling again. I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid the room would start spinning again. The nausea wasn’t completely gone.

But reluctantly, I did. I wanted to see the man who had taken care of me during the night. I blinked a few times, focusing on the sunlight filling the bathroom, before looking up at him.

"Hello gorgeous," he said sleepily. He tipped his head down and pressed his lips to mine.

"Good morning," I said against his mouth before he kissed me again.

"Ew, gross," he said, pulling away and making a face.

I laughed, I couldn’t help myself. "I know. But you kissed me, and I wasn’t about to complain." I pulled myself up on the edge of the counter, letting the blanket fall to the floor, and grabbed my toothbrush. "At least you’re not the one that was throwing up," I shot down at him.

He made a face and started blowing a stead stream of air onto the back of my calf. Immediately goosebumps spread over my body. I spit into the sink and kicked him lightly in the side before rinsing and running into the bedroom before he could grab my leg and stop me.

I dove onto the bed and nestled into the sheets. I didn’t have any intention of going back to sleep, but Jared didn’t know that. I buried my head in a pillow and closed my eyes. I heard him exit the bathroom and cross the bedroom to my bed. I could feel his weight on the end of the bed, moving closer as he presumably crawled across the sheets.

And then there was nothing. He wasn’t moving, I couldn’t feel anything. Until he flopped down on top of me. I grunted and immediately pushed against the mattress, trying to lift myself and his dead weight, but it was useless. I was pinned.

"Asshat," I said, trying to sound as menacing as possible.

He laughed and I felt his body shake on top of me. "What is it with you and asshat? That’s the second time in 20 hours."

"Hey, it’s better than asshole, alright? Shut up and get the fuck off of me."

"No," he said stubbornly. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear the malicious grin on his face. The 5-year-old was back. I couldn’t help but smile.

"Get off!"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No."

"I’ll love you forever."

"No."

"Asshat."

"No."

"Sex."

"No."

"Then I’m going to sleep."

"No....Wait, what?"

"Shhhhhh."

"No!"

I closed my eyes and didn’t say anything.

"Laura?"

I still didn’t move.

I felt his hand reach for my hair, removing it from my neck. I knew what was coming before I even felt his lips against my skin. Almost immediately, they found my tease. The spot on my neck where I couldn’t maintain control. Failing at staying silent, I whimpered quietly as the heat of his body on top of mine didn’t stop the chills running down every inch of my skin.

He pulled away and laughed softly, lifting his body off of mine and laying down on the mattress beside me. I kept my eyes closed and pulled the sheets tighter around me. My bangs were swept away from my eyes and I finally opened them. He was staring at me intently.

"What?" I asked quietly.

He gave a small shrug of his shoulder and ran his tongue along his bottom lip. The simple act again awakened a hunger that was never satisfied, and ever muscle of my abdomen clenched. I scooted slightly closer to him and lifted the sheets, letting him in. He moved closer as well, but maintained distance, not letting himself touch me.

I chewed on my lip momentarily before whispering, "Jared."

"Hmm…" he murmured.

"Talk to me."

"About what?"

"Don’t avoid."

He blinked at me, surprised by how forward I was being.

"Please Jared…"

He sighed and licked his lips again. "Last night, we made love…"

I made a face and he stopped. It was a phrase I didn’t like. Cliché and maybe even fitting, but always sounding wrong, forced, uncomfortable.

"We made love," he continued, "and it was…"

"…breathtaking…"

"…among other things. We were together, and we were perfect." I smiled and nodded, wanting nothing more than to kiss him at that moment. But he wasn’t finished. "But then you woke up and you could barely stand. You were physically ill. I’m just…what if it wasn’t food poisoning?"

I quickly analyzed his words, trying to decipher, figure out where he was coming from and where he was going. But I came up with nothing. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"What if…I’m afraid…it was some sort of reaction to…us."

I was speechless. "Um, us?"

"I don’t know," he mumbled, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Just, what if your body’s trying to tell you something?"

"Like what?" I was still completely and utterly confused.

He squirmed a little and brushed the hair out of his face before answering. "I don’t know exactly. Like, your body knows you don’t want to be…here…but your brain doesn’t recognize it. So your body is trying to tell your brain that."

Body versus brain immediately took me back to the club bathroom. A place I didn’t want to go. Ever again. "What exactly do you mean by ‘here’? Here with you, or here in Buffalo visiting Eva?"

"I don’t know."

"Yes, you do."

He paused. "Here with me," he said, barely audible.

"Jared!" I said, my tone growing louder. He jumped, startled at the change in volume, and his eyes widened. "How could you…where is this coming from?" I asked, abruptly sitting up, holding the sheet around my chest.

"I don’t know," he said, growing frustrated. He rolled onto his back and started staring at the ceiling. "It’s just something I started thinking about when you were sleeping in the bathroom."

"You weren’t sleeping?"

"Not very much."

"Sorry," I said quietly.

"I know it’s probably unfounded fear, but I can’t make it go away," he said.

"Listen to me," I demanded, turning to face him. "I know things were barely okay between us before this happened and we came back here. But, even when things weren’t okay, it didn’t mean I didn’t want to be with you. And it most definitely doesn’t mean that now. There is nowhere in the world I’d rather be, and not with any other person." He smiled, slightly reassured. "Sometimes, it doesn’t feel real," I continued. "Like, can this really be? Am I in love, living with and in a relationship with Jared Leto? THE Jared Leto? But then I see you…wherever. Sitting with your laptop on the couch, or laying in bed like you are now, and I know. It’s real, and it’s everything I want. Maybe I just don’t tell you that enough."

Now he seemed completely reassured. "Words are underrated these days," he said. "Things like the things you just said, they should be said more often. By everyone." He smiled delightedly. "But I guess for the in between times, a simple I love you will do." He reached out and pulled me down against him again.

I started giggling as he rolled to his side and leaned over me, threatening to drop his entire weight on me again. I slid a hand around his neck and pulled his head down to mine for a quick kiss that he turned into something longer.

"What was this you said about sex?" he asked when he pulled away, raising an eyebrow.

"Nuh uh," I said, shaking my head for conviction. "You missed your chance."

He stuck out his lower lip and cocked his head to the side. It was having an effect, but I held my ground. He whined and closed the distance between us, nuzzling against my neck again. I squirmed and twisted away from him, laughing, before he could send chills through me again.

"Stop," I complained. "Come on, let’s do something."

He wiggled his eyebrows and leaned down to kiss me again.

"Not that!" I squirmed away again. "I mean, let’s go somewhere. This is the only full day we have here, I want to do something."

He groaned and leaned back, propping his head up on his arm. "You ruin all my fun," he pouted.

I stuck out my tongue and sat up. "What should we do?" I asked, more to myself than anything else.

"I don’t know, this is your town, your choice," he said in defeat, rolling onto his back.

I chewed on my lips for a few minutes, thinking. There were so many choices and what seemed like so little time. "We need a car," I said, deciding on at least the first thing we could do.

"I’ll call Shan," he said, getting up and heading for his jeans, pulling his blackberry out of the pocket.

I got up as well, disappearing into the bathroom for a shower.

- - -

When I emerged, a towel wrapped around me, Jared was already half-dressed and rubbing a towel through his hair. Surprised, I stood blinking at him for a few moments.

"Other bathroom," he said in explanation.

I dropped the towel and walked to the closet, watching as Jared’s eyes followed me. I laughed and shook my head. He really couldn’t get his mind off of it.

I pulled on my black jeans and INSPI(RED) t-shirt. I laced my converse and grabbed the white skull jacket from the previous night before turning around and straightening up. Jared was sitting on the bed, looking intently at something on the screen of his blackberry. He had a fedora on top of his head, black to match his jeans, and a plain grey sweater. His trenchcoat was thrown across his lap. I noticed the leather wristband on his left wrist and immediately smiled. Rummaging through my bag, I clasped the silver guitar pick around my neck and walked to the door.

"Ready?" I asked.

He looked up from his blackberry and grinned at me. "Absolutely," he said, bouncing off the bed and to my side. He snaked his arm around my waist and led me to the door. "Shannon should be here any second with the car. He’s going to walk down to Kevin’s, hang there till we get back."

We exited the building and found the car idling in front. Shannon was leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his leather jacket on his chest. I saw his drumsticks peeking out of his back pocket. I gave him a hug hello and ran around to the driver’s side, jumping into the car.

I heard Jared talking to Shannon outside the car. "Hey, listen. We won’t be late, okay? Here’s the spare key to the apartment," he said, motioning toward the building behind us. "If you don’t want to hang out at Kevin’s the whole time, you can go there."

"Thanks bro," Shannon said. "Have fun!" He waved at us as we pulled away.

"Why are you driving?" Jared whined as I turned the corner onto Delaware.

"Because I know where we’re going," I said pointedly. "Driving myself is so much easier than giving directions."

"Fine," he said in mock annoyance.

I punched the power button on the dash, turning on the radio and tuning it to 102.1 The Edge. Canadian rock, and the best station you could get in most parts of Buffalo or Ontario. I turned onto Elmwood and pulled into the parking lot of Globe Market.

"What’s this?" Jared asked, peering out the windshield.

"This," I said motioning with my hand, "is Globe Market. Wonderful food. And right over there is a yoga place. I took a couple lessons there…two years ago I think."

He grinned at me and got out of the car, tying his coat around his waist. I followed.

I dragged him out of the parking lot and across the street during a break in the passing traffic. Spotting one of my favorite stores ahead, I pulled him into New World Records in a state of blissful happiness.

"This," I said, motioning around the cavernous shop, "is easily my favorite record store in the world. If you can still call it a record store..." I trailed off as I took in the warehouse atmosphere the place had, looking up at the tall ceilings and cement walls. I loved it. "People don’t call them that anymore, do they?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Sadly, no."

"It’s a shame really. Because, you can actually buy real records here. It’s vinyl heaven." I led him around a short wall to a small alcove that was the home to both new and old artists, all re-produced on vinyl. "I had this routine a couple years ago," I began telling him. "I would go to the co-op, which I will show you later, then go right over there," I said pointing through a doorway, "to Spot Coffee, get the drink of my choice, and spend hours here trying to decide what to buy. Every Friday, because I didn’t work Friday’s, that’s how I would spend my afternoon." My voice consistently grew softer as I continued, nostalgia taking over. Part of me missed my routine.

Shaking off the feeling, I started flipping through the stack of albums in front of me. My eyes fell on Picaresque, easily my favorite album by The Decemberists, and I held it up triumphantly. Jared laughed and flipped through another stack until he found what he was looking for.

"Now couldn’t you go for this?" he asked, holding up one by Depeche Mode.

"Mmmm, not so much," I said grinning. "Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, beats The Decemberists playing on a turntable. Oooo except maybe The Beatles or something classic like that. And if you ask me, Depeche Mode is not classic. At least not vinyl classic."

"How do you figure?" he asked indignantly. "They have been around a hell of a lot longer than The Decemberists," he said pointing at the cover of the record he held.

I rolled my eyes at him, determined to make him see my side. "Classic isn’t just old. Classic is...classic," I said. There was no other word to describe it. "It’s a sound, not a length of time." I stopped, examining him to see if he believed me yet or not. But there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. He had something to say.

"Twenty-seven years," he said. "Fucking twenty-seven years, millions of records, and innovative recording. Plus, they’re English. Nothing beats English." He knew as well as I did that the last part was ridiculous. But he didn’t care.

I threw my hands up in the air and started pacing. "SOUND," I repeated. "Depeche Mode is...electronic. Futurist, if you will. Techno even, a lot of synthesized shit." He opened his mouth in frustration but I forged ahead. "The Decemberists, on the other hand –"

"- Are indie pop!" he interrupted.

I blinked, not prepared for that. "Okay, yes. They’re indie-pop. Or at least that’s what they’re being called. But LISTEN to it. It’s folk rock. Now, both folk and rock have been around a lot longer than electronic. Their songs tell fucking STORIES," I said. "How many bands do you know that tell real stories?! Mariner’s Revenge Song for Christ’s fucking sake. It’s a nine minute storytelling phenomenon. Oh AND, they’re literate. I’m not saying you’re not, because you are. You’re one of the more literate songwriters out there, but they use words like fucking parapets, legionnaire, rhapsodical, folderol, and magistrate. Oooo and debonair. It’s like sea chanteys all over the place. And how about the fact that they play stand-up bass, organ, and accordion, along with a few other things I don’t know the names of." I stopped, breathing heavily but determined to respond to anything he came back with.

But Jared didn’t say anything. He stood staring at me, barely concealing a smile and a laugh. "You’re crazy," he said simply. "You really know your music, don’t you?"

"I try..." I said cautiously, a bit taken aback.

"I can see I’m not going to win this one," he said, moving forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. "So go ahead, buy it. Not another word from me." He smiled and leaned down to kiss me.

I smiled back triumphantly. "Good choice," I said simply. I plucked the Depeche Mode record from his hand and tucked it under my arm with Picaresque before pulling away from him to explore the rest of the store. It had been months since I had been there. He followed me around contentedly, watching as I picked up and discarded things repeatedly. Finally I settled on the newest Nine Inch Nails, Feist, and Finger Eleven CDs to go with the two vinyl records and a white spike belt from a rack in the corner. Jared reminded me that there was more than one store I wanted to take him to today, so I reluctantly agreed to pay.

As I approached the empty counter, my eyes were drawn to the guy standing behind it, his chin resting on his hand as he watched me approach.

"Shit," I said aloud in wonder.

He just smiled and didn’t move. I dropped my stuff on the counter and stared at him in disbelief.

"Hello to you too," he said.

"Oh right, hi." I blinked at him a few times, trying to process. Then I noticed his gaze focused on something over my shoulder. I turned around and snapped back to reality. "Oh, John, this is –"

"Jared Leto, I know," he said interrupting. "Surprised to see you around here."

"Yeah…and Jared, this is John."

They shook hands politely, but I could tell that Jared was a bit uncomfortable. I felt bad, but no discomfort was felt on my part. Standing before me was a guy I hadn’t seen in two years, someone who had meant a lot to me the last time I had seen him.

"How’ve you been?" I asked, a smile slowly spreading across my face at last.

"Pretty good," he said as he began cashing me out. "Still going to UB, design major. I work here as often as they’ll let me. There’s no better place to work in the city."

"What happened to Hero?" I asked surprised. "I thought you loved it there, it was perfect!"

He winced and shrugged his shoulders. "Artistic differences? I like creative control, and I wasn’t the one in charge so, it didn’t work."
I laughed and shook my head. Stubborn, that was the John I knew. Stubborn and loveable.

"Damn, that’s really too bad. I wanted a couple posters. But, now I’ll have to go and actually PAY for them." I made a face, pretending to be upset.

"Was that you, over in the vinyl?" he asked teasing. He knew me and my knowledge of music, and my ability to defend it.

I blushed and picked at a fingernail. "Yeah, that was me. Decemberists vs. Depeche Mode."

"Depeche Mode," he said immediately.

Immediately enraged, I opened my mouth to start ranting again but clamped it shut again, deciding against it.  I just glared at him instead.

As the total appeared on the cash register, Jared pulled some money out of his pocket and handed it to John. "You know," John said, getting the change, "We should get together sometime. Catch up."

"Absolutely. But, I’m living in LA most of the time now. Next time I’m home, around Christmas maybe, I’ll come see you, we can get some coffee or something."

"Fantastic," John said, handing me the bag and Jared the change. "Good to see you."

"You too," I said waving, walking backwards from the counter and smiling.

Jared laced his fingers through mine and I turned around, walking with him through the connecting doorway into Spot Coffee. We ordered, both just a cup of coffee, and sat down facing each other at a table against the window. I took a sip of my coffee black before adding a tiny bit of sugar and milk. I looked up and Jared was looking at me, his gaze hard.

"What?"

"Who was that?" he asked, wrapping his hands around his cup.

I took another sip before answering, not sure if he would like the answer or not. "That was John."

"So I gathered," he said impatiently.

I blinked. "Jealous?"

"Should I be?"

"Well," I said taking a deep breath. "No actually. He was my boyfriend when Dan…He didn’t get it when I fell apart. He tried to help, tried to distract me. Tried to get me to talk to him. But instead, I just…stopped. I broke up with him. And then I went to the club, and everything went to shit." I rushed through the last part, trying not to revisit it.

I watched as Jared changed from being on-edge to experiencing something resembling realization. He smiled softly at me. "What?" I asked.

"I’m seeing a parallel here."

"What are you talking about?" I was thoroughly confused.

"He tried to get you to talk to him, and you broke up with him. I tried to get you to talk to me, and you pushed me away."

I bit my lip and stared into my coffee. It was a blatant connection that I had managed to ignore. I knew destruction was a pattern, but I never liked linking it to something in the past. It was…uncomfortable, to say the least.
"Yeah, I know," I said quietly. I looked up at him, meeting his eyes, pleading. Let’s drop it, I was trying to say.

He thankfully decided to comply with my silent request. "What’s Hero?" he asked.

"Hero," I said smiling, "is a graphic design studio. They do a lot of design things, like webpages and shit, but my favorite stuff is the posters and shirts they do for bands. It’s fucking fantastic. John used to get me posters for free, of whatever I wanted…when he worked there."

"Can we go?" Jared asked. Being an artist, he was intrigued, I could tell.

"Absolutely. It’s over on Allen Street, so we’ll have to drive, but we can go after we’re done here."

We finished our coffee in silence as I happily examined the newest addition to my vinyl collection. Throwing the cups away, I was determined to show him all of my favorite stores, and we walked back out onto Elmwood Ave.