Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Excepts idea.

Rob Shapiro
by BigBenMitchell

I wake up every morning and look to my left only to found that nobody is besides me. I don't care, really but something deep inside of me stir because there is supposed to be somebody there, but isn't. I tried not to think a lot of it, but sometimes I can't help it.

I will sit up on my bed and sighs, another day to go. I try not to think of his brown eyes or his large smile or his awkward jokes, but it comes through my mind eventually. Sometimes I have to hold myself from crying, because I can't cry. I will not cry. Not again. I walk to my bathroom and wash my face. I look at myself through the mirror. It's just the same, eight years ago, I still look the same. I wonder if he's watching over us, like everyone says so. I hope he does. I hope he's happy of what we've become.

I go to my kitchen and prepare breakfast. In just a few more minutes, he will come down and join me. Just like I expected, he comes down. He's in his pjs and is rubbing his eyes. He smiles when he sees me. "Hi mommy," he said with his cheeky smile as he sits down on one of the stools.

His dark brown curls and large smiles remind me of his father, the one I try so hard not to think of. Maybe that's why I think of him a lot. I shouldn't. But the again, that's mostly why I have this little boy. So there's still a little bit of him left in the world. Even if it's just a little bit, as long as it's in this world I would be satisfied. And I'm glad I'm the one who gave this young boy his life. Maybe it's a good thing he looks pretty much like his father, or maybe that's bad, it doesn't matter. He's here. I glance at his face for a while and smile warmly. Even though 80% of his face is from his father, he still has my blue eyes. It's that little insignificant little detail that made me notice him first among the babies behind the glass window when he was born, alongside with his small curl. "Good morning, Rob," I tell him over my shoulder as I flip the pancake.

In years, I would never think I would be in this situation. Cooking for a kid, a kid that is mine, in a kitchen, early in the damn morning but that's what happening now. I am cooking breakfast for my kid and I don't regret it, not for a second. Not a lot of people know this but Robert Shapiro II was born into this world out of a tragedy. He always asks about his father, who is a friend of mine, and I tell him everything about him. The same goes with my other close friends, he always ask Mr Beck, or Miss Cat or Mr Andre or Miss Tori about his father and they would tell him a whole bunch of amazing stories of his father, but no one really tells him how he dies. I wonder if the kid does know about it but never bother to tell me. Rob has always been good with guessing. Sometimes he doesn't speak of it, but he's smart enough to figure a story out. Especially if that's story if about his father.

I never really want to have kid, especially with Robbie. But I did anyway, out of guilt mostly. It's sad actually. Robbie lives a tragic life. I can still remember it like it was yesterday. I was the last one to speak with him, to see him, truly alive before... before... before he kills himself. I guess I'm lucky somehow, I don't know. But every night since then, I have been having horrible nightmares about him, about how I could save him, about how I could do something to just stop him. And out of that guilt, I go to one place I never thought I would go- a sperm bank. I knew he had donated his sperm there, he once told me or Cat had accidentally told me, I can't really remember but I went there and requested to have Robbie Shapiro's sperm. It's weird, I know. But I need something- just something to know that Robbie Shapiro isn't just going to disappear from this earth like that. I need to have a little something to remind everybody of him. And having his kid... that's not exactly little, but a good reminder nevertheless.

And just like that, after a few procedures, I was pregnant. It has been so hard carrying little Rob inside of me. I couldn't help it. I still have nightmares about Robbie, about his last moment with me. I saw him on the road and talked to him. I recall making a few jokes about a bitch somewhere and he chuckles, it's empty and not completely genuine and he kept avoiding making any eye-contact with me. I asked him, I remember, whether he's okay or not. And he nods, a little rapidly, that he's fine and he needs to go home. I nodded my head watched as he left me. I had shouted that I will see him the next day and he turned around, looked at me with such sadness that something drops inside of me and then, he disappear among the busy crowds in LA. The next day however, Beck called me. I heard Cat's crying on the background. His words are slow and shallow. Robbie's dead. He killed himself. And something sharp stabs my insides. I was the last one who he talked to. Possibly.

I screamed through the nights as I carry Rob inside of me, I remember Cat's trembling as she sees me and Beck had held me with Andre. Tori had said it's my hormones, I snapped at her a lot of course. Sometimes it doesn't even make sense, but I don't care. She has a lot of nerve trying to provoke me while I'm pregnant, especially when I have teeth as sharp as Piranhas'. I never really like her, even after all these times.

But he's born finally. Little Rob was finally born after so long. The only moment I feel that it's actually worth it is when his cry broke out after long hours of labour. The moment he's in my arm, that's even more calming. I never think I would love such a child that much, but I did and still do. He has grown up so beautifully, he learns to play guitar with Mr Andre, who is now a singer/songwriter; he learns to sing with Miss Cat, who is now a supermodel, he learns to act with Mr Beck, who is now a famous actor and a father of twins... I don't know what he learns from Tori, I don't really care honestly but I appreciate them being here when I needed them the most.

I just... sometimes I wish Robbie could be here with his own son. I know he would love him. I see him around his little sister before. His son is so beautiful... Maybe I'm speaking like this because Rob is my child but I don't care. He's the most beautiful creature in this whole wide world and if I have to go through hell just to stand by that statement, then so be it.

I remember Robbie's smile. Sometimes I tell Rob all about it. Sometimes we stay awake and we just talk about Robbie. Is it possible to love someone that's gone? I think I might have fallen in love with Robbie Shapiro, a little too late. Me, Jadelyn August West, falls in love with a dead guy. But that's okay, I guess. As long as I have Rob with me, I still have a little bit of Robbie Shapiro with me.

I look at the pancakes on the plate as I serve it on the kitchen island. I watch as my son mutters a, "thank you" before digging in. I grab a glass of milk and drink it. Maybe one day, when he asks again how did his father died; I would tell him the truth. How his father lived a tragic life, drowned by his own fear and attacked silently by his own demons and eventually found a way to escape the world in such a cruel way. Maybe I'd tell him how I have him by guilt, how hard it is to carry him and remind that the fact his father isn't there to see him and the only sight of him could calm my adrenaline rush. Maybe one day I'd tell him that I truly am in love with Robbie Shapiro, even if it's a little too late but it's going to be okay. Because Rob has Mr Beck, Mr Andre, Miss Cat, Miss Tori and maybe even my little step-brother, who Rob calls Uncle Rory that had helped me sometimes throughout my life. They say Rob has a strong heart, much stronger than mine, and he could face it.

But right now, Rob would hear me sing myself the same lyric over and over again and thinks of it as nothing. Right now, he takes the lyrics of it for granted. Right now, he doesn't know the invisible meaning in each line. And if my fingers grace on the piano and my lips sings that song, he would just sit there and listen because he doesn't understand it now... not now...

Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend,
Somewhere along the bitterness,
And I would have stayed up with you all night,
Had I known how to save a life...

I look over to him and smile. "Rob?"

He looks at me, his eyes questioning me. I step towards him and press my lips against his temple. His dark brown curls tickle my nose but I ignore it. I close my eyes because this is as close I would get to Robbie Shapiro. And as I take in the scent of my son's hair, I know it's enough for now. I wouldn't change a thing. I think he also closes his eyes as he wraps his small yet strong arms around me. "I love you, Rob. So much," say me with such tender I never knew I am capable of.

Rob nods under my chin. "I know, mommy. I know."

Don't get confused with Robbie and Rob. Robbie is the original Robbie Shapiro. Rob in this is his son. This is from Jade's POV. And yeah, I noticed on the internet that a lot of people put 'August', which also is the month when I was born, as her middle name and frankly, I think it's cool. Please, do review if you have time. I still haven't make up my mind on How To Leave Footsteps on the Sand... :( Hope you have a nice read! Yes, I know it's horrible. lol.