I miss the long drives, the car rides, the bad fights, the good times
The way you make me feel will never leave my mind.
Think of you later in my empty room
Where I, I, will fall asleep alone.
Think Of You Later (Empty Room) by Every Avenue
The day began with the stale aftertaste of alcohol in his mouth and a guilt-ridden monster of a hangover. Why he'd been drinking eluded him those first few hazy moments. He ran a hand through his messy dark hair and pushed the sheets off him, deciding that staying in bed was not going to make the migraine go away - and that the sunlight streaming in from his windows wasn't helping matters, either. Coffee, his half-asleep brain murmured to him, and he nodded. That sounded like a good idea. With monumental effort, he pushed himself up off the bed and staggered off to the little makeshift kitchen area of his RV. His brown eyes fell on his PearPhone, with the voicemail indicator blinking insistently. He pressed the unlock button as he rummaged the cupboards for his caffeine fix.
There was static for a moment before a voice came on. "Hey man." That was Andre. Flashes of yesterday came back to him, but he fought them down. Coffee was more important than remembering right now, as far as he was concerned. On the phone, there was a pause, before he added, "Hope you got home all right. You were really hammered." A chuckle. "Totally understand if you decide to call in sick from school today. I know you're still hurting over the Jade thing…" The voice paused, in time with his own hand on the cupboard freezing before the voice continued, "Oh dang, sorry man. Anyway, call me, Beck. Later." The phone beeped once and went silent.
Right. So it wasn't all an alcohol-induced nightmare. He and Jade really had been broken up for a month or so now, since that day that he told her he was tired of fighting. Since that day that she thought he told her he was tired of her. There were still times he woke up and forgot, woke up and panicked that she wasn't right there next to him. There were still times he got up and, seeing how alone he was, wondered if it was all just a bad dream. It had been so natural; for more than two years, she was the constant in the chaos that was life at Hollywood Arts. Now that she was gone, he felt lost, like there was a part of him ripped away. He had to re-learn what life was like before she was in it.
If only he was half as articulate or half as humble, he'd be able to get the words out.
But he wasn't. So he plunged himself into school, into his other friends, into the Northridge girls who showed up at his house every morning to hitch a ride to school and play with his hair. He threw himself into everything that could take his mind off the fact that despite everything, despite the popularity, he was alone. He didn't stop himself to think, didn't stop to let him be haunted by the curse of having too much time on his hands. But it was inescapable. When he came home from school and lay in bed at night, he couldn't help but think of her. As easy as it was to put his mind to the rest of the world during the day, at night she always came back to him.
And he cursed himself for it, because he'd been doing so well trying to move on.
He checked the time. It was a quarter of an hour to eight and no matter how quickly he got dressed, he wasn't going to make it before school started. He figured he'd miss first period in favor of grabbing coffee to stave off the hangover, because he didn't trust his hung-over brain to make coffee that didn't have the consistency of pond slime. He got ready and slipped his phone into his pocket before he got into his car. He drove to Jet Brew and grabbed his usual large cup, and deciding he had a bit more time to spare, stopped to drink a little. He took his phone out to read whatever messages he missed yesterday.
There was a gap of a couple of hours in his memory. He remembered the day before; he remembered looking at Jade from across the room and thinking how pretty she looked that day; he remembered cursing himself for thinking that. He remembered asking Andre if he wanted to sneak into a club with their fake IDs; he remembered ordering the first drink or two; he remembered Andre leaving early, because he didn't want to make his grandma worry. After that, it started to get hazy. He didn't remember paying the tab, or walking out of the club. He didn't even remember going home… what had happened to him last night?
He thought he remembered calling Andre when he left the club, just to assure him he was leaving. Maybe his call history would have the time and he could piece things together from then? He opened up his call logs. Sure enough, listed at two-ten in the morning was a call to Andre Harris. But it wasn't that call that got him thinking. It was the ones listed above it.
Two-thirty-eight, Jade West. Call duration: 0:00.
Two-forty. Jade West. Call duration: 0:00.
Two-forty-one. Jade West. Call duration: 9:46.
His heart skipped a beat.
He definitely hadn't remembered calling her. His coffee sat on the counter of Jet Brew, all but ignored as he strained to think about what happened. He understood the two missed calls; she barely even spoke to him since the breakup, except to snipe at him repeatedly. But she had taken the last one, and stayed on for almost ten whole minutes. His head spun with questions. What did they talk about? What did he say? An intense trepidation gripped him. Trepidation that he had said too much. He didn't know what was worse – if he had yelled at her and started another screaming match while he was drunk, or if he had spilled his guts to her and told her just how much he missed her since they broke up. No, that wasn't true. He knew that the latter was infinitely worse.
All of a sudden, he dreaded coming to school that day.
Reluctantly, Beck got back into his car and drove to Hollywood Arts in time for second period. He entered Sikowitz's classroom, checking first to see that Jade wasn't in there. He didn't know why, but he wasn't looking forward to seeing her this morning. After discovering that he drunk-dialed her last night, she probably wasn't all too pleased with him either (besides the fact that she hadn't been too pleased with him since they broke it off). She was probably going to yell at him for waking her up at half past two in the morning, and he was never going to hear the end of it.
He was still standing at the doorway when he heard her voice. "Sometime today?"
He turned to face her, then, unguarded, with a slightly lost expression on his face. Seeing that, herface held a flicker of alarm, doubt, and – was that sadness? – before it returned to impatience. "Never mind," she mumbled as she pushed past him and took her usual spot in the back.
What was that? No snide remark? No yelling or pushing? It was a telltale hint that more happened last night than he thought. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and took her by the arm. "Jade," he said, quietly, with a hint of pleading in his voice. It was killing him, not knowing. The pained expression touched his eyes for once, because he didn't bother being guarded. Just the thought of all the things he could have said and done last night was wrecking him in the worst way.
She flinched at his touch, but only barely. "What," she still managed to say, but not as scathingly as she used to. There was something on her mind, obviously, and he could tell it was the same thing on his. She struggled to be let go, but no one else was in the room and class wasn't starting for another ten minutes. They both had the time to spare. It was just a question of whether she would tell him in that time. "Let go of me," she said, jerking her arm away from him as she turned away. "What do you want, anyway?"
His mouth went dry. "I called you last night," he managed to say.
"This morning, at three a.m., to be precise. Thanks for that, by the way. It wasn't like I was planning to sleep or anything," she replied none too gently. Oh well, at least she didn't deny it. That was a start.
"What was it about?" he asked her. He doubted she was going to give it up too easily, but it was worth a shot.
She smirked. "Nothing you'd have the balls to say sober, let me tell you that," she answered, a bitter smile on her face but a sad glint in her eyes as she did. Before he could protest, Cat and Tori walked into the classroom talking loudly about an assignment in another class, effectively cutting short the exchange. Jade seemed only too relieved to be free of Beck, taking her seat next to Cat as she joined in the conversation (after a fashion – if insulting Tori's grammar as she handed her what looked to be a script full of red markings qualified as 'joining in a conversation').
Beck ran a hand through his hair. He paid little attention to Sikowitz when the class finally started. His mind was on Jade's words and what they could possibly mean. Why did she have to be so vague? But then, far be it for Jade to go easy on him for anything. He only wished he could remember… he leaned back against his chair and stared out the window as he strained to recall exactly what had gone on last night.
Clouded images came to him, but they felt like a dream. In them, he walked the empty road from the club towards his house; he hadn't meant to, but somehow he found his way to her street and stood under her window. And he was looking up at her, and her rolling eyes, the expression she always made when he came over, pretending she wasn't happy to see him. It was as if nothing had changed.
And she came down to meet him.
And he kissed her.
He didn't know where the drunken haze of last night ended, and where the dream began. It all seemed far too good to be true. But there was nothing for it; he knew now what he told Jade last night, knew exactly what it was she wanted to hear from him while he was sober. Or at least he had a good idea. It was what he felt now, what he knew now with certainty. He still wasn't half as humble or half as articulate to be able to say any of it, but he knew that there was no better time than now.
Somehow, the class had ended without his noticing, but he didn't care. As the rest of the class filed out of the room, he stopped Jade before she could leave. Tori and Cat gave her a worried look, but she nodded to them, motioning for them to go ahead. "What is it, Beck?" she asked him once they were finally alone. He looked down at her, her wide, expectant blue eyes. There was not even a hint of a smile on her lips as she waited for him to get on with it.
"I can't stop thinking about you, Jade. I want you back. I want us back."
She scoffed. "Good try, but that's not exactly what you said la—"
He cut her off as he pressed his lips to hers gently, catching her off-guard as he had last night. And like last night, she was too stunned to be the first to pull away. As quickly as he leaned in, he pulled away. He remembered the feeling of her lips on his and he knew that last night was not a dream in the least.
It took her a moment to find the words. "Well," she said with a slow smile, "That part, you got right."
Author's Note: I wasn't going to continue this, because it was a oneshot, but so many people asked for a continuation that I caved eventually. I'm not too sure I'm happy with this (because I gave it a happy ending and I wasn't going to write Bade a happy ending until they got back together, but screw it), but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. And if you didn't notice, I ship Bade and Every Avenue. This song especially sums up how I feel Beck should feel after the breakup. If you haven't heard the song, you should go listen to it! (And make a fanvid because I suck at those hahaha.)
P.S. This will not have further updates, I mean it this time! xD
Disclaimer: I own nothing.