jason

[crying razorblades]

<center></center>

After a night of drinking and harmless flirting [or so he'd thought], Jason had woken up at Dianne's house.

Dianne. Dianne was a pretty brunette he'd met the night before at his favorite bar, and she'd been really into him. He had no doubt his money had something to do with that, but really, who cared about such things when they're drunk? He didn't. But he cared now.

He couldn't be too sure whether it was the ticking clock right next to him that woke him up, or the woman snoring so loudly on his other side that she could have woken up children in China. Whatever it was, he was thankful for the wakening. Well, sort of. His head was pounding so hard it felt like it would explode any minute, splattering his brain all over the bed, that damn clock, and Dianne. He got a laugh out of that.

He very quietly got out of bed and then searched for his clothes. He didn't want to wake her. He always found that the women he went home with were never as pretty as they were the night before, and he didn't want to remember Dianne any other way than when he had seen her last night. Finding his clothes, he slipped on his pants and coat, carring the rest in his arm. Good. Now he could just walk on out of here.

He took a step forward, and jumped back immediately. He'd stepped on the cat's tail. "Shhhh..I'm sorry!" He whispered, but the cat was already growing and hissing at him, inevitably waking up the sleeping woman. Stupid fucking cat.

She yawned, twirled around on the bed, and sat up, bringing the sheets with her about chest high. "Heyy.." She said softly, running her fingers through her hair. She already knew. The look in her eyes told him everything. He gave her a weak smile. "You're leaving so soon?"

"Yeah, I have to go to work. I'm sorry." He stood there, no shoes, no shirt, hair messed up to hell. It was awkward, it really was. "But hey, maybe I'll call you." Stupid. Why had he said that? He wasn't going to call her.

"Oh, yeah, okay great. I had a wonderful time last night."

He was sure she did. She was a nice girl and all, but she had money hungry written all over her.

"I don't normally do things like this.." She added quickly. Now here's how he could tell she was lying. She didn't blush, didn't look awkward. No, she stared right at him. He'd had plenty of experiences like these with women, and the ones who were telling the truth always stuttered, or blushed. Or something.

"Yeah. Hey, don't worry about it." There was that long pause afterwards, and he felt himself beginning to feel closed in. "Well, see ya." He did some hand motion, possibly a wave, and left.

<center>---</center>

Twenty five minutes later, he was sitting in his sister's living room while she blended up some 'miracle hangover drink.' They never worked, but he drank it just to make her happy.

"Sooo, another notch on your bedpost. Really, Jason, you need to stop that. It's not good for you. You feel bad after every single one, why do you insist on doing it?"

"I don't know. Self punishment?" He laughed slightly, running both hands over his face before leaning back against the soft cushions.

"Hey, it's really not funny. God, I mean, you're gonna get some chick pregnant, or worse. You're gonna catch something. These girls you go home with...well...they're slutty, Jason. You need..a nice girl. Someone like me." As if to prove her point, she slammed the lid down on the blender, keeping her hand on top of it, just incase it exploded.

"You? Yeah, right. You're not a nice girl. Not by a long shot." When she sent him a murderous glance, he put his hands up in defensive. "Not that you're a slut, either, Kit. Jesus. But I mean, you're...I don't know. I don't know what the fuck you are. You're crazy."

"Yeah, well, so are you."

"Which is exactly why I don't need a nice girl. Nice girl's want reassurance, security, stability...all the things I can't give. These "sluts", as you put it, could care less as long as I have money and a pretty good looking face. Some don't even care about that." He shrugged.

"Why would you want that? Why? What's the point of that? None of them are good enough for you. None of them."

He and his sister seemed to have the same conversation over, and over, and over, and they never got anywhere. So Jason just agreed. Just to shut her up. "Yeah, I know. But maybe I'm not looking for love, Kit. Maybe I'm just wanting to have fun."

Or, maybe, he was just scared of being hurt. He'd fallen in love once, and she'd betrayed him. He promised himself he'd never go through that again.

"Maybe.." His sister said as she poured his drink, which was the color of deep red by now, and brought it over to him. "Maybe you're just a fucking idiot." She flicked him on the forehead, knowing damn well he had a headache. That was Kit for you.

"Or maybe...I just don't feel like being walked out on." There was nothing either of them could say to that. Kit had nothing to say that would prove him wrong, because they both knew it could very well happen.

Just like it had happened before.

<font color="#FFFFFF" size="1">[ December 16, 2007 08:02 PM: Message edited by: empty hearted ]</font>

[crying razorblades]

<center>
See me? I'm down and I get
deeper with every breath.
See me? I'm over the edge,
farther with every step.
See me? I'm down and I get
deeper with every breath.
Standing over the edge,
I'm taking my last breath.

I can transcend you
and mentally bend you,
but I can't handle the
shit that I'm into.
I have been blinded and
always reminded of the things
I've wanted but I never could find.

I am a part of a world that I hate.
I wish the end would come faster,
my world's a disaster.
Can't you see that I'm down,
and I'm drowning?
And I can't keep my head above my..

What I'm really trying
hard to get down to words,
is the way I fit into this world.
Things I survived
pushed me to the darker side

</center>

[crying razorblades]

The slow hum of the computer was enough to make Jason tired, but he was on a mission. He wouldn't sleep until he'd found what he wanted.

Somewhere behind him, he could hear his sister trying to get comfortable on his stiff leather couch. "Ugh. I don't understand what you like about this damn thing." She had the slight Irish accent, just like Jason. It made him smile. It reminded him of home-- just not the happy home most people thought of. Kit was his home. They'd always had each other, and no matter how bad things had turned, they kept each other laughing.

"It matches my apartment? I don't know. It's not meant for comfort, Kit. It's meant to be sat on." He widened his eyes for a minute, as if it was the most obvious answer, never turning to look at her.

"Well, Jace, when people sit, they like to be comfortable." She shot back.

"Whatever." He wasn't in the mood to argue with her. He was too distracted. The clicking of the mouse and keyboard sent soft echoes through the living room, obviously reaching Kit's ears.

"What are you doing over there, anyway?" Another thing he and Kit shared. The nosy gene. Both of them were nosy as hell, and sometimes it got them into trouble. A lot of trouble.

"I amm..." He drawled out, pausing for a minute as he clicked on a link. "Looking up an address. Trying to get a phone number."

"Why? Who?"

"This girl I met. And because I told her I'd call her, that's why." Had he actually said he'd call her? He didn't remember. But he had said something along those lines.

The silence that followed made him feel uneasy, and he turned around slightly, looking at Kit. She was giving him a strange look. "So...you're looking up a chick's address...to get her number. Okay....who is she? And why didn't you just ask her for it?"

Jason sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, then turned back around. He didn't want to look at Kit anymore. And he most definitely didn't want to answer her questions. "Because, Katherine, I was running late when I left her place. I had to hurry up and get to a meeting, that's why. I didn't have time to write it down." He usually called her 'Katherine' when he was getting annoyed.

Another long silence followed. "Who is she, Jason?"

"Why does it even matter?" Click, click, click.

"Uh, because. You never call girls back. Much less go online to look up her number. Jesus Christ." She muttered. "Stalker."

"Okay, you know what?" That had got to him. He was not a stalker. "Shut up, Kit. Just shut up. I told her I would call her back, and that's what I'm doing." This conversation was going nowhere.

"WHO IS SHE, JASON? AND WHY ARE YOU STALKING HER?" Her voice got loud, and he knew she wasn't going to stop until he gave her the answers.

"Fucking hell, Kit. You're so fucking annoying. Why are you even over here?!" He closed his eyes, calming himself down. He didn't have to turn around to know she was laughing at him. "I'm not stalking her. She has .. friend potential. I don't really have any female friends. I think it's about time I have some. And her name is Blythe." He answered finally, talking slowly.

"Friend potential?" Kit snickered. "You don't look somebody up online when it's just 'friend potential.'"

"Leave me alone. I found her number." He tried not to let his excitement show. It'd been about four days when he'd last seen her. Would calling her now be too soon? He grabbed his cell, and punched in the number, saving it to "Blythe" in his contacts. There. He shut off his computer, and stood.

"So, now that you have her number, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Call her and ask her to a movie, or dinner, or whatever." He hadn't thought that far.

"Oh, how typical. That's boring, Jason. Take her somewhere exciting!" Kit was a hopeless romantic.

"You don't take friends to exciting places. Besides, she's a low maintence type of girl." At least he thought so. "I'm sure we could go to..I don't know, the store, and she'd make it fun, and we'd both have fun." That was something he liked about her. "She's a nice girl, Kit."

"Oh, a nice girl? Not one of those tramps you pick up at a bar? Where did you meet her?"

He laughed. "At the jazz club Randy was playing at. She writes the reviews on them or something, and it determines whether they get signed." He was pretty sure that was it.

Kit grinned. "Well, finally. I'm glad. Can't wait to meet her."

"One, we're not dating. We're friends. And two, you won't meet her. Period." He was very serious about that.

"Well...if you guys are just friends, why can't I meet her, then?"

The question struck some place in his heart, and he just stared. He didn't know. "I'm going to take a nap. When I wake up, please, for the love of God, be gone." With that, he turned away from her, from the computer, and made his way down the hall to his room. He slipped off his shoes, his shirt, and then crawled into his bed, grateful for the plush blankets and soft mattress. He dug his phone out of his pocket, and flicked it open.

There he sat, for several minutes, staring at Blythe's number. Finally, he dialed it. The voicemail clicked on.

"Hey, Blythe. It's Jason. Told you I'd find you." He grinned, even though they weren't in person. "Anyways, uh, well...this is my number so..call me back sometime. I was just wondering if you wanted to catch a movie or go to dinner." He was about to hang out, but added, "Or..you know, you could pick. Something exciting. Hell. Okay, bye!" He hung up.

Yes. Just friends, indeed.

[crying razorblades]

"So, when do you feel your problem with small spaces started?"

He was running through his mother's house, anxiously looking for his sister. He remembered the way his heart felt, the way the anger built up inside of him, hiding in every cell, every heart beat, rushing through every single vein.

"I..I don't know." He laid there on the sofa, listening to the soft tick of the clock. He didn't want to remember, that was his problem. He shut his eyes.

"You have to think, Jason. We'll never get to the root of the problem if you don't think."

The door to Kit's bedroom looked like the gate to hell. He'd tried to turn the doornob, but it was locked. There was no reason the door should be locked. He had pressed an ear up to the door, had listened to the mumbling voices on the other side.

"I don't think there's a problem. A lot of people are claustrophobic. Aren't you supposed to be telling me to think of wide, open spaces?" He was getting frustrated, wishing for once that he hadn't started coming here. He reached a hand up, brushing his hair down with his fingertips.

"Maybe so. But your case is different. Something made you that way. You weren't born with it, that much is evident. Now think." The soft sound of pen scribbling on paper came next.

He'd pounded so hard that his knuckles started bleeding, leaving bloody spots on the door. He'd pounded as if his life depended on it, screaming his sister's name until his lungs burned. Screaming profanity that would of put a sailor to shame. At the age of sixteen, he wasn't strong enough to break down the door.

He'd been a tall, awkward, and lanky boy. He had never been considered 'attractive' to the girls in his class, but he had been intelligent enough that they would flirt with him to get the class notes. But he'd filled out nicely. The boy who could once be mistaken for a flagpole had grown into a healthy, of average weight man. Muscles replaced protruding bones, and he grew into his large eyes and strong jawbone. But that wasn't why he was here. He could care less about what people thought of him at age sixteen.

"Look, I don't know. I don't know why you just can't accept that. What are you writing down?" His tone has a suspicious tilt to it, and he casted a glance to the side, watching the old man scribble something again.

"Denial.." The man mumbled, thick white mustache quivering everytime the man breathed.

"Hey, man, I'm not in denial." Jason looked away, staring at the ceiling again.

Jason remembered the way His face glared down into his own, the way he'd made Jason feel so small. He'd learned how to hate at a small age, and it was a shame. The next moment, he was being dragged down the hall. He was saying something to him, but he couldn't make out the words. They were deep, distorted, drawn out. Almost surreal sounding. Next, he was being shoved into a dark closet, too small for any normal human being to feel comfortable in. The clicking sound of the door being locked from the outside had set him off, had caused him to scream all night long until Kit let him out during the early hours of the morning.

Her cheeks had been streaked with tears, eyes wide and untrusting. What had He done to her?

And where had his mother been? Getting drunk and fucking some man she had met that night. That fucking night. And whenever she was out, she had always left Him in charge.

His face burned into Jason's memory. He was the devil, every evil thing you could ever think of, He was it.

His name...was Paul.

Jason felt his breath catch in his throat, and he immediately stood up, grabbing up his coat. "I'm done for today."

The graying old man stared at him, baffled. "But Jason, you just got here. You're supposed to be here for another hour and half. That's a waste---"

"Just fucking bill me." And he stormed out, slamming the door to the shrink's office, and slamming the door to the memories of his mind while he was at it.

[crying razorblades]

<center>

I cheated myself,
like I knew I would.

I told you I was trouble,
you know that I'm no good.

</center>

[crying razorblades]

Today was cold. Very cold. So cold that it chilled to the bone. Jason, however, was unaware of this. He never paid much attention to the cold, and today was no exception.

He'd been heading out the door, ready to start the day with hot tea and maybe a bagel from somewhere, when he'd noticed something taped to his door. The only reason he had noticed it was because he always turned and twisted the doornob, making sure his door was locked. You could never be too careful anymore.

Greyish eyes had stared at it for a long time, as if trying to decide what to do. Who was it from? Why was it there?

He glanced over his shoulder, almost suspiciously, before reaching a gloved hand out and peeling it from his door. That's when he realized it hadn't been taped to his door at all.

Someone stuck it to his door with gum. He couldn't help it. A lopsided grin spread across him mouth easily. It had to of been from Blythe. Who else would do something like this?

Turning it over had proved him right. Hmm..

On the way to his 06' black Volvo, he had a skip to his step, as if he was bouncing to a beat locked up in the secret parts of his mind. Needless to say, it made him happy.

He got in the car, turned it on, and immediately put the CD in the player while he waited for the car to warm up.

Then he took off. He'd never listened to this band before, but he realized that he could like it. He could like it a lot. The lyrics stung his ear, demanding that he listen to what they had to say.

It was at a stop light when it happened. Something clicked in his brain, eyes narrowing as he started at the radio accusingly. Is she trying to tell me something?

"What do you know? It happened again..." The song played on.

He wetted his mouth. Nah, it was just a song.

[crying razorblades]

<center>

Love comes like surprise ice on the water,
love comes like surprise ice at dawn.
Love comes like surprise ice on the water,
love comes at dawn.
</center>

He'd had the lyrics from Blythe's burned CD stuck in his head all day. He didn't know why, that type of music wasn't usually his thing, but he really liked them.

"Okay, so, you skipped work-- which you NEVER do, by the way --and went ice skating?Jason..." Kit was lounged in the computer chair, facing him while spinning the chair from side to side slowly.

"What?" He was laying on his leather couch, arms crossed behind his head, eyes staring up at the ceiling. He was barely listening to his sister.

"You like her, why don't you just admit it? I've never seen you act this way, why don't---"

"Kit, let it go. We're friends. She knows that, I know that. Simple. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. Stop instigating, or whatever it is that you're doing." Jason checked his watch, and stood, grabbing his coat from the small, glass coffee table in front of him.

"Where are you going?"

"I have a date."

"With the ice princess?"

"No, with some chick Randy introduced me to last week."

"Oh." She sounded...disapproving.

Jason glared, and then sighed. "What, Kit? What?"

"Nothing. If you want to date two people, go right on ahead. It's none of my business if my brother is an asshole."

"Christ. Blythe and I are NOT dating. I mean, we have a friend date later tonight, but ... come on ... it's a FRIEND date." He waved a dismissive hand, put on his coat, and walked out. He was tired of hearing Kit talk. That's all she did these days.

<center>---an hour and a half later---</center>

"..and so, I was like, 'Oh my god, Randy! Your friend is so cute! Why don't you go talk to him for me?' And him, being the sweetheard he is, did, and now here we are!" The woman in front of him smiled so wide Jason thought her face was going to break. Fucking hell, what did Randy get him in to?

"Yeah, that's Randy for you." He mumbled, taking a long gulp of his wine before tapping the waitress on the arm. "Excuse me, can I have another glass, please?" He was going to need it.

"So, Jason, what is it that you do?" She grinned. She had money hungry written all over her face. Jason shook his head.

"I manage a hotel." He kept it vague. Last time he'd told a woman what he did, she stalked him for three months. He was never making that mistake again.

"Ooh, I bet that pays good money." She looked pleased with herself. Jason could see it now, her and her mother sitting down to lunch somewhere. 'I finally landed a rich guy, mom! Someone who can support me and take me out of this life!' Jason nearly gagged.

"It pays the bills." He kept waiting for a familiar sweet laugh to ring in his ears, kept waiting for some quirky, off beat comment that matched his own sense of humor. It never happened. The eyes looking into his now weren't a brilliant blue that lit up anytime an idea was thought up, but a pale green that had money signs in the pupils. Figures.

"I'll bet. Thank for you dinner, it was delicious." And expensive. And as much as Jason wanted to get out of there, they still had to drive back to her place so he could drop her off.

"Your welcome. It's nice to go out to eat sometimes." Jason stood, placing money down on the table, and gulped the wine the waitress had sat down moments before. He shouldn't get carried away, though. He still had to drive.

Several minutes later, they were seated in his car, heading towards her place. He purposely turned the music up, letting Blythe's CD relieve the thoughts in his mind. The best feeling in the world was listening to a song that had been stuck in your head all day.

They pulled up to her house, and he turned down the music, glancing over at her. "Well, have a good night." He didn't know how else to hint that he wanted her out of his car.

She looked confused. He was willing to bet that she thought they had hit it off. She was wrong. She hesitated, stalling with the handle for a minute.

He didn't respond. Just watched her, waiting for her to get out.

Then she did the most unexpected thing. She reached over and crushed her lips to his in a desperate attempt. "You can come in, if you want. I have some brandy, good music--"

"I really need to get going." He immediately turned the other way, puzzled to why her kiss disturbed him so much. More awkwardness followed, and she finally got out, slamming the door shut behind her.

And he sped off, ready to get home.

What was wrong with him?

[crying razorblades]

two years earlier.


No words needed to be said. The silence said it all.

"You just...I can't deal with you and your problems anymore, Jace." The woman standing opposite from him sounded choked up, as if she was the one getting her heart ripped to shreds. He didn't even know what to say. What could he say to that?

"Rissi..I told you coming in that..." He sucked in a mouthful of chilly air. "I fucking told you that I had problems. I told you I was no good. You said..." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. "You said it was fine. That it didn't matter. That all we needed was..was.."

"Love isn't enough anymore, Jason. I mean, damn. Sometimes you're loving, other times you're so hateful that I cry all night long. Sometimes when you're with me, you aren't all there. I can't deal with that. My heart, my emotions, can't deal with that. I need to be with someone who can love me 100 percent, not 75 percent. It's not good enough."

Jason wanted to tell her that he would change, that he would do anything in the world for her. But it wouldn't leave his tongue. He couldn't bring himself to say it.

He knew he wouldn't change. He couldn't.

All he could do was stand there, staring at the woman who had promised to love him. And to think he was planning on marrying this girl.

He shook his head, and turned away from her, walking down the empty road back to his house. He didn't look back, not even when she cried out his name.

<font color="#FFFFFF" size="1">[ December 16, 2007 07:58 PM: Message edited by: empty hearted ]</font>

[crying razorblades]

It had been a while since he'd heard anything from her.

He wouldn't admit it, but it was driving him crazy and he didn't know why. He was lounged on his sofa, long legs stretching towards the coffee table, glass of brandy in his hand.

The holidays hadn't gone too well for him. His mother called while Kit was there, and they had a blow out. He should have known. But lately, his mind had been elsewhere.

It wasn't on his sister and her crazy moods, nor was it on his mother and her drunken accusations. It wasn't even on his father, whom he barely heard from anymore because Jason had chosen a different way of life. One that barely needed the help of his father.

No, it was on a certain girl who's eyes lit up the whole room when she walked in. It reminded him of stars, hence the present he gave her a few weeks prior.

He remembered how they looked that night. Big and bright, only to dim as he pulled away from her. He hated knowing that he was the cause of that, the cause of destroying something beautiful. He destroyed everything he ever touched, even if he didn't mean to.

He sunk lower in the seat, running a large hand down his face before taking a long gulp of the liquor.

It was decision making time. He could either let it go, let her go like the rest of them, or he could suck it up and do what he wanted for once. With or without fear.

Whatever changed his mind, whether it be the raw sensation of missing someone, or the alcohol flowing through his veins, he'd never know. But his cell was picked up, and Blythe's number was dialed.

Of course, he got her voicemail. He sucked in a shakey breath before speaking.

"Hey Blythe, it's Jason. I was just calling..." He paused, listening to the clock tick lightly through the silent room. "To ask if you wanted to go on a date next weekend. Not a "friend date"...a real one. Call me back."

A smile crept across his face and he drank himself to sleep.