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Again, thoughts begin to echo through your mind.
How could you… how could you betray Jane like that?
You led her on.
You threw away everything you ever had with her with a single speech.
She’s here now, you can see the way her voluptuous body moves with a serpentine grace unbefitting a woman of her stature. Your eyes trail from her bare legs to her full, kissable lips, where a calm smile resides. She says something, but you can barely hear it. The things you’re thinking now, you could make everything up to her, let her do as she pleases.
You’re suddenly locked in a Dersite prison. You know this is a memory. You know it isn’t YOUR memory, but what one Jake experiences, the rest remember. Jane is speaking to you, and although her voice sounds as if your ears are full of water, you understand. You. Global domination. You. The Batterwitch. You. Heirs. You remember crying. You remember the way she looked at you, hungry red pupils surrounded by black sclera. You remember looking at her flickering tiara. You remember not wanting that sort of life.
But now you’re back, and Jane is embracing you. Her soft hands glide over your body like a ghost’s, barely grazing your skin. You begin to tear up. Why are you tearing up? Don’t you want this? Why can’t you do this one thing for her? Tears slip down your cheeks. No, no! Keep it together, let her have this! You begin to sob. Jane stops touching you. She looks concerned. She looks upset. Disappointed. Rejected.
“So tell me, Jake: which one of us is really the bad guy here?”
You snap awake, feeling utterly and totally like a trampled pile of shit. The familiar sensation of cold adrenaline under your skin is the only thing you can bring yourself to register outside of the awful loathing bubbling up inside you. You can’t even keep your eyes open for long, and they slip close, still watering. You’d made a damn fool of yourself at the press conference a few hours ago. A long sob to leaves your body, and you let it peter out into a groan of despair. The scent of your own sweat and… other scents from earlier hit you as you take a shaky breath in through your nose.
Laying flat on your back, you scrunch up your face and begin to sob. Pathetic. Pathetic! You agonize as your steadily numbing hands come up to cover your eyes. Your violent crying causes your body to shake, your teeth to chatter. Agony claws at your lungs as you struggle for breath between wet, unintelligible shouts. The force of you cries causes your body to lurch, and your hands fall from you face. Your hands are wet, your face is wet. Tears are making their way down your neck and soaking into the collar of your shirt. You’re sitting upright now, just shaking and sobbing.
Pathetic. Truly and utterly disgraceful. If Jane could see you now. If she knew how much of a fuck-up you were, would she still like you? She saw the broadcast too. An awful feeling rises into you, replacing the numbness in your veins. Is she no longer interested? Does she hate me now? Your first reaction was relief. Then immediate disgust. How could you?! She’s one of your best friends! She’s all you have left! She’s the only one you’ll ever have a chance with. You’re the only one who can satisfy her. You're the only one who will.
Your crying peters out and you lean back, still letting out small, breathless coughs as you attempt to calm down. Should you talk to Jane? No. No, you shouldn’t talk to her. She heard what you said. You’d confessed your love for Dirk. A man you hadn’t loved since you were 16 and lonely. Did you love Dirk then? Do you love Dirk now? As oxygen returns to your body, a stifled headache takes the place of numbness. You said you love Dirk. With all that happened, you had nearly forgotten the crux of the worst day of your adult life. Did Dirk watch the broadcast? Had Dirk heard you? Were you toying with his heart now?
But you loved Dirk. And, he loves you back, right? You broke up with him , so surely there was still desire in his heart. Jane, well. Jane obviously won’t want you anymore. After seeing that pathetic display, hearing what you said . Dirk is the only person that you can go to now. You haven’t spoken to Roxy in months. You were never close with Jade or John. Right now, for some reason, you can only think of Dirk.
You’re thinking of Dirk now. You should call him .
No, actually. You shouldn’t, he’s probably busy. He doesn’t want to talk right now, you should probably not bother him. Dirk’s working now, you think. On something important, way more important than anything I have to say. I should get something done too, you think. Instead of sitting on my ass and crying over a bad dream. Damn pitiable. A sort of calm washes over you and now you decide to leave Dirk alone.
You pick up your phone. As you look at it, your headache begins to worsen. You want to call Dirk. You want to talk to someone. You want to… what did Roxy call it? Venting? You want to vent to someone. And you really, really want someone to be Dirk. But as you bypass your lock screen, something tells you that Dirk isn’t available. And as you go into your contacts, something tells you Dirk is busy now. As you dial his number, something tells you to leave Dirk alone. As it rings, there is silence. And as it goes to voicemail, you know he doesn’t want to speak to you. But it doesn’t stop you from dialing until time dries your tears into thin lines of salt and the white sun sinks below the horizon. He never picks up.