Archive of Our Own ^beta

The stranger wanders into the kitchen while Jaiden is packing a coffee pod into the machine. She’s half-naked except for a pair of cute lace underwear that peeks out beneath Jacob’s jacket, which is zipped up just enough to conceal her chest. Her long legs tremble as she stumbles around, neck marked to all hell. Their shared house is spacious for just the two of them—and their many pets—but not enough that Jaiden wouldn’t notice a stranger sneaking around. 

She freezes upon seeing Jaiden, a drunk deer-in-headlights. There is a second where they stare at each other, motionless and stunned. Jaiden can see the gears turn and turn in her mind before she comes to a conclusion. That common terror breaks through the hungover fog. 

Before the woman can properly freak out, Jaiden says, “I’m just the roommate. Not his girlfriend.”

The woman’s shoulder sag with relief. “Oh, thank God. For a second, I thought I was a homewrecker or something.”

“Don’t worry about it, he’s far from my type.”

She’s in an obvious state of disarray, with the muddy remains of black and glitter-gold around her drooped green eyes and kissed-away lipstick on the corners of her mouth. Her neck and upper chest are dotted pink and red. Long dark curls rest messily like a crown around her heart-shaped face and float down her back. The woman self-consciously pulls the jacket further down to cover her legs. 

“Do you want some coffee?” Jaiden asks. 

“Um. Sure. Thanks.”

As the coffee machine gurgles, Jaiden hops onto the counter, pulling out her phone. The woman hovers awkwardly on the other side of the island counter, eyeing the hall back to Jacob’s bedroom, appearing unsure if she should sit or make a run for it. Jaiden smiles every time she looks her way, not wanting to cause her any discomfort. She can’t imagine what it’s like waking up in a stranger’s house, sitting with the roommate of her one-night-stand without a clear path for escape. 

The people he brings home never quite know what to make of Jaiden if they meet. They all initially think she’s a jilted lover, but it’s quite the opposite. She can’t blame them, really. How else do they simply explain two single adults living together? Especially when they have know idea of Jacob’s history and subsequent need for rebounds. 

Jaiden hasn’t run into many of his lovers before, normally still hunkered in her bedroom by the time they slip out of the house, but she’s always polite to them, if not her normal level of awkwardness. She was the one who insisted that Jacob doesn’t have to hide anything from her, even sex, just because she’s aroace and he’s not. Sex doesn’t disgust her; it’s a boring concept of intimacy that she’s never needed nor desired. 

“I’m assuming this is a common occurrence for him, huh?” the woman asks with a slight chuckle.

Jaiden sends her a pity smile.

“He’s not, like, a player or anything,” she explains. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I know what I signed up for. Trust me, this is not my first night with an emotionally unavailable guy.” The woman finally sits on the kitchen stool, hands fiddling with the jacket’s zipper. “I’m Jess.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jaiden.”

She grins. “And he’s Jacob? I guess he’s got a thing for J’s.”

“You’re tellin’ me. That’s not even his first name. It’s John.”

“His name is John Jacob?”

“I know, right?”

They share a laugh. Jaiden sets one of Jacob’s mugs in front of Jess and asks her if she wants milk or sugar. Jess is nice, and very pretty. He really has a thing for brunettes. 

Jaiden makes her own coffee, then leaves Jacob’s brewing. He’ll be awake any minute now. 

“If it’s not overstepping, can I ask…” Jess nervously curls her fingers around the mug, pausing to gather her words. “You two are just roommates, right? This isn’t an ex-still-living-together situation, is it? I don’t want to make things weird.”

“No, no, you’re okay.” Jaiden snickers at the idea. “We’re best friends but nothing more, you can trust me on that.”

“Oh. Cool.”

At one point, she and Jacob had discussed dating purely from a logistical standpoint. They knew each other better than anyone else, they loved each other beyond something they could even communicate, and dating each other wouldn't even change anything in their lives. They’re soulmates, through and through. It just made sense. 

But Jacob needs more from a partner than what Jaiden can provide, and Jaiden is okay with how they are now. Nothing needs to change. 

Well. Nothing good needs to change, but nothing gold stays. 

As Jaiden searches for a tin of food for Tostada and Fraiser, she hears a distant door close a little too harshly and scurrying cat feet. Jacob walks into the kitchen with his eyes squeezed shut, wearing a One Piece shirt and basketball shorts. Pale strands of his hair stick up like branches on a tree. His neck is puckered with hickeys and the ghost of Pretty Jess’ dark lipstick.

Out of embarrassment, Pretty Jess hides her face in her hands. 

He blindly kisses Jaiden on the forehead like he does every morning and runs right into the fridge. Their routine is so rooted in their minds that he sleepily 

“Mornin’,” he grumbles, voice rough from the aftermath of what Jaiden’s sure was an exciting night. 

“You look like shit,” she says.

Jacob snorts. “I feel like it, too.”

His latest fling, the pretty and polite Jess, watches him sit down beside her, eyes closed, still not noticing that she’s right there.

“Hi,” she says.

Jacob jumps in his seat, suddenly awake. “Oh, my—I’m so sorry. I thought you left when you weren’t—Hi. How are you?”

A sad, almost amused smile flickers across her face. “Good. How are you?”

“Good. Good.”

Jacob looks at Jaiden, and she raises an eyebrow. They know each other well enough to talk without words, and she can see the are you serious? in his eyes. Jaiden glances at Jess, then back to Jacob, her way of saying, did you expect me to ignore her? She bets he doesn’t even remember her name. 

He turns towards Jess, smiling. “Sorry, I woke up weird. Do you want breakfast or anything?”

“Oh, that would be lovely, really, but I have to go to work soon,” Jess says, glancing at her wrist as if she’s wearing a watch. “And I should really find my clothes. Thank you for the coffee, Jaiden.”

“No problem.”

Jacob waits until Jess has disappeared into his bedroom before bowing his head in shame. “Don’t.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Jaiden says cheerily.

“Yes, you were.”

“You really like those J names.”

He groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Fuck me, dude.”

“She’s pretty. And nice.”

“I know. I’m an asshole.”

Jaiden pours him a cup of coffee and slides it to him. “It’s not like you’re leading them on.”

“Yeah, but now I just feel like a frat guy.”

“I mean, you are kinda acting like one.”

Jacob groans loudly in response. She snickers at him, but feels a pang of pity in her chest.

Amicable or otherwise, breakups are never easy. Not like Jaiden would understand completely, but she’s felt it through the platonic falling outs she’s endured. She understands what it’s like to love someone so deeply that they become a part of you, an extra limb of your soul. Seeing the rest of your life intertwined with theirs, the ecstasy that must bring, only to rewrite them out of every thought once their worlds branch apart. It’s like a spiritual severing. 

It’s been months since She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named moved out, and Jacob’s still not… quite put together yet. Even after agreeing to be friends because of their history, even when the papers were signed and they went their separate ways, even after quitting therapy he insisted he was getting better, whatever pieces shattered inside of him are still not healed.

Jacob is like a broken teacup that misplaced some small but vital shards. No amount of glue and gold and drinks and sex can fill the gaps.

Jaiden watches Jacob carefully now, the way she always does when she fears he’s fragile. She sees the heaviness in their eyes, the outgrown brown under his bleached silver hair. There’s a darkness in his face that hasn’t left in months, a permanent shadow that dims his light. He’s not getting any better. And Jaiden is useless to try and fix him herself. 

Jess tiptoes her way back into the kitchen, wearing a sundress and denim jacket, her heels hooks on her fingers. Jacob smiles stiffly and walks her out of the house. Jaiden is too far to hear more than the muffled echo of their conversation from the foyer, then the gentle click of the front door closing and Jacob’s head falling against the frame.

“Can we order Waffle House?” Jacob calls out.

“Sure,” she replies, listening to his ragged breathing from the kitchen. So close to help, too far to heal. “As long as you go to pick it up.”

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jaiden watches the hickeys disappear day after day. She teases him when she sees, and he always blushes like mad when she does. 

Jacob spends the next few mornings with her and her alone. Jaiden missed breakfasts with them. They used to eat together all the time when they first moved in. Even after they adjusted to each other’s presence and learned the balance of being alone and together, the mornings were this quiet time they made coffee and shared silence before the day started. 

Sara asks if Jacob wants to go to a nearby bar to watch a local band play, and Jaiden already knows he’s going to accept. 

“Are you going?” she asks over dinner.

She’s sitting on the floor of his office with her food in her lap, while he wolfs down his own plate over his desk. Jacob’s been locked in all day, editing a new Mario Party video he’d put off for a few weeks before deciding to finally hunker down and get it out. 

“I might,” Jacob replies, which she knows means he already agreed to it. “Would be nice to get out before I become a room rat trying to get this damn video done. It’s almost forty minutes long, and I’m not even halfway done.”

Jaiden hums in acknowledgement, spinning her pasta around her fork. She knows his routine like she knows her own: he’ll drink too much, find someone, bring them home, and wake up feeling guilty until the next opportunity arises to go out.

An hour later, Jacob is out the front door in their nicest button down, wearing cologne this time, with a promise that nothing will happen tonight. It’s a nice night out with friends. They won’t come home with company tonight.

Jaiden smiles, tells him to have fun, and doesn’t believe a word he says. 

Rinse, repeat, rinse.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jacob comes home with company.

It’s a guy this time, she thinks, but Jaiden doesn’t run into him. She’s in the bathroom, brushing her teeth, when she hears a quiet argument down the hall. 

Peeking her head through the bathroom door, she sees two hunched shadows, hissing obscenities back and forth. Their words are distant so Jaiden can’t understand exactly what they’re saying, but she recognizes the anger in them. The man Jacob brought home pushes past and slams the front door closed on his way out, leaving him alone in the foyer. 

Jacob’s shadow sighs, presses his palms to his eyes, and collapses back against the door. Jaiden steps into the hall. 

“Hey,” she mumbles around her toothbrush.

He looks up, then away, but she already catches sight of the tears.

“Hey,” he says. “I'm sorry. I promised no company.”

“It’s okay.” She turns, spits the paste into the sink, and glances back at Jacob. “What was that about?”

“I think I led him on.”

“Fuck.. I’m sorry.”

“It happens.” Jacob tilts his head towards the ceiling with a deep groan. “I think… I’m too scared to be alone. But I don’t know if the mornings are worth it.”

Jaiden silently brushes her teeth, hoping he’ll continue. Give her a glimpse inside of him, expose that loose thread she needs to pull so she can help.

Instead, he asks, “Coffee?”

She nods. Jacob stands, slow like the world weighs him down, and stumbles to the kitchen.

So close, too far.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jaiden often wonders what it is about sex that appeals to people. If it’s for personal pleasure or dispelling frustration, if intimacy is easier with a stranger than someone you can trust because you know it’s temporary. Vulnerability is easy, if it only lasts a night. 

The idea of it isn’t exactly off-putting, but it’s not something she craves nor needs. Jaiden kissed a boy once. A girl, too. She even hooked up with and subsequently fumbled a very pretty Starfire at a Halloween party years ago. This was before she even knew she wasn’t into sex or romance and was still trying to figure out why she couldn't enjoy it like others did. Neither affected her the way she always expected it to.

It was nice, the proximity and the new experience, but it wasn’t what she thought it would be. How the world always taught her it was supposed to be. When Jaiden figured out that she was aroace, it was a relief, but almost a pity as well. She knew she wasn’t missing out on any huge life events, but it still felt that way. Like her lack of desire cut her off from something she knew was not necessary for a fulfilling life, but an additive to it. 

That also means there is an aspect of her and Jacob’s lives with no relatable overlap. Because while he’s somewhere on that same spectrum as her, he still has a level of romantic and sexual interest, while she experiences none. His experience is so completely different from hers that she can’t help but feel a disconnect. 

Immediately after the breakup, he’d gone out every night and came stumbling home, drunk off his ass and so, so pitifully miserable. Sometimes, Jaiden would have to get him herself. She didn’t mind, as long as it meant she kept him safe.

Jacob hardly slept—throwing himself into work was his only excuse, but she knew that wasn’t it, she could hear his sobs through the walls—and when he finally did, it was riddled with nightmares. What their cause is, Jaiden is too afraid to ask. He wouldn’t tell her if she did, anyway. 

Eventually, drinking slowed, he started sleeping again, and he started smiling like it didn’t hurt him. But it didn’t stop. She fears sometimes that it never will. 

“Not that I don’t love using all of my K Cups on your pussy parade,” Jaiden says during breakfast, stifling a smile when she hears Jacob choke on his coffee, “but I think you need to slow it down. It’s becoming a thing.”

She was in the kitchen, eating a bagel, as Jacob’s latest lover-of-the-night scrambled out in the middle of the night. They weren’t exactly arguing, but it didn’t sound like a sweet goodbye. 

“I know,” Jacob says. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. It’s hurting you more than helping.”

“I know,” he repeats, pitifully so.

“Good. Just so you know.”

The silence falls over them, but Jaiden doesn’t let it last.

“Does it help?” she asks.

Jacob stammers his way through responses, as sex isn’t exactly a common topic among two people on the ace spectrum. But she’s curious, too curious, and she has to know. If she can understand him better, maybe she can help him. Maybe he’ll get better.

“I… don’t really know,” he confesses. “I mean, it helps with the pent up energy, I guess. Maybe not with everything else.”

“Is that why you’re so…” Jaiden fans herself, fake swoons. Jacob shoves her shoulder.

“That’s not why, you goof. I’m not some horny college kid following his dick everywhere. I’m just… I need the connection. As brief as it is. I need to feel like… Like, I don’t know. I’m still me. Like I’m still wanted.”

Jaiden furrows her brows. “How does that work?”

“I don’t know.” Jacob doesn’t look at her, but she sees his hand clench around his fork, his shoulder roll up with tension. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

It’s not. But Jaiden doesn’t push. 

Talking about it helps, but Jacob stumbles in his explanations, thinking she won’t understand. And in a way, she won’t.

The hookups stop, but the rest continues.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

When Jaiden returns from a weekend away, she drops her bags at the front door and stomps her way into the living room, fuming with rage. She finds Jacob in the living room, watching reruns of New Girl on his laptop while wrapped in a blanket. His blonde hair is the only thing she sees at first.

He lifts his head, smiling wide. “You’re back!”

Jacob tries to hide the bottles between the cushions before they stand, but Jaiden can smell the soju on their breath as they approach. He greets her with a strangling hug. She doesn’t hug him back. 

“You were supposed to pick me up from the airport.”

He pulls away, smile dropping in seconds. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

“I called you. Like, a dozen times. You scared me. I thought you were dead”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, louder and more defiant. As if doubling down on his apology will make it any better. “I guess my phone died.”

That’s not enough. Jaiden clenches her jaw to stop herself from pouting. “You owe me for the Uber.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. You wanna get dinner tonight?”

Before she can stop herself, she quips back, “Are you even sober enough to drive?”

Shock flashes across his face before a humiliated blush rises from his neck. Jacob looks down, wiping his face with a shaky palm. He looks so tired, like he hadn’t slept the whole time she was gone, and Jaiden wants to feel bad. But she can’t this time. 

She doesn’t even know why she’s angry, or if this anger is just a mask for something else. Jaiden keeps going, keeps digging.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve done this either,” she says. “I know I’m not much better at being on time or not messing up, but I’ve never forgotten you. I’ve never let you down like this, have I? I always try to be there when you need me.”

“I said I was sorry,” he whispers.

“I know. I heard you. But does that make it better?”

“Cut me some slack,” he snaps. “Divorce isn’t fucking easy.”

“I know, and I’m trying to be here for you, but at one point it becomes just another excuse.”

“What else do you want from me?”

“I want my best friend back.”

Jaiden turns, eyes stinging with frustration, and beelines for her room. She doesn’t slam the door, but the silent click of it closing feels just as explosive. Her heart hammers, tears racing down her face like raindrops on a window.

Her knees touch the bed, and she collapses into the cushions, not bothering to remove her shoes. She stays curled up in the familiar blankets, hiding her body away in the too-many-plushies. 

It’s selfish, she knows, to be frustrated with him when he’s going through so much. But she’s entitled to her anger the same way Jacob’s entitled to their misery. Jaiden can’t bottle it up and shelve it for later like he can.

Besides, maybe the truth is just painful enough to cut through the fog. 

She waits until she’s calmed down enough to retreat out of her bedroom to grab her suitcase. It’s right outside her door, rolled neatly to the side so she wouldn’t run into it. Across the hall from her, Jacob’s door is closed, the light on. 

An olive branch.

Jaiden rolls the suitcase in, too tired to unpack it, and crawls back into bed. She is not in the mood 

They don’t eat dinner together that night. 

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Halfway through drafting her next animation script, stuck on whether it’s too long for a single video, Jaiden jumps at the sound of a crash from somewhere in the house, like glass breaking. It’s loud enough for her to hear through her headphones. She rolls her chair back, pops her head out of the office, and calls out to Jacob.

No answer.

There’s no other sounds, like Jacob’s usual grumbling and complaining when something goes wrong, but instead an unnerving silence. 

Jaiden looks around, sees no cats, no birds. She walks to the kitchen. 

The week-long tension has lasted since Jacob forgot her at the airport. They’ve been talking, at least, too lonely to ignore each other for long, but they haven’t shared meals much. The strain on their relationship has never been so tight, to the point that they haven’t even mentioned it since. But she has to make sure he’s okay. 

When she wanders into the kitchen, Jacob is already there, back to her. He stands with his hands outstretched in front of him. As Jaiden walks around him, she sees blood pooling in his open palms, dripping down his knuckles and to the floor. One of his mugs lies shattered at his feet. 

He must've dropped it. So where’s the blood coming from?

“Jacob?” He doesn’t turn, but she knows he heard her. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I just…” Jacob clenches his fist, hissing at the pain, and uncurls them.

“Okay.” Jaiden roughly swallows. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

When she returns from the bathroom, arms filled with gauze and rubbing alcohol and the thinnest pair of tweezers she could find. Jacob has not moved an inch. She steps in front of them, gently wraps her fingers around their forearms, and pulls them to the kitchen sink. Jaiden turns the cool water on over the cuts, hoping it’ll run clear after a few seconds. 

That’s when Jacob jumps. He flinches, then whispers, “fuck.” 

The water must sting. She sees a glimpse of him come back, clarity through the mist.

“Sorry.” Not really. She’s just glad he’s speaking.

The cuts aren’t as bad as they're bleeding. Most of the damage looks shallow and small, save for one wide wound running diagonal between his middle and ring finger. His hands are shaking. 

As she plucks the smaller slivers of red-stained ceramic from his skin with the tweezers, Jacob keeps hissing but keeps still. Jaiden pulls a larger piece from between his thumb and forefinger that makes him jolt. Once she’s sure she got them all, she pulls his hands back under the water.

When she lets him go to grab the alcohol, she realizes that she’s shaking too. Jaiden isn’t squeamish by any means, nor is she calm in dire situations. She falls somewhere in the middle, strong willed enough to clean him without but unable to stop the heat from growing behind her eyes. 

“I don’t think you need stitches,” she says, swiftly wiping away the tears before he sees them, “but I think we should still go to the ER.”

“I don’t… want to.”

Jaiden frowns but nods. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

Jacob flinches when she pours the alcohol over his hands. The bleeding is slowing down, but it’s still not enough for her to wrap the wounds. She presses a thick wad of gauze against his palm. He whimpers a bit in pain. 

As she waits for the bleeding to stave off, she examines his face. There are drying tears on his cheeks, some unfallen ones collecting in the corners of his eyes. 

“Now can you tell me what happened?” she asks. 

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “I can’t explain it. I was getting coffee, and then I saw it and… I guess I was holding too tight. Then it shattered.”

“Oh.”

His face screws up tight, fresh tears falling. “Jaiden, I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Her heart cracks right down the middle. Jaiden shakes her head. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re going through a lot right now.”

“But that’s not the reason. At one point it’s just another excuse. That’s what you said, right?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says. 

“Then how did you mean it?”

She holds clean gauze against his palm as she wraps his left hand with medical tape, then moves to stop the bleeding on his right. 

“I can only help you so much,” Jaiden says. “I can do this for you. I can cook for you and clean your cuts and I can try to make you laugh when I haven’t seen you smile in weeks. But it doesn’t go far if you don’t let it, you know?”

She wraps his right hand, kisses his knuckles. He flexes them when she’s done, fingernails dark with dried blood.

“Thank you,” he says. “And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It was an accident.”

“Not that. You have to keep caring for me. It’s not fair.”

“I don’t do it because I have to. I do it because you’re my best friend and I like to help you.”

As Jaiden crouches to pick up the larger shards, stained with splashes and lines of blood, she realizes it’s not just any of Jacob’s mugs. It was an anniversary gift from her, a pale blue mug with Yoshi on it. One of his favorites, one that had collected dust behind all the others.

But the rest of their mugs are in the dishwasher from many days of putting off doing the dishes. He must’ve grabbed it, unknowingly, for his coffee, until he finally noticed.

Jaiden looks up at Jacob as he kneels down beside her, hand on her shoulder. 

“You don't need to do that,” he says, and there is something missing from his voice. “I know you’re busy and you might get hurt.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“You already do enough for me.” 

Jaiden hugs him. He tenses. She holds him as close as she can, feeling his quick heartbeat through his shirt. Her fingers cling to his shirt almost out of fear that he’s going to vanish at any moment. 

“I love you,” Jaiden says. “If you need anything—”

“I know. I love you too.” 

His arms wrap around her slowly, like he’s afraid to hold her, but he hugs her back. He rests his cheek on the top of her head, then pulls back. As Jacob grabs the broom from the pantry, Jaiden twitches, unsure if she should intervene. 

Jacob holds the broom with a loose grip, staring at the mug’s remains. 

“I can help,” she says almost pitifully.

“I’m not entirely useless, you know,” he says jokingly, but it falls flat.

“I didn’t mean it like—”

“It’s okay.”

It’s not. His hands are cut up like hell. He won’t be able to grab anything properly for at least a week, maybe longer if he’s not careful. And Jacob is hardly ever careful.

“You shouldn’t be grabbing anything with your hands like that. I’ll do it.” She takes the broom from him. Before he can protest, Jaiden adds, “I’m doing it because I want to. Now, shoo. I’ve got this.”

He watches her for a few seconds as she sweeps the mug pieces into the dustpan. She wonders if it’s because of what the mug means to him. Jaiden wishes she knew what he was thinking.

Jacob leans forward and kisses the top of her head. “What would I do without you?”

The thought of it shakes her to her core. 

When he leaves, Jaiden waits to hear his bedroom door close before fully sinking to the floor, knees digging into the hardwood. She curls over herself, rests her head on her forearms. Then and only then does she allow herself to cry. 

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jacob has been pulling away. In increments at first, now in strides. Jaiden can practically feel it, like the threads of fate that bind them are growing tighter and thinner the farther he retreats into himself. And she is totally fucking helpless to stop him. The closer she gets to cracking him open, the tighter the threads grow.

He fumbles around on his guitar from his studio. The music doesn't sound like anything yet, the chords plucky and discordant, but it doesn’t need to. 

Jaiden has her back against the inside of the closed studio door, Switch in her lap. They both pretend like she’s not there. She has better things to do than to sit there: work she can finish or chores she can finally get around. Instead, she sits, his own personal guard dog, protecting him from something neither can see nor fight alone.

The strings go mute as his hands clamp around the guitar neck. Jacob’s shoulders curl forward, head falling to his chest, and he cries. He doesn’t kick her out, like she thought he would. 

“Jacob?” She says his name quietly, so if he doesn’t want her, he can ignore her.

“I’m crying. Why am I crying?” He laughs a bit and presses a fist to one eye, his other hand going pale where he clutches the guitar. “What the hell am I even sad about?”

Jaiden approaches him with feather steps, afraid he’ll bolt if she moves too quickly, and rests a hand on the back of the chair. Jacob allows her to turn him around, hiding his face with a curtain of silver-blond hair. 

She threads her fingers in his hair, pushing it from his face. “Do you need a reason?”

When he looks up at her, pitiful and watery-eyed, she sees right through him, as if she’s seeing the inside of a demolished mirror. The threads between them loosen. Jacob looks shattered, powdered glass dust. He shut his eyes tight, tears spilling like an overflowing kettle from the corners, and his breathing quickly becomes labored. She swears she can hear his heartbeat in the air, but it might be her own.

Jacob hugs her, pressing his face into her stomach. Jaiden’s free hand lands on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, unsure what she’s comforting him about, but knowing he needs this. “I’m right here. You’re okay.”

She rests her cheek on the top of his head, holds him while he cries, unable to do much else. She hopes it’s enough.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

There is blood in the sink. Jaiden doesn’t know where it could’ve come from, or why it’s everywhere, but makes her skin crawl in a way she can’t describe.

Half-afraid that Tostada or Fraiser finally got a hold of her birds. She rushes to their room upstairs, only to be bombarded by chirps and talons by Tofu and Ari upon entry. Jaiden has never been more happy to be attacked. Neither are hurt. The cats look scratch-free as well.

She checks her own body, making sure she didn’t hurt herself in an accident. It wouldn’t be the first time—she bruised a rib once, and she still doesn’t know how—but she’s clear, too.

Jaiden knocks on the door, then enters without waiting for an answer. Jacob is sitting on the floor, flipping through photo albums. His hair is unbrushed, glasses smudged, a hoodie over his pajamas. He half-faces away from her, but glances over his shoulder to acknowledge her entry. 

“Morning,” he says, not even looking up from the photographs.

“Did you cut yourself shaving?” she asks.

Tension ripples in his body like little waves. “Why do you ask?”

“There’s blood in the sink. I got scared, thinking maybe the cats finally got to the birds, but we’ve been spared a massacre for another day.” She pauses, waiting for his answer, then asks again. “So? Did you?”

“I, uh, I don’t think I did. Maybe.”

He tilts his head, and Jaiden can already tell that he hasn’t shaved in a few days. The edges of his beard are uneven, overgrown. No nicks, no razor burns. She narrows her eyes, but doesn’t call him on the lie.

Maybe he opened up one of the cuts on his hand and is too embarrassed to ask for help.

“How are your hands?”

Jacob turns his palms over, covered in the fresh bandages she put on him last night. “They look fine. But you can have a look, if you want.”

She joins him on the floor. They’re healing fine, despite how often he uses his hands, though the one between his thumb and index just refuses to stay closed. Jaiden ended up dragging Jacob to the ER the next day when she realized it wouldn’t close, but because it was twenty-four hours after the injury, they couldn’t do stitches.

Jaiden remembers what he mumbled in the car ride back. “It’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

“This little bastard better close,” she says, touching the outside of the bandage. 

Jacob offers her a tiny chuckle. “I know. It’s getting annoying, trying to doom scroll when I can barely move my thumb.”

As Jaiden examines his hands like his own personal doctor, she catches sight of blood on the cuff of his hood. “Did one of the cuts open?”

She reaches for it, but Jacob yanks his hands away before she gets the chance. He protectively tucks them under his arms. 

“I told you they were fine.” He speaks with finality, trying to end the conversation.

Jaiden pulls back a bit, hurt by his sudden shift in mood and tone. Again, she wants to ask if he’s okay, knowing she’ll get the same dishonest answer. He’ll say he’s fine, even if he’s not, and he’ll drink and fuck and pretend, and all Jaiden will be able to do is watch.

She stands, smiling so he doesn’t see how wounded she feels. “Okay, then. I’m gonna clean the sink. Do you want coffee?”

“Sure, sure.”

His attention is already shifting away. He touches the photos—his engagement, because she still has the wedding ones—and doesn’t speak again. Jaiden slowly closes his door, standing outside of his room for a moment before walking back to the bathroom. 

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jaiden flies to Arizona the day before Thanksgiving, practically forcing Jacob to come along. It was either he spends the holiday with family he’s less than fond of, which he loudly complained about for weeks beforehand, or on his own, the ultimate worst-case-scenario for an extrovert like him. At least her offer grants him an out from an awkward and politically-charged dinner.

The morning is slow, as the leadup to Thanksgiving tends to be. Jaiden plays with her nieces and nephews, gifting them their Christmas presents early as she’ll be with Jacob and his family this year. She doodles in coloring books with the younger children, plays Mario Kart with the older ones.

Sat at one end of the foldable tables, Jaiden skirts around questions about relationships and children by her aunts and uncles who don’t quite understand her career and don’t make an effort to. Having Jacob beside her only exacerbates the issue.

“Is he your… what do you kids call them now, partner?” one aunt asks.

Jaiden smiles politely, teeth gritted beneath. “He’s my best friend. That’s it.”

“Sure, hon.”

“I just got divorced,” Jacob aggressively adds to the conversation, which makes Jaiden’s aunt lean away in surprise. There’s animosity in his voice, challenging her aunt to respond to Jaiden rudely again. “So, yeah. We’re just best friends.”

God, she’s glad he’s here with her. 

Jacob is great with the kids, entertaining them with stories that sound rehearsed but she knows he’s coming up with them on the spot. He lets them climb him and holds his hands out so they can paint his nails. Jaiden doodles on the floor of the living room with the younger cousins while Jacob entertains the older ones. 

The heaviness on his shoulders loosen as the hours in the day wind down. He skirts around the alcohol, no matter how many times he’s offered a drink by Jaiden’s dad or uncles or brothers. She’ll never understand why it’s manly to drink; all Jacob is when he’s drunk is miserable. 

Dinner is a chaotic passing of turkey and salad and pie and mashed potatoes. Jaiden is trapped between Jacob and her older cousin. They spend hours catching up, awkwardly skirting around the uncomfortable topics bound to be brought up. Dating, politics, not living up to family’s expectations. It’s not as if her extended family can say Jaiden is a failure, as her parents and brother will defend her career vehemently when faced with opposition. Sometimes, though, Jaiden forgets how unconventional her life is as the mold-breaker of the family. 

Jacob is in the same boat. She wonders if family dinners in Oklahoma go the same way for him, if they constantly question who he is and what he’s doing and his falsely-perceived shortcomings. Because success doesn’t count unless it’s the kind that can be flaunted. 

Despite the discomfort, dinner is good. Jaiden is quiet, of course, but so is Jacob. Most of their energy went into entertaining guests while dinner was being prepared. 

Afterwards is the desperate attempt to fit as many dishes into the washer as possible. Jaiden washes while Jacob dries and her mother puts away.

Her love for her family always has the double-edge of guilt for not visiting as often as she probably could. Jaiden feigns business but in reality, traveling and spending the night in her childhood home is more much of a drain than the semi-regular phone calls. 

Jaiden’s parents are understanding, as she has always liked having her own space, but it’s different being gone for a night playing video games in her room and living halfway across the country. She sometimes forgets that this is her reality now, subjected to seeing family once or twice a year, then it’s back to the family group chat. 

Jacob laughs at something her Dad says, and he throws his head back so far he knocks into one of her cousins. They both fold into hysterics, and soon the kitchen is a mess of laughter. 

How could she forget? A piece of family is always with her. 

After the mess and clean up, her more distant relatives begin clearing out, thanking Jaiden’s mother for hosting and leaving with plenty of tupperware leftovers. Her parents retire to their bedroom, her siblings stay up in the living room for a while longer to watch a movie.

Jaiden is exhausted from socializing and eating, so she and Jacob hunker down in the basement with air mattresses and all the blankets her mom could find. It feels like a sleepover. Although they live together, sleeping every night a hallway apart, Jaiden hasn’t felt closer to him. 

The couch is one of those theater kinds, shaped in a giant bend around the TV. When she was a kid, they used to watch movies as a family, each with their own corner of the couch. As they got older and made friends, her house became the optimal place to have a sleepover.

It’s large enough for them to both sleep on it and still have space between them, but they decide to curl up on the floor as close to the TV as they can get. Jaiden puts on a movie, the volume almost muted, and wraps her blanket as tightly around her body as she can manage.

Their eyes are on the TV, but neither are watching. Jaiden’s mind is too distracted, unburdened by work long enough to focus on the other things she’s been avoiding. The things that Jacob, too, has been avoiding. 

He didn’t drink tonight, and Jaiden only had a glass of wine to tolerate her aunt. They’re both sober. That hasn’t happened in a long time. 

She turns on her side to face him, hands tucked under her head. Jacob’s wearing a sweatshirt, which is odd because he runs hot and thus always sleeps in short sleeves.

“Jacob,” she whispers.

He turns over, mimicking her pose. 

“Jaiden.”

“I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“Yeah. You are. But you aren’t.”

His hair fans over his eyes. She can’t tell what he’s thinking. Jaiden yearns to reach over, as if she’ll decipher his emotions from the creases under his eyes like braille off paper. 

“I’m fine,” he says, even though he’s lying.

Jaiden doesn’t respond. She lets herself indulge instead, playfully pokes his cheek to stop the moment from getting too serious. Her finger slides over tear-damp cheekbones.

“I thought it would help,” he confesses so quietly she strains to hear it even in the silence. “Drinking, I mean. And sex. I thought it would at least numb the pain. And it did for a while.”

“And now?” she asks. 

“It hurts. All the time.”

“What can I do?”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do. I’m not… okay.”

“That’s okay.”

A soft sob escapes him. “There’s something wrong with me,” he whimpers out, both hands coming out from under his blankets to cover his face. “Like, seriously wrong. I feel broken, and nothing works to help. Nothing is enough. I’m… not enough.”

He sits up, curling his limbs into his body. The blankets slip away. Jaiden crowds him with her body, arms wound tight around him. 

“That’s why she left. I pushed her away, and I don’t even know why, and I ended up ruining everything because of it.” His nails dig into the skin around his face, leaving it pink and indented. “And I’m so afraid I’m going to do that to you, too. I don’t want to.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promises. “Don’t worry. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

For better or for worse. That’s what marriage is meant to be. 

Jaiden doesn’t harbor any hatred for Jacob’s ex, as she’s nothing but kind and understanding. She even reaches out every now and then to see how he’s doing, even though it only exacerbates what’s already wrong. Sometimes people simply drift apart, growing in different directions until it’s more harmful to stay together than to sever themselves while they still love each other. It’s mature. Healthy. Kind. 

But Jaiden thinks of vows, forever and always, in sickness and in health.

She stares at Jacob staring at the beer in his hand, standing in the hallway outside the kitchen where he can’t see. Jaiden only wanted a late night snack after working the day away, but now she’s transfixed, waiting to see what he’ll do. 

He stands in the dark kitchen, moonlight hitting the amber bottle in a way that makes its content look like liquid gold. Although he rarely drinks outside of parties or bar crawls, he always seems to go too far. Jacob sets the beer down, picks it back up. She can feel the consideration, the disdain for his own choices. Jaiden wonders what he’s looking for, drinking now, when it won’t do anything but hurt him. 

She takes a closer step, louder this time, so Jacob has time to react. He hides the bottle behind his back as she enters.

“Hey,” he says, obviously guilty.

She ignores it. “Do we have any veggie straws left?”

“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the pantry.”

“Sweet.”

Jaiden grabs her snack, taking a little longer in her search to give him time to make a decision. When she retreats from the pantry, the bottle’s gone, and Jacob’s peeling open a mini babybel wheel. 

“Are you done with recording?” he asks.

“For now.” She tears the bag open, eager to eat. “I swear, I’m gonna lose my voice again.”

“I think you’re getting better. Do you want me to make you tea?”

“Sure. Can it be chamomile? I have to wake up early to work on the in-betweens.”

He salutes her. “Yes, ma’am.”

They were at the worse, and now this is the better.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

In her efforts to help Jacob, she nearly forgot about herself. Winter comes, and with it the darkening of her thoughts. She hoped it’d be easier this time around, being medicated and attempting healthier life choices to mitigate the depression, but it’s almost always the same. 

She stays cooped up in her room for days, eating little and showering for hours. Her appetite dwindles into nausea. Getting out of bed is about as easy as pulling teeth. The hot water keeps her animated, allowing her some reprieve from the cold air, but it isn’t enough to get her into her office.

Jacob and Deanna notice, of course, but both respect her privacy enough to not barge in and demand she comes out. Jaiden sometimes wishes they would, even though she knows it wouldn’t change what she’s feeling.

It’s not even anything particular that weighs on her. She has no stresses besides a few deadlines to cope with. Depression is sneaky like that. 

Someone taps on her door. Jaiden tells them to come in.

“Hey, Jaid,” Jacob says. 

“Hey,” she responds.

“I brought you a sandwich.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know.”

She lies on the floor, legs parked on the wall, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes burn from exhaustion but she’s too tired to fall asleep. Jacob walks into her room, closing the door behind him, and sits parallel to her, feet to head. 

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” She doesn’t even have the energy to look at him. “I think my brain hates the winter.”

He chuckles. “Mine too. Did you take your meds?”

“Yeah. I don’t feel any different, though. It sucks, I do so much to stop it, and I still end up here.”

Jaiden is honest with Jacob because she knows there’s nothing she can say or do to scare him away at this point. Of all the things she’s uncertain of in her life, and there are so many, that is one thing she knows with her heart. If he wanted to leave, he would’ve already, and she would’ve done the same. But they are too entangled to leave now. They’re two trees inhabiting the same roots. 

“Is there anything I can do?” he asks. “‘Cause you know it scares me when you don’t eat.”

She holds her hand out for the sandwich. Despite feeling no hunger, she chomps it down, more for his sake than her own. At least now she’ll have some energy.

“If you’re busy, you don’t have to stay,” Jaiden says, “but I’d like it if you did.”

Jacob rests his face against her calf. “I think I’ll stay.”

They lie on the floor, talking on occasion until Deanna comes home hours later with pizza. Jaiden feels okay enough to eat with them.

It doesn’t get easier after that, but it doesn’t get any harder.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Are you going home for Christmas?” Jaiden asks.

She’s sitting behind Jacob in his recording studio, having rage quit her own ironmon stream after nonstop technical issues. Tostada refuses to climb off her chest, keeping her trapped.

Jacob spins around in his swivel chair. “Yeah, probably. My parents said they want to come down to spend it with us, but I think it’d be easier for me to go to them. How about you?”

“My folks are coming here. My brother, too.”

“Nice. We’ve got plenty of room.”

As Jacob fiddles with audio settings and Jaiden scrolls through her phone, she realizes that this will be the first Christmas they spent apart since meeting. They’ve been attached at the hip for years now, being basically one person. She has no idea what the holidays will be like without him.

When she voices this, Jacob chuckles.

“Yeah, I’m not excited,” he says. 

“How come? It’s Christmas. I know you’ll miss me, but—”

“It’s the first Christmas since…” His voice trails off as he tries and fails to say Her name. Jacob harshly clicks down on his keyboard and slides away from his desk. “Let’s just say I’m not excited to hear all the inevitable shit talk. Especially since I’m going alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaiden says dumbly, unsure what else to say. “I mean, if you want, I can go with you. I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s fine. I’ll survive.”

She wants to argue with him, but she doesn’t. It’s useless. “Okay. I’ll call you. And if you need me, I’ll be there.”

There’s a smile in his voice when he says, “you always are.”

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Their house is filled shoulder to shoulder with faraway friends, all of them mingling as the countdown on the TV alerts them of the oncoming New Year. Jaiden sits on top of the kitchen island with Adriana standing between her legs as they chat with Ross and Giwi. They all have drinks in their hand, most of them tipsy and a few already very, very drunk. She’s not surprised, as many started pregaming before arriving at Jaiden and Jacob’s place, and they haven’t stopped since.

From the living room, Jaiden can hear Jacob and Dash singing two beats behind the karaoke song on the TV. There’s a group of them in the backyard, smoking and chatting while waiting to see which of the neighbors is stupid enough to set fireworks off in California. 

Jaiden’s cheeks are warm with alcohol, body loose and lax. She rests her chin on top of Adriana’s head as Giwi recounts a story.

“And I could see them taking photos of us from the corner of my eye, so before I even realized, I spun around, grabbed their phone, and held it over my head where they couldn't reach,” she says. “And these are kids, you know, like fourteen, and they’re tall for their age, but I’m taller. So while Ross is apologizing to their parents for me, I’m yelling at these kids like I’m their mom and I make them delete the photos right then and there.”

“It was really hot, but I was so scared we were gonna be yelled at by the kid’s parents,” Ross adds. “We got lucky they were so understanding.”

Giwi rolls her eyes. “Oh, I could’ve taken them on too if they wanted to fight.”

“I know, but I don’t want to be kicked out of another Costco. There’s no others close to our house.”

Jaiden snorts a bit, gesturing with her margarita glass. “Oh my god, didn’t that happen to you two after the friend’s award too? It’s like people don’t care about privacy.”

“I know! Thank you, Jaid.” Giwi clinks her glass against Jaiden’s. “I’m going to get arrested one day for breaking someone’s phone, and you guys are gonna have to bail me out.”

Ross pecks her cheek. “Don’t worry. I have enough to bail you out.”

She turns to him, and they kiss. Jaiden yells PDA at them, eliciting numerous middle fingers. 

Adriana is swept away into another conversation, and Ross and Giwi have resorted to making out in the corner, so Jaiden grabs a refill of her drink and wanders into the living room. Jan is lounging on the couch with Wolfey and Smith, a beer cradled between his legs and another on his hand. 

“Hey, Jaiden!” Jan waves her over. “What’s up?”

Jaiden perches herself on the couch’s backrest, legs pinned between him and Wolfey’s shoulders. “I’m escaping being trapped by a gross couple. How’s the states treating you?”

“Alright. I'm still a bit jet lagged, but the alcohol will help.” He holds up his beer bottle as reference.

“Oh, yeah, you definitely won’t remember you’re jetlagged when you wake up hungover as fuck tomorrow.”

They continue catching up, as they haven’t seen each other in person since Japan, and she misses hanging out with her friends in person. Although many of them live close enough to get dinner with—Los Angeles has to be half YouTubers at this point—so many of her closest friends are hundreds of miles away, even across oceans. She’s lucky they could even come for New Year’s. 

There’s enough time for maybe one song left, and someone puts on Whitney Houston. As the world rings out with drunk singing, Jacob weaves his way to Jaiden, pulling her to her feet. Jacob has on ridiculous New Year’s glasses pushed up into his hair and a long sleeve cowboy shirt that she doesn’t remember him owning. He fills up her glass with more champagne and grabs a glass of his own.

This is the only night where Jaiden won’t chastise him for drinking because there’s no way she could stop him if she wanted to. Besides, she’s drinking too, far past her limit. She doesn't drink often anyway, and wants to take advantage of having the party at home to get as drunk as she wants.

While her vision has vignette and her body is warm and limp, she can see in Jacob’s eyes that he is fucking gone. They’re glazed over, an inebriated blush running from the tips of his ears down his chest, where he has more than a few of the buttons of his shirt undone. He looks almost sunburnt, he’s so red. Jaiden holds him steady with a hand on his arm. 

“Got any resolutions?” she shouts over the music.

“Get another YouTube play button, I guess,” he responds, grinning. “I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you.”

“Shut up.”

It’s finally sixty seconds before the New Year. Everyone gathers in the living room, sitting and standing anywhere there’s space, all holding up their drinks as they count down aloud. As they switch off the karaoke and pull up footage of the ball drop in New York, Jaiden winds an arm around Jacob, who instinctively pulls her into him. 

“Three, two, one!” Jaiden tosses back her champagne in a single swallow, grimacing with a smile as it burns the way down. Everyone bursts into cheers. “Happy New Year!”

A hand reaches for her, pulls her into a hug. Jaiden giggles and hugs Jacob back, snuggled into the heat of his side. Outside, the world bursts with chemical technicolor. 

“I’m glad you look so happy,” she tells him, knowing he probably can’t hear her over the cheering and chatter. “I hope this lasts forever.”

He looks at her suddenly with a delirious, unsure expression. His eyes are wide, mouth parted. She can't figure out what he’s thinking.

For a moment, she wonders if in her drunkenness she said something different than what she thinks. But Jaiden has no idea, looking into Jacob’s watery, faraway eyes how he’s reacting to it. Is he surprised? Angry? Just drunk and happy?

With the hand that was around her face, Jacob cups her face with one hand. His hand is hot, a little rough from playing guitar. He leans down to her. His eyes flutter, mouth purses. Despite her synapses being slowed down by alcohol, Jaiden realizes just in time what he’s doing before it happens.

Oh, God, he’s trying to kiss her. 

She slaps a hand over his mouth, holding him an inch away from her face before he irreparably changes their friendship. A nervous laugh rises out of Jaiden’s chest like champagne bubbles, a weird and drunk safety mechanism. That must be enough to startle Jacob back to his senses, as he pulls back, eyes widening with a similar realization. He suddenly looks sober again. 

“Oh, my—” Her hand slips from his face, revealing a contorted grimace. Fear blooms in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupts him. “We’re drunk.”

It’s not that she’s never thought of kissing Jacob, as he’s her best friend and she loves him more than anything. But, like with everyone else, she knows it’s not something she wants.

A part of her still expects to fall in love with him because that’s just what happens. And what she thought was a crush when they first met was just that platonic eagerness for a new friend. She knows that now, and the thought of kissing him now is the same thought of putting her fingers in an outlet. All that will happen is a painful blowout. 

Jacob steps away, head in his hands, spilling champagne over his shoulder without flinching. “I thought because it’s you, and I trust you, maybe it’d be okay. I should know better, I shouldn't have— I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I—”

“It’s okay,” Jaiden repeats, louder this time, worried about him spiraling. “I know you kiss all of our friends, and I’m honestly surprised I haven’t been on the receiving end yet. We’re okay. Really.”

Jacob is already walking backwards, frantic and in his own head, vanishing in between their crowd of friends like a damn magician. Even as she chases after him, Jaiden quickly loses track. Some people stop her to give her hugs, to take a toast with her. 

Concern trickles in. She looks for him a little longer, but she’s so drunk she keeps getting distracted every now and then by conversations and following one of her friends for another drink in the kitchen. 

Eventually, Jacob returns from wherever he went to hide and rejoins the party. Although he keeps his distance, the event is mostly forgotten. Jaiden keeps drinking. So does he. She hopes they don’t remember this tomorrow, just so they don’t have to deal with it. Jaiden really doesn’t want to have this conversation, hungover or otherwise. 

Their friends trickle out as early dawn sets in, grabbing Ubers back to their homes or hotels. Some crash in their guest rooms. Jaiden drunkenly finds her way to her own bed, grateful for the relief as she pulls off her shoes and closes, and collapses.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Sleeping in after a party is always the best, but waking up is hell. The hangover is an invisible vise around her skull, squeezing tight, tight, tight. Even though she didn’t get blackout drunk, she got close. Time seems to be catching up to her and retroactively making her a lightweight. It doesn't take too many drinks to cause a migraine the next morning.

Jaiden throws herself out of her bed, covered in sweat and the smell of firecrackers, and blindly finds her way into the bathroom. She showers until she feels mostly normal, gulps down the water bottle she thankfully remembered to leave in the bathroom for any other drunks who wandered in, and brushes away the taste of champagne out of her teeth. 

And then reality walks in.

Jaiden watches Jan stumble into the bathroom just like so many other one-night-stands before him. She’s seen many expressions on his face, but never that deer-in-headlights look she’s become familiar with. He looks about as startled to see Jaiden as she is to see him even though she lives there. She pulls her toothbrush out of her mouth and spits into the sink.

“Dude.”

Jan’s light brown hair is a mess, glasses masking the dark circles under his eyes from a long night of drinking and games. His neck is covered by the hood of his jacket, but Jaiden can guess what it’s hiding. He’s wearing the same shirt she saw him in at the party last night, in addition to Jacob’s sweatpants. She thought he’d gone back to his hotel with Mari, but he must’ve stayed the night. Jaiden can hazard a guess as to which room he crashed in. 

“Uh.” Jan pushes up his glasses, eyes on the floor. “Good morning.”

“You’re kidding.” She doesn’t mean to sound angry, but she is. 

An embarrassed blush creeps across his face. Jan stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I know, I’m irresistible.”

Jaiden shoots him a disgruntled look. Her eyes instinctively dart behind him. Before she even sees him, she knows Jacob’s in the hallway. She turns back to the sink and rinses her mouth, ignoring him. 

He stops. Again, Jaiden is met with that deer-in-headlights look, his eyes wide, mouth trembling in a thin line. 

“Shit.” He smiles, teeth gritted. “Hey, Jaid.”

“You’re fucking kidding.” 

She doesn’t know who she should be more pissed off with: Jacob, who knows better than to sleep with a friend when he’s in this state, or Jan, who simply knows better.

Jacob approaches silently. Jan looks at Jacob, then Jaiden, backs out of the hallway. “I’m, um, gonna, yeah. Bye.”

He walks backwards out of the kitchen, then into Jacob’s bedroom. 

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jaiden finally faces Jacob, who flinches at her disappointed look alone. 

“Seriously?” she barks, not caring about how loud she is. “Jan?”

“Well, you don’t have to be mean about it,” Jacob jokingly replies, blatantly ignoring the anger in her tone. He won’t meet her eyes. “He’s a handsome guy under all the stoicism and arrogance. Besides, he’s always going on about the cat ears and—”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She crosses her arms, feeling like a scolding mother, but she can’t help herself. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t try to deny it; they both know Jaiden can read him like a goddamn book. 

“Jacob, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“Oh, grow up! It’s just sex. And this is Jan we’re talking about. It’s not like we’re going to fall in love. We’re adults, we can handle a little hookups among friends.”

“Exactly. This is Jan, my friend. Our friend. This is not some random stranger you picked up at a bar that you can ghost like from frat guy getting hazed. He’s not someone you can discard when you’re done feeling lonely.”

He recoils, an injured look crossing his face. “I wouldn’t—”

“Yes you would. And you have. So many fucking times too. I get you’re hurting and I get you’re looking for comfort in the people who you love and who love you, but this isn’t the way to do it.”

“Yeah, well, how the hell would you know about that?” he barks back. “Since when have you become a fucking expert in hooking up with friends?

Jaiden’s mouth curls as her voice drops. “It’s not like I had a choice when I’ve been in the front row for your horny little pity parties. I’ve been watching you systematically dismantle your entire fucking life for the better part of a year. And I’m trying so hard to be understanding and to let you work it out on your own. But not only tried to kiss me last night— me, dude—but you slept with one of our closest friends! And why? Because you can’t handle spending a single goddamn night alone?”

“Look who’s talking. Just because you’re terrified about ending up alone doesn’t mean I have to keep myself away from taking advantage of opportunities,” Jacob says, near-shouting. “Your insecurities are not my concern. And don’t act all high and mighty about the ethics of having casual sex with friends, like you would even understand. You barely know how to keep your friends close.”

His words land like fell stingers in her chest, sharp and burrowing. Jaiden’s jaw clicks as she shifts it from side to side. He’s speaking about himself, projecting that onto her, but it’s a fear they so clearly share. And she will not have her fears weaponized.

They stare each other down, neither backing out. Jaiden steps closer into his personal space until Jacob steps back, and then the regret sets in. Guilt flashes in his eyes, but he’s either too hungover or proud to apologize. Or both. His face remains twisted in a scowl. She wonders if she still looks angry, or if he can see through the mask and see the hurt.

It doesn’t matter. Neither of them are willing to admit they’re wrong. 

“Say that shit to my face when you’re not hungover,” Jaiden hisses in his ear, “then I just might believe your bullshit.”

She brushes past him, holding her tears long enough for them to fall only when she’s out of sight. Her shoulders tighten to avoid them from shaking, but the tremors remain in her hands. 

Jaiden knows Jacob doesn’t mean any of what he’s saying, he’s only lashing out like a child because he feels cornered and scared, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. A misfired bullet can still hit a target.

Her heart is pounding in her ears like a war drum, and she doesn’t know why, but she’s far more scared than angry now. Whatever she’s afraid of, she’s not quite sure, but she feels it lingering like a shiver threatening her spine.

Jaiden slams the front door behind her, sits down on the porch stairs with equal force, and bounces a bit off the concrete. She lifts her knees to her chest, arms winding tightly around her calves to make herself as small as possible. She hoped the winter air would clear her mind, freezer-burn away the anger and fear and allow her to approach this situation with a clear head. Instead, it makes her tears cold.

Jacob is getting better. At least, she thought he was. Was she kidding herself, hoping he found his footing so she didn’t have to do it for him? She can only hold him up for so long before she collapses, too. And she feels herself collapsing. 

The door gently opens behind her. Jaiden doesn’t turn around, hiding her face in her raised knees.

“I don’t know if you smoke or not,” Jan says, sitting beside her,” but is it alright if I light one up?”

She waves at him with one hand, still not looking his way. “Go for it. I can’t stop you from doing anything.”

Jan sucks in a sharp, pained breath. “Okay.”

He flicks his lighter on, then Jaiden smells the bitter waft of cigarette filling the air. Jan gives her space, calmly smoking at her side in silence, but his presence alone is a comfort. Jaiden finds herself leaning into him, to keep warm. He lets her.

Eventually, she whispers, “I yelled at him.”

“I know. I heard.”

“I didn’t mean to. I have to say sorry.”

She doesn’t move.

“I should probably go back to my hotel,” Jan says after a while, his voice low and careful. “I don’t want you guys to fight over this.”

Jaiden bites back her frustration as she replies, “Don’t go. It’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t want him to leave because of her anger. It’s not him she’s angry at, nor really Jacob. It’s the position Jacob is putting them in, testing the sanctity of their friendship for something as silly as a drunken hook up. 

Okay, maybe she is a little mad at him.

“It isn’t his, either.” Jan taps away the ash from the cigarette’s end.

Now that she’s right beside Jan, Jaiden sees the hickeys along his throat, the irritated, pinkish skin around his mouth and jaw from Jacob’s beard. He’s smoothed his hair out of his face, glasses resting dangerously low on the bridge of his nose. For someone who she knows must be as hungover as her, Jan looks ridiculously put together. He always does. His damn stoicism always seems unshaken. Irritation flashes through her like a static shock.

Jaiden stares at the cigarette pinched between his teeth. What is it about him that Jacob was drawn to? He’s attractive, Jaiden knows that objectively, with a bit of a mullet going on and a confidence that feels poised even when offscreen. For someone whose entire internet caricature is being an asshole, he’s kind in person, goes out of his way for his friends. Apparently, sleeping with them sometimes, too. 

Despite their rivalry, Jan and Jacob got along well when the cameras were off. Their friendship was sudden and unexpected; Jacob really thought Jan would end up being that same pompous jerk offscreen, and Jan confessed to Jaiden months after their soul link he was afraid Jacob hated him because of the initial impression he made.

Jan watches her in turn, pulls the cigarette from his mouth, and offers it to her.

“Not to advocate for smoking, but nicotine helps with the migraine,” he says. 

That makes her crack a smile. She takes the cigarette, holds it like a wand. Jaiden dabbled in smoking and drinking when she was younger, like everyone else, but none of her friends really smoked, and so she never felt that same social pressure as Jan must have.

But she’s curious, believing somewhere in her hungover mind that maybe if she can get closer to Jan, if she can see what Jacob saw in him, then maybe she can understand Jacob better. Maybe she won’t be so angry anymore. 

Jaiden inhales a small, curious puff. It barely reaches her throat before she coughs. Jan rubs her back as she recovers.

“You alright?”

“I always forget you smoke.”

“I’m European. We all get nicotine addictions at thirteen.”

“Right. And we’re the fucked up country.”

Jan chuckles a bit. She hands the cigarette back. The smoke curls around them like clouds, obscuring the details of his face. 

His eyes are a pretty shade of cobalt, and he’s gotten leaner since getting into his proud new workout routine. Jaiden wonders if that was the appeal, or the new false confidence he holds himself with. She wonders if that’s what Jacob was thinking, or if he wasn’t thinking at all. 

Jaiden is unsure if her love for Jan as a friend clouds that judgment like it does everything else. But maybe that was Jacob’s reason. It’s not purely from attraction but trust, mutual love. 

“Do you want coffee?” she asks. 

His light eyes follow her as she stands, as if he’s analyzing her. Whatever he sees makes him frown. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Jan finishes his cigarette and follows her back inside. 

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It’s the same routine she’s done so many times before. Coffee, awkward small talk, staring at different corners of the room before one of them breaks the silence first. At least then it was with strangers. But this is fucking Jan. They’re friends, really good friends, too close for this bullshit. 

“I’ve gotta ask,” Jaiden says as Jan sits where Pretty Jess and so many others sat months ago. “Why?”

He shrugs, hiding his face behind his mug of coffee. “It was a spur of the moment. After Japan we had this… weird energy between us, and last night things happened pretty quickly.”

“Who started it?”

“I couldn’t tell you. We were drunk, and we’re both fresh out of relationships. It was probably just something we both needed.”

Jaiden tries not to judge Jacob for the things he does to cope. She can’t imagine the pain of divorce, even an amicable one, and the emotional rebuilding that comes in its wake. But she’ll be damned if she stands by and watches him destroy a friendship out of self-sabotage. 

“I hope you know that this is a thing with him,” she says quietly. 

“I know,” he replies. “He told me before. Gave me a reason to bail. I didn’t.”

“Okay. As long as you’re aware.”

Jan watches her from across the kitchen island, his eyes sharp as ever. “Do you think I’m going to be scared away so easily?”

“Are you?” she asks.

“No.” He says it quickly and sounds like he means it. Jaiden loves Jan, but she doesn't trust as easily as she used to. She’s been burned by loved ones before. “Even if he pushes me away, I’m not going anywhere. We’re friends before we’re anything else.”

Quietly, he adds, “Do you… think I’m going to hurt him?”

“It’s not that, it’s—” Frustrated, Jaiden pinches her nose. She is too hungover to be having this conversation. “Ever since… you know, Jacob’s been weird. He’s drinking more, sleeping around, he’s just been off. And I’m trying so fucking hard to help him get better, but it’s like nothing’s changing. If anything, he’s getting worse.”

“I get it. I mean, I’ve never been divorced, but the end of any serious relationship really sucks. It feels like things don’t get better until they do.”

“But things won’t get better if he keeps doing this to himself.”

Now, Jaiden doesn’t know much about sex, but she knows a lot about self-sabotage. She’d seen it in herself during her darkest hours, when eating was both punishment and indulgence. Hurting herself was easier than trying to get better, because healing took too much energy, and there were times Jaiden would rather die than heal.

It comes to her swiftly, like a knife in the gut, that the reason he tried to kiss her was to ruin them, too. Because if Jaiden won’t stay, who else will? 

Before she can stop it, she tells Jan, “He tried to kiss me last night. Like, actually swooped in as if this were a Hallmark movie. I stopped him, and we were drunk so I know he wasn’t thinking clearly and he probably doesn’t even remember, but still. He tried. And I’m scared about what it means.”

His eyebrows twitch with surprise. “Oh, wow. I didn’t expect that.”

“I didn’t either.”

“So you think he came to me because it didn’t work with you,” he says.

“I think he’s trying to burn bridges, and because you’re… you know. You. I think he thought it would work. And I don’t know what to do.”

Jan leans over, gently scoops her hand into his. It’s hot from holding the mug. “Look, I know I can’t do much from Germany, but whatever he needs, I’ll be there. And I’m here for you, too.”

“I’m not the one who needs it.”

“Really? ‘Cause to me, it looks like you both could use a friend that’s not each other.”

It’s like a switch is flipped. Jaiden scrunches up her face to stop the tears before they can even form. 

“I can’t—” She slaps a hand over her mouth to stop the sob from coming out. “I have to be there for him, like he was for me. I can’t just break like this.”

“Jaid, you don’t always have to be strong,” Jan says gently. “The thing about loving someone is we take turns falling apart and staying together.”

As Jaiden’s shoulders begin to shake, Jan rounds the kitchen island in a flash. He pulls her into a hug, her face pressed to his sternum, his chin on her head, arms wound tight around her. She cries quietly, afraid of Jacob hearing, but it hurts too much to hold in any longer. Jaiden fists Jan’s hood and muffles her sobs in his chest.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“You’re pissed at me,” Jacob says. “So, get it out.”

He’s sitting on his bed, head in his hands, the door just open enough that Jaiden can see the mess that’s become his room. She stands in the doorway. 

They’re both still feeling the aftermath of the hangover a day later, but no amount of coffee and water and bread is going to get rid of the headache left by their argument. Jaiden hates arguing with him. It always feels silly, being angry, especially when the feeling lingers but she forgets why she was mad in the first place.

This, though, could linger for a while if they don’t figure it out now. 

“I’m not angry anymore.” I’m fucking terrified. “I’m just concerned.”

“Right.”

“I already said what I wanted to say yesterday,” Jaiden adds. “And I don’t want to start the new year being absolutely pissed at you. So, now you tell me. Why?”

“I needed it.”

“You said that about drinking, too.”

“I know. But it’s different. Sex for me isn't about sex, it’s about connection. And that’s what I needed. I needed to know I could still feel normal.”

She crosses her arms, more to comfort herself than anything else. “Is that why you tried to kiss me? To feel normal?”

Jacob nods, and she can feel the shame emanating from him. “The worst part is I knew what I was doing. I mean, I was absolutely blasted, but I knew what would happen if I tried and I did it anyway.”

“But why? You knew I’d reject you, right? Or did you think I’d let you and then leave?”

His shoulders tighten, hands trembling where they clutch his hair. That’s enough of a response as she knew she’d get.

“Do you hate me?” he whispers. 

Jaiden chews on the question, knowing her answer but afraid they won’t believe her. “Obviously not. I never could. Not even when you do stupid shit like sleeping with our close friends.” 

“He said it was fun, that it wasn’t a mistake, but I can’t—I think I wanted it to be one. I went in wanting him to leave angry. Why would I do that?”

She hugs herself, needing comfort. “Jacob, I think you should go back to therapy.”

Their eyes flash with fear. “You think there’s something wrong with me.”

Yes.

“I didn’t say that.”

“I can practically read your mind, Jaid. I know what that tone means.”

“You are combusting. You can’t keep going like this. And I can only do so much for you. Look, I’ll drive you, I’ll be there every step of the way. But you need to go back.”

“I’m an adult, you can’t tell me what to do.”

“Right, because you sound so mature right now.”

They stare each other down. Jaiden’s mouth twitches with more to say, but she keeps her tongue still.

Jacob looks away first. She won. “Fine. I’ll do it. Mom.”

“Good.” As he closes his door, she says, “I love you.”

The door clicks, and he replies, “I love you too.”

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It’s not the crash that wakes her. Jaiden jolts up a second before, like some sixth sense drawing her from her sleep. Before her eyes have had time to open, she hears the heavy crack, then a subsequent series of crashing. Tostada flies off the bed, curling up in the corner in fear. Her eyes reflect in the dark.

Adrenaline throws her out of bed. Half fearing another break-in, Jaiden reaches for her phone in case she needs to call the cops. She blindly stumbles out of her room and, to her confusion, finds the bathroom light on, gold light escaping its open door. 

“Jacob?” she calls out in a sleep-gravelled voice. “Are you okay?”

When she gets no response, she walks towards the bathroom. She can hear water trickling. Anxiety truckles in with each step, although she’s not even sure what she’s afraid of. 

She enters the bathroom, unsure what she’s looking at. Until she is.

Jacob lies half clothed on the bathroom floor, his back against the open sink cabinet. A belt is wound tied around his throat. The leather digs painfully into his flesh above his Adam’s apple. The other end is attached to the sink pipe that’s been pulled free from beneath the basin. His eyes are half-rolled, his face turning red from pooling blood and lack of circulation. 

At first, Jaiden is certain she’s hallucinating, because she knows Jacob, and she knows him. He wouldn’t do this. He’s getting help. Jacob would’ve come to her first if he was thinking of—

Would he? They’ve been fighting. Things have been weird since the New Year. He probably doesn’t trust her anymore. This can’t be real. He wouldn’t. 

But this is real. And when it finally strikes her, Jaiden begins to scream. 

Jacob’s eyes dimly focus on her for a small fearful moment before she throws herself at him. She struggles with the leather noose around his neck. Jaiden tries her best not to panic, to let logic handle the unbuckling, but she’s crying too hard to think properly. Her vision turns washy with tears.

It takes her an excruciating few seconds to pop the prongs from the holes—holes made specifically for this, she thinks feverishly, meaning he fucking planned this —before she finally gets it free. 

The moment she gets it loose, Jacob gasps loudly. He flails a bit, clawing at his throat despite Jaiden having removed it completely. 

Relieved, Jaiden rests back on her knees. She gives him a moment to catch his breath before rearing back and smacking his leg hard. Jacob yelps.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” she shouts with no anger, just icy terror. “Who the hell do you think you are, thinking you could just—don’t do that to me!”

He lets her continue yelling, blue eyes wide with tears, staring like he can’t believe it either. When she runs out of momentum, Jacob slumps forward into her. His forehead rests on his shoulder, hands on her thighs. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice is rough, broken. “I don’t know what I was thinking?”

“Have you been drinking?” she questions.

“No, no. I’m… tired.”

That’s worse than if he were just drunk.

“Why?” She knows it’s not fair to demand an answer so soon, when he probably wasn’t thinking straight, but she can’t think of anything else to say. 

“Because I keep thinking my broken fucking life is going to get better. And spoiler alert: it hasn’t. And it won’t.”

“What? No, you—”

In a shaky tone, he continues, “It won’t, Jaid. I tried going to therapy, I tried drinking, I tried sleeping around and even hurting myself and nothing worked. It’s all just… temporary. Happiness never lasts. And I thought it was everyone else, but no. It’s me. I’m the broken thing that won’t heal. I keep hurting everyone.”

“You can talk to me,” Jaiden says, almost pleading. “You know you can. I’ve been here from the beginning, I’ll be here as long as I need to be.”

He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. Tears fly with the motion. “I’m not destroying the last thing I love that haven’t fucked up in my life just because I need to vent. I’ve ruined too many relationships, I’m too selfish. I’m tired of putting you through that, too.”

“You’re not putting me through anything. I’m here because I want to be. Because you need me, and I—I need you. And you can’t leave me. What would I do without you?”

“What you did before me,” he says simply, and that’s enough to make her start to sob.

Her life before Jacob doesn’t feel real. He’s always been a part of her as far as she’s concerned. Their relationship runs deeper than the last few years, it feels as though it’s lasted eons. It’s a redwood, there for so long that people don’t notice it until they do. And thinking of who she was before him and thinking of herself after is impossible.

“You’re ridiculous. There is no me without you. We’re intertwined down to the atoms, whether you like it or not. So you’re stuck with me. Which means you have to rely on me when you need me. Please, Jacob. Please.”

“Jaiden—”

“You need help,” she says. “Like, real professional help. Because this is beyond what I can help with. And I’m not talking about therapy either, because that’s obviously not working. I mean like…”

“Like a psych ward?” Jacob pulls away, taken aback by the suggestion. But she doesn’t see any refusal. “Has it gotten that bad?”

“You tried to kill yourself with our bathroom fucking sink. Yeah, it’s gotten that bad.”

As if he’s now realizing it, too, Jacob’s face twisted, eyes watering. He hides his face in his fists.

“It snuck up on me. I thought I was coping. I thought I could handle it.”

“It’s okay.” It’s really not. “I’m here.” She always will be. “But you need to get help.”

“Will you help me?” he asks. “I’m scared. I can’t… do this alone.”

“You’re not alone. And you won’t be.” Jaiden lifts his face, rests her forehead against his. “I’m gonna be there every step of the way.”

“Every step?”

“You know it.”