In This Starless City

Jack’s Point of View

“Let’s make sure I don’t remember a thing from this night,”

I had been standing about ten feet away from Charlotte for a few minutes when I heard her say that. And even though I had no idea what she had been talking to William about before that statement, I knew what she was insinuating when she glanced at me.

I didn’t know how else to explain to her that what happened in London was a complete misunderstanding. That that girl had mistaken me for someone else and while I had accepted that I may have taken her “misunderstanding” a little too far for a little too long, I had made to tell her that I was not the person she was looking for.

But it seemed like she knew that all along by the way she kept moving into me. And I felt like a scumbag for being such a testosterone driven guy and just deciding to roll with it for a while.

And I couldn’t chip away the vivid image of Charlotte when I looked up after that song had ended. Shoulders relaxed in realized defeat, mouth ajar in utter shock, but worst of all was her eyes.

Fuck, those eyes were the best and worst thing about her all the time. Frustratingly hard to read, but mind-blowingly piercing at the same time. And when I’d looked up at her that night, not even the strobes, spotlights, or reflections from the various disco balls or mirrors around the room could deter me from the hurt, betrayal, and outright hatred that was radiating from those green orbs. Somewhere deep within her, down in the cavernous depths of her very core, there were several things burning at once.

And that was the one and only time I had ever been able to read exactly what was going on inside her head: she hated me. I had been dying to be able to see into her thoughts, and the one time I was able to, it absolutely crushed me.

But I had no one to blame but myself.

I chuckled ironically. Funny how the world ‘blame’ ends with ‘me’.

I watched as Charlotte took the shot of whiskey from Bill’s hand and downed it. I swallowed, uneasiness swelling into my gut. Those eyes darted to me again, narrowed slightly, and then she was bounding away with Brendon in tow.

I took the baseball cap off my head and ruffled my hair, sitting down at the bar and asking the bartender for a beer. Then, Bill was in front of me on the barstool next to mine.

“Man, I don’t know what you did to her,” he started off as he placed his beer on a coaster slowly. “But you did a bang-up job.”

I grimaced as I took a swig of my beer. “Fucking A, Bill,” I murmured. “I have no idea what to do about this.”

He inhaled. “Have you tried talking to her about what happened?” he asked, clearly an innocent question. He was just a friend trying to help a friend trying to help a friend.

“She won’t even give me the light of day, man,” I say exasperatedly. “I’ve texted her and she doesn’t reply. I call her and she ignores the calls. I try to talk to her and she snipes at me and blows me off. She’s fucking keen on staying pissed at me and hating me and keeping me away from her.”

Will raised his hands. “Hey now, you did this to yourself.”

“Well, maybe if she gave me a cha--…” I tried to defend myself, but Bill got a little riled up then.

“You have absolutely no right to be pissed off at her because she’s hurt,” He says defensively. “All she’s doing is trying to take care of herself. She thought she could trust you; she thought she could depend on you; and even though you took it for granted for just a millisecond, even if you didn’t know you were doing it, you betrayed her and now all she wants is some stability because apparently, you shook her to her very core.”

Hearing someone else say what I already knew just made it hurt worse. I exhaled and looked down, losing interest in the beer that was on the bar beside me. I felt a hand on my upper arm and while my heart jumped, thinking maybe it was Charlotte, it was just Bill.

“I really fucked everything up, huh?”

He hesitated and then nodded, making me groan and my head to fall forward. “But nothing is irreversible.”

“Insightful,” I replied shortly before getting up and walking away. I wasn’t in my mind at the time but in retrospect, I knew why I had left Bill the way I had. Not because I couldn’t stand to hear what he was say because I knew it was all very true. No, it was because, though I didn’t realize it at the time, I was subconsciously worried about what shenanigans Charlotte might be getting herself into.

And I was protective of her whether she wanted me to be or not.

I weaved through the crowd, looking for any hint of her but coming up short. Being as she was rather short, wearing dark clothing and had dark hair, it was difficult to spot her in the lightless room.

Loud laughter erupted from behind me and when I turned to it, I saw Brendon and Spencer, both holding their guts and howling. Between them, there was a splash of dark hair disappearing between the people. I squeezed between Brendon and Spencer and darted after her, taking sharp turns and trying to cut her off.

And for the millisecond that I had lost her, I found her back at the bar, sipping a glass of coppery liquid while a guy that I did not know stood in front of her, smiling crookedly.

And all at once, I knew how Charlotte had felt the night previous. Only it had to have been about a million times worse. It had been her birthday and I had taken her out and had planned to make it the best night of her life. And then, I had proved my dick-of-a-friend status.

So, what right had I to be pissed that she was talking up another guy? None at all. But I was upset nonetheless.

I stood rooted to that spot, eyes throwing daggers into the man that was standing before my girl. Each time Charlotte’s eyes would drop to her drink on the bar or her shoes after he said something seemingly charming, his eyes would drop too. But I could tell he wasn’t looking away in bashful glee. No, his eyes were hooked on her in a way a python’s eyes get hooked on a little white mouse.

Bile gurgled in my stomach when I saw his white teeth bite down on his lip and I could almost hear his disgusting thoughts. But Charlotte was completely oblivious, of course. I cursed her insistence to always see the good in people unless shown otherwise. Why couldn’t she stick to her convictions when she was drunk?

Again, I had no room to talk. But my inflamed jealousy and sense of rejection was making it hard to focus on anything else.

The music faded away and there was nothing in the room except myself, Charlotte, and the prick. She was so open and waiting for something more and by that black, smoldering desire in his pupils and the way he kept scooting closer to her, that scumbag was only looking to score.

And then, his hands were on his hips and his lips were on her cheek and jaw and ear. He was whispering something to her and while my stomach was tumbling and growling in covetous rage at the sight of her lips twitching upward, my heart jumped when I saw her hands pushing him away from her.

But he wouldn’t budge. The small smile on her lips vanished, turning into a frightened cringe. His hands were now on her thighs and he was keeping her pressed against him while she writhed and objected.

My jealousy vanished, only to be replaced with sheer loathing, and I immediately darted to Charlottes side, ripping the prick’s hands off of her and shoving him away forcefully.

I had him beat in height by a good few inches, so even if I wasn’t standing at my fullest, I was still towering over him.

My veins burned like battery acid was pumping through them and I thought I’d kill him if I didn’t feel Charlotte’s hands on my forearm, grounding me, holding me back.

“What the fuck, man?” the guy asked, outraged, taking a step back toward me. Or maybe he was taking a step toward Charlotte. As the latter thought passed through my brain, I put an arm out and pressed my hand to his shoulder, pushing him away again. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” He was angry.

But I was positively livid.

“Don’t you fucking dare lay a hand on her again,” I say, absolutely no attention to the volume of my voice whatsoever. The music could’ve been off and I could’ve been screaming at the top of my lungs for no reason, but I didn’t know.

The guys eyes widened in confusion and fury. “Who fucking died and crowned you fucking king?” he stepped closer to me but I didn’t flinch. “Don’t be such a cock block, asshole.” He said this so only I could hear, confirming my previous beliefs.

My breathing was shallow and quick and my hands were in tight fists.

“Stop being an asshole and maybe you wouldn’t have to get girls drunk in order to get them into bed with you,” my eyes narrowed. “Or even be remotely interested in you, for that matter.”

I didn’t see his fist until it had connected with the side of my face, making me stagger backwards slightly. Charlotte cried out and for a moment I thought she had taken the asshole’s side. But I felt her hands on top of mine as I gingerly touched my eye. She was mumbling something to me, but I could barely hear her. My brain was exploding in happiness just by the fact that she was noticing me, touching me.

“Get the hell out of here,” I heard another voice and when I looked up through the eye that wasn’t in searing pain, I saw Pete Wentz shoving the guy back. He was looking ready to rumble again, but there were bouncers behind Pete and the guy quickly settled down, trying to compensate by shouting an apology my way. The bouncers looked at me like they were waiting for a cue. And after giving that shit-head the finger, they practically lifted him off the ground by the arms and escorted him roughly to the door.

My head was ringing and I straightened and dropped my hand, knowing that there was nothing I could do to prevent the black eye that I knew was already beginning to show.

“I didn’t need your help,” Charlotte says and I glanced down to see that she was still in front of me, eyeing my injury critically. “I was fine.” She sounded surprisingly sober.

I didn’t respond. I walked away. I didn’t know how else to prove that I was the one for her.

“Jack,” she called to me, but I didn’t miss a step. I wasn’t fazed whatsoever, unless you count the beat my heart skipped at the sound of my name through her voice. I had made it outside, into the pouring early-autumn rain, when she caught up and stepped in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say,” I respond, trying to sidestep her and get away, but she was determined not to let that happen.

“Yeah, clearly when someone pries a drunken bastard off a girl and then gets him thrown out of a club, that means they have nothing to say,” her face was hard and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“That was something I had to do,” I clarify halfheartedly. “Not say.”

“Well, you did it.” she says, still keeping me from walking away. “Now say something.”

I laughed breathily, stepping backwards and letting my hands fall to my sides heavily. “What do you want me to say?” I ask tiredly.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs with a sort of desperation in her voice. “Something,” she tried. “Anything.”

“Okay, how’s this?” Something had stirred to life within me and I stepped forward, causing her to flinch at the suddenness of my movements. “Charlotte, I’m not about to expel some heart-wrenching speech concerning my and your relationship,” I stepped closer again, this time carefully, giving her time to react. “I can sum up what I’m about to say in ten simple words.”

That grabbed her full and undivided attention. “And…what ten words of those?”

I raised my hand to her cheek and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and face. The deep city lights from the skyscrapers above were casting stripe-like shadows from her eyelashes and causing her green eyes to look bluish, like the deepest foamy green portions of the ocean.

She was beautiful. And I’d never wanted anything more in my entire life than her in that moment.

“I’m in love with you,” I say quietly, and her eyes widened slightly as she drew in a slow, deep breath. “And you should be with me.”

Our faces were just inches away from each others’ and I could suddenly feel her hands on my chest and collar bone, her fingertips tapping slightly. I wondered if she was shaking. If I had upset her with what I’d just said. But then, she was on her tip toes and her lips were pressed to mine and I could feel her smiling.

“For the record, I’d been waiting for you to say those eleven words for about two months now,” she laughed as I rolled my eyes before kissing me again, causing any substantial thought in my head to fly out the window to allow complete bliss to melt over my senses. “And I love you back.”

I didn’t care that I had been soaked to the bone from the evening rain. I didn’t care that the bruise around my eye was still throbbing and my head was still pounding because of it. I didn’t care about much other than the fact that I finally had what I’d always wanted in my arms.

And too much of that was never enough…