Hey Jude

Max stood atop the apartment roof, a waterfall of smoke escaping from his open mouth. It was the first time he picked up a cigarette since Jude left. Lucy was off somewhere fighting her "revolution". He wasn't really interested in what she was doing anymore. Sure, she was his sister, but after coming back from the war, anything that reminded him of it, whether it was for or against it, made his head injury hurt even more.

He just wanted his best friend back.

He leaned over the edge, staring down at the road below. It was practically empty, save for a few passing midnight street walkers, the flickering streetlight, and a banged up car that would pass by every few minutes. From this height, the street looked almost welcoming to him.

"I get by with a little help from my friends..." he sang softly. He broke his gaze with the street and turned around to face the night sky. Still leaning against the roof's edge, he brought his cigarette to take another drag, and blew the smoke out in an almost unseen puffy cloud of gray.

He shut his eyes and sighed, thinking about the friends he's had. Sadie and Jojo were out making music together. Prudence finally met the girl (which surprised him, because of all the times she slept with him) of her dreams. The two hippies, whose names he forgot, were traveling the country with Dr. Robert. Lucy loved her revolution, and possibly that Paco guy. He even wanted to go back to the University to see Caplan, Martin and Holbrook, but he was sure they either graduated or forgot the man he used to be.

He didn't care, really. He could go without seeing any of them. But not him. He missed the guy. His shaggy brown hair, his shining brown eyes whenever he smiled his timid little smile, his almost unintelligible yet adorable accent.

Wait. Adorable? What the hell?

His eyes flew open, his cigarette dropping from his fingers to the rooftop floor. He sighed, reaching for the box of cigarettes from his back pocket and the lighter from his other. He stared at the box, concentrating on its details; mainly on its crumpled plastic casing. It reminded him of something. For some reason, he could relate to it.

"Who the hell in their right mind relates to a fucking box of cigarettes?" he asked to the empty rooftop. He crumpled it in his hand and turned to throw it off the rooftop with all his might, a surge of anger suddenly raging through him. It hit the window of the apartment across the street with a loud "thud", getting the light to turn on.

"Shit," he cursed aloud as he turned to the staircase and ran, running down the stairs. He soon slowed down to a stop and held to the handrail to keep his balance.

His mind was racing. Thoughts were cloudy. He couldn't think of anything. The pissed off neighbour, his lack of friends, his lack of an overall life. And Jude.

Jude.

He turned around, still trying to regain his normal breathing, and treaded up the stairs. He had only one thing on his mind now. He finally got everything. The war, Lucy's revolution, his screwed up life, even why he related to the damn cigarette box.

The cool air hit him as soon as he opened the door to the rooftop. The window he hit's light was off. He stood at the edge again, and instead of looking down to the floor, he looked up at the sky.

His life was gone. Jude was gone. Lucy changed. Which pretty much was a part of the reason Jude was gone. He went to war, which got Lucy into the revolution, which lead to Jude leaving. It was all a fucking domino effect. And it was all his damn fault.

And the last thing he had, his crumpled up heart, his box of cigarettes, he threw away. He had a friend. Possibly a love. And he threw it all away.

"I miss you, Jude," he whispered to the silent night.