Status: Completed
Psyche
13
The afternoon brings a dull sunlight and a stinging coldness into Jean’s room. He buries further into his sheets though he’s wide awake and can’t sleep anymore. He eventually burrows out and looks at his phone for the time. He has a few text messages but ignores them and looks at the two missed calls.
One from Lewis and one from Alexandria.
A flash of anger, of resentment comes, but he kicks it back down. He calls her back before he loses his nerve, and she answers after the second ring.
“Hul – looo?” Alexandria greets, unnervingly cheery compared to Jean’s mood. He says nothing, thinking maybe he can quietly hang up or just say he dialed her number by mistake.
“Hello? Jean?”
“You called me?” he goes ahead and ask.
“Yeah, I did. Ah, were you sleeping? How are you?”
Jean turns onto his back, eyes set lazily on the ceiling. “I was and so far my life is bordering fantastic and complete shit.”
“Sucky.”
“I visited Jamie a few days ago though.”
“Yeah. How that go?”
“You mean he didn’t tell you?” he gasps.
“Why are you so snappy?” she asks and Jean wishes he could throw his phone at her face.
“Things didn’t go well.”
“Oh,” and that’s all she says. He expects her to prod more information out of him, like she normally does, but she merely stays quiet.
“What do you want, Alexandria?” Jean yells. “God.”
”I don’t – I mean, see how you’re doing? Talk about Jamie, and stuff.”
Jean snorts and he can’t help the bitterness that spills out of his mouth. “I’m tired of everything and I . . . I really don’t want to talk about Jamie right now.”
“Why?”
“I’m done.”
“What do you mean you’re ‘done?’ Why would you say that?” she shouts, voice sounding like static.
Jean is unaware of how pale his fingers are becoming from gripping the phone so tight. He resists the deep urge to smash it against the wall, pretend it’s Alexandria, Jamie, himself, and watch it crumble into plastic pieces and glass.
“’Cause I can’t fucking deal with anything and I really don’t like you right now,” he admits, and while she stutters he keeps talking. “You and Jamie can get together and figure out you two’s messed up problems, but I’m fucking done, bye.”
He hangs up, tosses the phone on the floor, and feels like the worst person to have ever been born.
*******
When tomorrow comes Alexandria tries to not let everything that happened between her and Jean get to her. But every so often she feels the need to call him and ask what did he mean her and Jamie can get together? Why did he sound jealous? Jamie’s her friend, and they’re just close. It’s nothing like – and she’s assuming – what Jamie and Jean have. Or had. She’s not sure anymore. She wants to call him but knows he won’t answer. After a brief internet searching to see if Artemis Phantom is playing anywhere and a little coaxing to her dad, he drives her to Monroe, where Artemis Phantom is doing a mini acoustic set.
After Dawson tells her to come down the street to the coffee shop when she’s finished, she rushes into Monroe. Several people sit cross-legged on the floor, surrounding Artemis Phantom, while others hang out at the back with their arms crossed, bobbing their hands.
Alexandria goes near the bar so she can still see the boys but Jean can’t spot her. His head is low, eyes staring past the audience, and not completely there mentally as he sings.
Songs that are usually cheerful are now a mess of bitterness and regret. He doesn’t want to be there, but the audience doesn’t seem to notice. If anything they probably think it’s a new version, or since the song is being played acoustically it sounds different from the louder version. The band continues on and Jean’s voice rains melancholy on Alexandria’s head.
She holds back once the show is over, giving the band time to do their thing. The whole time she sees Jean faking it: forced smiles, painted on cheerful exterior. When she hears someone ask if he’s okay, she thinks she hears Jean answer I was a lot better before, but it’s nothing big.
She dashes to him when he steps away from everyone, and before he can flip her off or run away she grabs his arm.
“We gotta talk, or I can talk and you just listen,” she stresses. Jean looks annoyed before shrugging and leading her to the upper level of the club. Usually people would be there to watch a show from above but today it’s empty. They sit at a table and Jean sneers at her.
“I should’ve known you were gonna come after me,” Jean says, slouching in his chair. His eyes are heavy and dark, and for a moment Alexandria is somewhat afraid of him. Immediately after she gets a strong need to comfort him, to hug him, but she holds back for now.
“What was up with you yesterday?” she asks.
“You really want me to explain?”
“Yeah, since now not only do I have to worry about Jamie, I have to worry about you, too, apparently.”
“I don’t need you babying me.”
“I don’t care.”
“If I tell you will you leave me alone?”
“No.”
Jean laughs so loud several voices stop and people look up at them. He waves at them before looking back at Alexandria.
“While I was visiting Jamie, everything was cool, and then . . . I guess we hate each other now,” Jean rushes, frowning. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“He doesn’t hate you and you don’t hate him,” she says. “You can’t just ignore each other or be bitchy about it ---“
“You don’t even know why we were arguing. You can’t tell me what I should feel or do or anything. Why can’t you just back off?”
He thought her eyes would widen and she would stutter as she tried to find something to say. She simply looks at him, unnerved, keeping her peace like his comment did nothing to her. For a second Jean wonders if he’s the one sounding whiny.
He really hates her.
She rubs her forehead and then slams her hands on the table, rattling it. “You know what? Just forget it. This is pointless. I don’t even know why I’m here anymore,” she squeaks, face bunching up like she’s going to brawl.
“It’s just, I don’t want to lose him,” she goes on. “You don’t either. That’s why we have to be there for him. You know he’s leaving tomorrow for that place right? I’m freaking out because what if he doesn’t come home better? What if he tries to hurt himself again? Especially since –“ and she stops, not sure if she should say the rest.
She decides not to.
“I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” Jean murmurs, and once again he feels frightened.
“Yeah,” she sighs, wiping her nose and standing up. “I . . . I’ll go now. But, um, just know, you don’t need to be ‘jealous’ or whatever. Of me and Jamie. He likes you so much. I don’t have what you have with him. And I won’t ever.”
She leaves and the only thing on Jean’s mind is him taking up drinking, so he can get drunk and forget everything.
One from Lewis and one from Alexandria.
A flash of anger, of resentment comes, but he kicks it back down. He calls her back before he loses his nerve, and she answers after the second ring.
“Hul – looo?” Alexandria greets, unnervingly cheery compared to Jean’s mood. He says nothing, thinking maybe he can quietly hang up or just say he dialed her number by mistake.
“Hello? Jean?”
“You called me?” he goes ahead and ask.
“Yeah, I did. Ah, were you sleeping? How are you?”
Jean turns onto his back, eyes set lazily on the ceiling. “I was and so far my life is bordering fantastic and complete shit.”
“Sucky.”
“I visited Jamie a few days ago though.”
“Yeah. How that go?”
“You mean he didn’t tell you?” he gasps.
“Why are you so snappy?” she asks and Jean wishes he could throw his phone at her face.
“Things didn’t go well.”
“Oh,” and that’s all she says. He expects her to prod more information out of him, like she normally does, but she merely stays quiet.
“What do you want, Alexandria?” Jean yells. “God.”
”I don’t – I mean, see how you’re doing? Talk about Jamie, and stuff.”
Jean snorts and he can’t help the bitterness that spills out of his mouth. “I’m tired of everything and I . . . I really don’t want to talk about Jamie right now.”
“Why?”
“I’m done.”
“What do you mean you’re ‘done?’ Why would you say that?” she shouts, voice sounding like static.
Jean is unaware of how pale his fingers are becoming from gripping the phone so tight. He resists the deep urge to smash it against the wall, pretend it’s Alexandria, Jamie, himself, and watch it crumble into plastic pieces and glass.
“’Cause I can’t fucking deal with anything and I really don’t like you right now,” he admits, and while she stutters he keeps talking. “You and Jamie can get together and figure out you two’s messed up problems, but I’m fucking done, bye.”
He hangs up, tosses the phone on the floor, and feels like the worst person to have ever been born.
*******
When tomorrow comes Alexandria tries to not let everything that happened between her and Jean get to her. But every so often she feels the need to call him and ask what did he mean her and Jamie can get together? Why did he sound jealous? Jamie’s her friend, and they’re just close. It’s nothing like – and she’s assuming – what Jamie and Jean have. Or had. She’s not sure anymore. She wants to call him but knows he won’t answer. After a brief internet searching to see if Artemis Phantom is playing anywhere and a little coaxing to her dad, he drives her to Monroe, where Artemis Phantom is doing a mini acoustic set.
After Dawson tells her to come down the street to the coffee shop when she’s finished, she rushes into Monroe. Several people sit cross-legged on the floor, surrounding Artemis Phantom, while others hang out at the back with their arms crossed, bobbing their hands.
Alexandria goes near the bar so she can still see the boys but Jean can’t spot her. His head is low, eyes staring past the audience, and not completely there mentally as he sings.
Songs that are usually cheerful are now a mess of bitterness and regret. He doesn’t want to be there, but the audience doesn’t seem to notice. If anything they probably think it’s a new version, or since the song is being played acoustically it sounds different from the louder version. The band continues on and Jean’s voice rains melancholy on Alexandria’s head.
She holds back once the show is over, giving the band time to do their thing. The whole time she sees Jean faking it: forced smiles, painted on cheerful exterior. When she hears someone ask if he’s okay, she thinks she hears Jean answer I was a lot better before, but it’s nothing big.
She dashes to him when he steps away from everyone, and before he can flip her off or run away she grabs his arm.
“We gotta talk, or I can talk and you just listen,” she stresses. Jean looks annoyed before shrugging and leading her to the upper level of the club. Usually people would be there to watch a show from above but today it’s empty. They sit at a table and Jean sneers at her.
“I should’ve known you were gonna come after me,” Jean says, slouching in his chair. His eyes are heavy and dark, and for a moment Alexandria is somewhat afraid of him. Immediately after she gets a strong need to comfort him, to hug him, but she holds back for now.
“What was up with you yesterday?” she asks.
“You really want me to explain?”
“Yeah, since now not only do I have to worry about Jamie, I have to worry about you, too, apparently.”
“I don’t need you babying me.”
“I don’t care.”
“If I tell you will you leave me alone?”
“No.”
Jean laughs so loud several voices stop and people look up at them. He waves at them before looking back at Alexandria.
“While I was visiting Jamie, everything was cool, and then . . . I guess we hate each other now,” Jean rushes, frowning. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“He doesn’t hate you and you don’t hate him,” she says. “You can’t just ignore each other or be bitchy about it ---“
“You don’t even know why we were arguing. You can’t tell me what I should feel or do or anything. Why can’t you just back off?”
He thought her eyes would widen and she would stutter as she tried to find something to say. She simply looks at him, unnerved, keeping her peace like his comment did nothing to her. For a second Jean wonders if he’s the one sounding whiny.
He really hates her.
She rubs her forehead and then slams her hands on the table, rattling it. “You know what? Just forget it. This is pointless. I don’t even know why I’m here anymore,” she squeaks, face bunching up like she’s going to brawl.
“It’s just, I don’t want to lose him,” she goes on. “You don’t either. That’s why we have to be there for him. You know he’s leaving tomorrow for that place right? I’m freaking out because what if he doesn’t come home better? What if he tries to hurt himself again? Especially since –“ and she stops, not sure if she should say the rest.
She decides not to.
“I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” Jean murmurs, and once again he feels frightened.
“Yeah,” she sighs, wiping her nose and standing up. “I . . . I’ll go now. But, um, just know, you don’t need to be ‘jealous’ or whatever. Of me and Jamie. He likes you so much. I don’t have what you have with him. And I won’t ever.”
She leaves and the only thing on Jean’s mind is him taking up drinking, so he can get drunk and forget everything.