Live As If We Died

This day was one that I'll never forget. Not for how good it was, but for how incredibly horrible the beginning and end were. It was a Saturday, a rainy, damp Saturday that we decided to stay in during. The guys had been home for two weeks now, they were getting ready to record a new album - which told me that they'd be home for quite a while. I stepped out of the shower, got dressed, and headed downstairs. The boys were sitting in the living room, their faces with different expressions, and the TV was paused on the afternoon news. I looked at them with a confusing look for quite some time until I sat down next to Mike, who looked like he was ready to beat someone's ass, and lit up a cigarette. Jaime's face, on the other hand, looked like he was in disbelief and ready to tell a sad story.

I finally spoke, even though I was soon going to regret it. "What happened?" Jaime turned his head towards Mike and sighed. Mike responded to him with a nod.

"Babe," Jaime spoke with a soft voice, "there's been an accident." I didn't know what he meant by accident. Whether it involved someone they were close to, or someone I was close to. Or if it was someone we all knew, but rarely spoke to.

"Okay." That's all I could say. I wanted one of them to speak up and explain what had happened, but neither of them would. Finally, Jaime lifted the remote and pressed the play button and I watched intently, trying to take in what had happened.

"This morning around seven a.m. there was a crash on I-280. The driver was supposedly intoxicated and going over the speed limit. The car wrapped around a lamp-post, immediately sending the car up in flames. The driver is said to be Austin Lothrop of San Francisco. The passenger is still unknown."

Jaime paused the television once more and looked over at me. I felt my face go entirely pale and my hands started to shake with a vengeance. Tears swelled up in my eyes, but they didn't come down my face. I sighed heavily, looked down at the floor, and took a drag of my cigarette.

"Why is he such an asshole?" My voice was trembling. I couldn't even put the words together. My ex was dead and there's nothing I could do to bring him back to life. I hated the guy, yes. He treated me like shit for a while, but that doesn't mean we never had good times. And those exact good times were running through my head right at that very second. I thought about all the times that we would go to amusement parks, and watch movies, or go to concerts together. The way his laugh was enchantingly haunting and the way his eyes looked when he told me that he loved me. We didn't love each other near the end, but I never once would've wished death upon him. "Why would he do that?!" I yelled at the room. My fists turned into balls as I squeezed them together, turning my knuckles purple and white. I was ready to punch a wall and then go lay in Mike's arms and cry for hours.

Dodger heard me from upstairs and came down to inspect the situation over. He saw that I was angry and hopped up into my lap, trying to get me to settle down. "Daddy's dead," I told him. The dog acted like he knew exactly what my words meant. His tail stopped wagging and he put his paw over his eyes and started to make whimpering sounds.

This entire time the guys had remained quiet until I asked Mike for another cigarette. He passed one to me and lit it up. He shook his head at me and then pulled me into his chest, trying to calm me down a little bit. "I'm so sorry, querida." His voice told me that he actually meant it, but his voice and body told me otherwise.

In all honesty, he looked scared that I was going to up and leave him right there for the death of someone that I was over. He looked like he was fearful of something that wasn't going to happen because I needed him more than ever right now, even if it didn't seem like it.

Jaime placed his hand on my shoulder and started to rub my back up and down like he always has when I've gotten upset. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to feel. "What am I going to do?" I asked both of them as I stared at the wall across the room. I was in shock, I couldn't move.

"Grieve if you need to," Jaime told me. "Be a normal person about this, don't just act like the ex that hated him, okay?" I nodded at him, trying to figure out what his words actually meant.

"We'll both be here the entire way through," Mike assured me with a kiss on top of my head.

From this moment on, things were going to be a lot different for a little bit and I wasn't okay with that thought. I needed to make calls, I needed to call his family and friends to assure them that I was here for them and that I loved them. I did love them, they never did any harm to me. His mother, Connie, always told me how much of a daughter she had in me, and so did his father, Jeremy. I just didn't know how to get the words out and I didn't even know if a call was going to be enough.

"I need to go see his parents," I told both of them. I was sure of it, but they didn't think it was such a good idea. They said that I should wait until tomorrow, that they were probably in too much pain right now from the initial shock of the news. I started to agree, but I had to make my way over there sooner than later. "Okay then," I said after the told me not to, "I need a shot." I stood up and made my way over to the kitchen getting out the Bacardi. I didn't even take out a glass, I just took off the cap and started to throw it back.

"That's not a good idea right now, Jules," Jaime told me as he walked into the kitchen. He was always the big brother in my life, but right now I didn't want him to be that role for me.

"I need it," I protested.

"You don't need it, baby girl. You just want to numb the feelings. I let you drink any other time, but right now, please don't." He sounded sad when he looked at me. His eyes were filled with sympathy as he stuck out his hand waiting for me to put the bottle in it so he could put it away. After what felt like hours, I gave it to him and he put it away. I slammed my head into the counter, not thinking of what I was doing. "Come on," he told me, "I'll get you water and an ice pack and let's go back into the living room." I listened to him without saying another word. He was the only person who could do that with me. I always felt like I had to listen to him because he became so gentle when it came to my problems.

This was going to be a long day.