Hello! So this is my first JONAS fic. I'm a sucker for NACY. And I can say I'm sufficiently unhappy about the way this turned out. It's just not what I wanted. I think the next NACY I write is going to be from Nick's POV. I don't know how I feel about this. Regardless, please let me know what you think. Flames welcomed :)

I can honestly say you've been on my mind
Since I woke up today, up today
I look at your photograph all the time
These memories come back to life
And I don't mind

Sometimes she gets mad at the sun and she always ends up feeling guilty.

And really, it's not the sun's fault at all for being so bright, so easy to illuminate the cracks of doubt that lurk in her bedroom, and Macy wishes mornings like these she could just hide in her blankets forever, an abyss of down feathers that never let her down.

Okay, she's being a little overdramatic, but she feels as if she at least deserved to be melancholy even in her mind.

Her breathing is uneven, that pitter patter pitter patter that so restlessly woke her up and she is itching to just run. Because when she runs she feels alive, on fire, and it's so much easier to forget about him and his face and those eyes and that smile.

Ugh. Nick Lucas had a way of constantly sneaking into her mind and sometimes she wishes she minded more.

Squinting from the sun, Macy reaches over to her bedside table and glares at the clock. It's not even seven yet, but already the sun is teasing her, coaxing her out of this stupid funk she's been in for so long now, so long it kind of makes her sick.

She had another dream again. One where the dull thump ache thump wasn't where her heart should be. One where she was still her bubbly self, dancing offbeat but not really caring anyhow because she had the world's beauty all around her and for the first time in all her eighteen years of existence she actually felt beautiful. More than beautiful, because he had been kind of poetic, so he always made her feel special.

Macy sighs, deciding she really doesn't want to miss her last day of senior year, because really, even she is not that pathetic. As she sits up, pulling her wild hair out of her eyes she feels a little prick on her back and she frowns, pulling up the wrinkled picture she only subconsciously remembers falling asleep with.

It's a moment that has been captured, immortalized and part of her kind of wishes she could just burn it. (Okay, not just part of her, more like all of her). But then she looks at the way she was curled up in his arms, the way his lips rest atop of her head, the way the snow around them danced and played with their breath and her heart can't help but lurch again.

Damn. This whole heartbreak thing was really getting old. And yet if she closes her eyes quickly she can still feel the warmth of his embrace, the safety she felt in that place, the smell of his shampoo lingering on his skin, and actually she finds she doesn't mind it that much at all.

Which, she realizes suddenly as her mother knocks excitedly on her door, telling her today was the big day, that not minding at all is really the problem itself.

* * *

I remember when we kissed
I still feel it on my lips
The time that you danced with me
With no music playing

The senior class is forced to congregate in the gym before practice for the ceremony that is to take place that evening on the football field. The shiny, waxed floor sends a glare that kind of makes Macy's head hurt and once again as she's sandwiched between a guy she's never spoken to in all the four years of her high school experience and the wall of the gym, she is hit full in the face with memories she wish she could forget.

The principal is making some announcement, blah blah blah, and she feels her breath hitch as they are forced to line up in alphabetical order. Nick is a few spots in front of her, Lucas being before McClintock, Meddleson, and then of course, Misa.

From where she is positioned she can see the back of his curly head, the way his hands are stuck in his pockets, the way he's laughing something off to the girl next to him and she forces herself to look away. But everywhere she turns she's pummeled to death with these memories, memories that force themselves in her throat until she feels like she could suffocate under the weight of them.

Was it really so long ago Nick had twirled Macy around in this very gym, so long ago that the Winter Ball had occurred and she had worn a purple dress and he had told her how pretty she was, and they had suffered through the painful ordeal of pictures, and the teasing from Stella and Joe that although they had both graduated the year before they still insisted on acting as if they were so much older than Macy and Nick.

Macy tried to will the image of Nick leading her out into the courtyard, tried to will the sensation of the frosty night out of her mind, but she just couldn't. Her mother had always told her she had an overactive imagination, but really it was the colors and memories fused into her skin, to her core that she just couldn't let go of, even if it was killing her.

Perhaps she was a masochist or something.

As the seniors are being led out onto the school grounds they pass the courtyard and Macy actually thinks she might puke a little. And as she hears Nick laugh ahead with that girl, a large part of Macy becomes pissed off at the memory of Nick leading her into the courtyard, his large hands easily encircling her waist, singing softly a little melody of his own as the own music from the loud gym died away in the background.

Sighing, Macy realizes being pissed off doesn't solve anything. Because no matter how much her heart has learned to ache, Nick is a good guy. And for two years, he treated her like a princess, but sometimes these things just don't work out. Because Macy has never been the type of girl to really sweep a guy off their feet, to have a song written about her, to have anyone fight for her. She's simply cute, sweet, and athletic.

As she expertly avoids her eyes the minute Nick's head whips around in her direction, Macy just hopes one day these things will be enough for someone.

* * *

But I remember those simple things
I remember 'til I cry
But the one thing I wish I'd forget
The memory I wanna forget
Is goodbye

If Macy remembers correctly (which she always does) it had been a Friday.

Somewhere over the course of their junior year (they'd started dating the spring of sophomore) in between late night rehearsals with the band and practices with the many teams Macy was currently on, Friday nights had become their date night together. At first it had been simple, really. A walk to the park here, a coffee run there, but then somewhere along the line these simple little gestures got Macy through the week.

Dating a Lucas brother was not supposed to be easy, and Macy understood that. She understood school nights were devoted to rehearsals with JONAS, and Saturday and Sunday nights were spent traveling for shows or else preparing for the summer tour.

But Friday…Friday always belonged to them. Which is why, in retrospect, Macy realizes it hurt so much that it just had to happen on a Friday.

It had been March of this year. The sky had been cloudy, the wind cracked out. March had always been the worst month anyway.

He had picked her up as usual but everything was different. He was cold, she was fed up. There was yelling, and tears and words that felt so hollow and empty and she knew everything was just beginning to come to a close. Because really, she should have expected nothing less. She was going to California for school, JONAS was starting their world tour that summer. Honestly, did she expect their whirlwind relationship to last forever?

Yes. Of course she did. But Macy was always used to being a silly girl.

Macy shakes her head rid of this particular memory as she lounges on the lawn of their school, grateful the sun is shining and caressing her legs. She is also immensely grateful the senior class only has half a day, and she is free to leave in a few minutes to get ready for this evening.

"Hey you."

Stella's shadow cools off Macy's burning body and the latter offers a lazy grin to her best friend.

"Stell! What are you doing here?"

Stella smiles and sits beside Macy, looking a bit out of place in normal clothes. (Though normal clothes for Stella is still a completely decked out outfit that intimidates Macy's simple style).

"My summer vacation started a month ago, remember? The perks of college life." Stella studies her friend, then bumps her shoulder. The simple gesture is enough to let Macy know Stella is aware of the turbulent hurricane within herself.

"I think I'm finally ready to say goodbye to this place," Macy sighs, playing with the grass so her fingers turn green. Stella watches this with a hint of mild disgust, but Macy knows it's not for Macy herself but for the mess she is creating.

"California will suit you," Stella supplies. "You know I'm going to come visit you a lot, right? Rodeo Drive, here I come!"

Macy giggles and leans into Stella as the older girl plays with her best friends dark tresses. Macy wishes she could bring Stella everywhere with her, because when she's with her best friend it's harder to feel worthless.

"Come on," Stella urges, tugging on Macy's hand and whisking her up from the lawn.

Macy furrows her eyebrows. "Where are we going?"

Stella's laugh filters through the parking lot as she practically drags Macy to her car. "You don't think I'd let you graduate without getting my hands on your wardrobe, did you? Consider it a graduation gift. I'm going to make the natural knock out that you are on fire tonight."

Macy just laughs, having very little willpower to tell Stella no, I'm fine without wearing any make up, thank you. But since she feels so alone, and Macy knows after this summer things just won't be the same, because college changes everything, she allows herself to be taken away.

Her eyes glance involuntarily over the second youngest Lucas' car, which he is currently leaning against, face upturned toward the sky. For a minute as Macy is buckling in her seat belt in Stella's car, her breath is hitched as his eyes flick to her own. He doesn't look away, and his gaze is so intense Macy can't help but feel tears prickling her eyes.

She finally breaks the gaze, ripping it away and throwing out the window as Stella puts her foot to the pedal.

* * *

I woke up this morning and played are song
And through my tears, I sang along
I picked up the phone and then put it down
'Cause I know I'm wasting my time
And I don't mind

I remember when we kissed
I still feel it on my lips
The time that you danced with me
With no music playing

"I dedicate this next one to my beautiful girlfriend, Macy Misa. Without you, my love, I'd be a lost cause."

Macy snorts, entering her bedroom with a bowl of popcorn. Nick is seated on her bed his guitar slung across his lap, plucking a few chords to a simple melody that isn't quite finished. He has this goofy look on his face and Macy laughs, setting the popcorn down, still laughing about his fake dedication.

"Man up you sap," Macy teases and laughs when Nick pretends to frown she smiles. He puts the guitar beside her bed and opens his arms to which she happily enters. His body is warm and the combination of her bed and their skin touching makes Macy feel a little breathless. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her down so that hair is a curtain around their faces.

"Hi," Nick breathes, his voice raspy. Macy shivers as she feels his large hands trailing down her thighs and she's glad she wore shorts that day.

"Hi," she says back, biting her lip. Nick's eyes flick down and before Macy can even smile his lips are on hers, one hand tangled in her hair and Macy's straddling him and it becomes too much, but it's so wonderful and she imagines flying felt somewhat like this.

* * *

That's a memory Macy can't erase. It's days like those, when Nick and Macy would just hide away from the world, and nothing really seemed to matter anymore, that Macy misses the most.

Stella has finally finished project "Turn Macy Into A Bombshell No Matter How Uncomfortable It Makes Her Feel" and is steering her toward the mirror.

All the graduating senior girls have to wear white dresses, so that's not really the part that makes Macy feel beautiful. It's the gentle hairstyle Stella has created; and elegant and loose bun at the nape of her neck and Macy feels like royalty (though it couldn't be farther from the truth).

She can only stand looking at herself in the mirror for so long, and begins fiddling with her cell phone, wrestling with the old urge once again. Stella notices this and immediately clucks her tongue.

"I don't think so Macy Misa," she says sternly. Macy gives up, putting her phone down, knowing she'd just be wasting her time. If he wanted to talk to her, it would have happened by now. She needs to stop being such a fool.

"You ready to graduate?" Stella asks and Macy smiles, feeling something make sense. Because she does look beautiful. Because she is going to California in three months, she is getting away from this town, and maybe, just maybe she can finally start putting Nick completely behind her. Because though Macy may have been a bit too exuberant at times (most of the time), and though she was a sucker for 90s music (though she'd never really admit it out loud) and though she'd seen 10 Things I Hate About You one too many times, Macy never hated the person she was. And she'd be damned if a boy (because honestly, a man would have at least had the decency to acknowledge her presence anymore) could take away the person—the woman—she knew she was.

"Yeah," Macy says determinedly, feeling good for the first time in awhile. "I think I am."

* * *

But I remember the simple things
I remember 'til I cry
But the one thing I wish I'd forget
The memory I wanna forget

Suddenly my cell phone's blowing up
With your ringtone
I hesitate but answer it anyway
You sound so alone
And I'm surprised to hear you say

It's over and done with and wow Macy can't believe she's a high school graduate.

The parking lot is swarmed with teary-eyed parents and smirking siblings, flashes of cameras trying desperately to immortalize the moment when every eighteen year old has somehow made it out of adolescence alive.

When Macy's cheeks officially ache from smiling so much and she's taken pictures with about every single person she's ever met, she excuses herself from her parents, needing some privacy before her family whisks her off to dinner.

The softball field is Macy's haven of sorts. She finds herself abandoning her cap and gown at home plate, finds her feet taking her to the pitcher's mound and she no longer cares she's in a fancy white dress, no longer cares she's staining it when she kicks off her heels and sits on the mound.

Finally, she has some peace.

But the peace only lasts for a minute as she feels a vibrating sensation against her hip. She's confused for a minute, then remembering where she'd hidden her phone, she pulls it out from the elastic of her panties.

And then promptly gets the wind knocked out of her.

She begins freaking out a little, because really, why why why was Nick calling? She watched his name flash on the little screen and it was mocking her rapid breathing, mocking the pit forming in her stomach and nothing made any sense. She'd been waiting months for this call and finally to have it happen, she couldn't, no she wouldn't answer it, she couldn't give him that satisfaction.

But she realizes her heart has always been too soft anyway and it's kind of Macy's downfall, being a nice person. So she answers it.

"Hello?" She squeaks out, wishing she could have been somewhat smoother.

"Macy."

It's his voice that gets her—it's not how she remembered it being, so confident, so much more mature than his age, so far beyond his years. No. Although, it's true, she hasn't heard it in months, this still isn't the Nick Lucas voice she remembers. There is something hollow in it and it pounds through the phone, through her eyes, right into her core. She's breathless again.

"Macy," he repeats, and can Macy really let herself believe this is really, really happening?

"I'm here," Macy says, glad she's sitting down because she's pretty sure her legs have turned to jelly.

There is a rustling on the other line, voices in the background. He must still be in the parking lot, though the voices begin to fade.

"Where's here?" His question lingers in Macy's ear and she takes a shaky breath, willing herself to get a grip. She hasn't had to force such control over herself since her crazy fangirl days, prior to falling in love with a member of JONAS.

"I'm on the pitcher's mound," Macy hears herself say quietly, and immediately the line clicks off and Macy is full of anger. Anger at everything around her, anger at the fact that she answered the call at all because damn him. Damn him for making her hope, damn him for letting herself believe that maybe…just maybe…

She feels the tears coming before they actually spill over and she wishes for a moment the ground could just swallow her up, she could become part of the Earth, because at least Mother Nature loves all her children.

* * *

You remember when we kissed
You still feel it on your lips
The time that you danced with me
With no music playing

"Macy."

Her eyes snap open and he's there. Nick is standing before her, his tie loosened and his cap and gown draped over one arm. He's looking at her and she's suddenly humiliated by the tears so she immediately stops and stands up. She curses the dirt smudges on her dress. Lovely, this is exactly how she wanted to be found. By him, of all people.

"What—what are you doing here?" She manages to ask, pleased when her voice isn't shaky, though it does come out harsher than she meant. The evening wind is blowing her elegant bun even more loose but she doesn't care, doesn't care because she's having trouble breathing as he's coming towards her, slowly, but yes, there it is and now he's only a foot away and she thinks she might faint.

"I have to tell you something Macy," Nick says, and his voice is low and he looks so beautiful Macy wishes he would just go away. Who does he think he is, honestly, looking that amazing while she is mess?

She doesn't say anything, she just looks at him long and hard and he gingerly puts his cap and gown on the ground and comes over, looking frightened yet determined.

"Macy," he says her name and she can't help but feel alive. Nick looks so handsome and tall, so strong that Macy can't help but admire the man he's become. She offers him a gentle smile and it seems that's all he needs because he shakes his head.

"I should have never let you go," he says simply. It doesn't sound clichéd, doesn't sound cheesy, because his face doesn't really change when he says it and his voice is kind of monotone, but that's the way Nick always was. Simple.

"I can't do this—this living thing without you," he says and Macy has trouble believing for a minute this is real. "Everything reminds me of you. I can't escape you and I don't want to, I haven't stopped thinking about you since the minute we said goodbye, and I wish you could just forget that. I realized, Macy, I don't want to do anything unless you are there with me. And I understand—I get it if you don't want to take me back, I get it, but I…I just…I figured since it's graduation. I should tell you…that I love you. And I always will."

Macy's heart is a hurricane of emotions and she just stares at him in wonderment. He looks nervous, she can't help but notice, and something about his state of vulnerability and this declaration of love sends power into her bones and she feels so strong and independent for the first time in months. And she realizes the pain she's been feeling, he's felt it too. She can see it in the way his eyes are watering, the way his jaw is clenched and she knows it's from fighting too, fighting being a part because they were so desperately meant to be together.

"I've been trying to forget saying goodbye for awhile," Macy admits and Nick puts a hand in her hair and she closes her eyes briefly. But she's not naïve. She's not stupid.

"I'm going to California," she says and his eyes are dark. "You're traveling the world. We decided this was best, Nick. Those months ago, this is what we knew would work."

Nick just shakes his head and she remembers he's always been terribly stubborn.

"I want to make this—us—work," he says confidently. "We can, Mace. If you're willing, I'm willing. I only want you."

She knows really, there's no other option but him because in essence he's always had her heart. She feels free.

Standing under the night, it bathes the pair of them together and Macy finds herself in the arms of the only man she's ever truly loved. She realizes as the two of them talk into the night, forgetting about families and dinner reservations, that this is it for them, and honestly they wouldn't have it any other way.

You remember the simple things
We talked 'til we cried
You said that your biggest regret
The one thing you wish I'd forget
Is saying goodbye, saying goodbye
Ooh, goodbye

Gahhh. Definitely not my best writing, but ehhhhh what can ya do. Reviews are love by the way.