A/N ~ HEYYYY.

I've been missing for a while, and I hope no one's pissed, but if you are feel free to send me a violent threatening review.

That other story I had going there... I'm not sure what I'm doing. So hang in there and maybe I'll find out.

This is very long and rambly and gramatically incorrect, and it's supposed to be because I'm a delinquent. I spelled that wrong. But that's okay, I'm rebelling.

It's actually all run-on-y and probably annoying because Jade's confused and doesn't care about your feelings.

It's a song fic to 'Hello' by Evanescence. Review. Good luck to you.

The sound started out soft and slow, and everyone shut up immediately because the girl up on stage producing it was anything but soft and slow. She was fast, and impulsive, and predictable and two-dimensional and nobody could fathom how she was sounding so unlike herself. Nobody but me.

Playground school bell rings again
Rain clouds come to play again

And by now, no one's jaw remains closed. Everyone's just staring blankly at the stage, confused as hell. They're all just waiting for the tempo to pick up, or the lyrics to turn to some sloppy, pathetic ramblings about how a boy won't love her.

But it won't, and I know it, because she's told me things. So I just snap my jaw shut like the good friend I am and wait for it to end.

Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello, I am your mind giving you someone to talk to
Hello

And now? Now I'm worried. Now I'm having a fight or flight reaction, and I don't know how the fuck to calm myself down because there's nowhere to run and no one around who deserves to be hit.

Now I'm watching her every move, and reading into it all. Analyzing her like I've been taught in English. That nothing can be simple, that it's all so complicated, that everything's symbolizing something else.

That I can get something other than a hundred on a creative writing assignment, 'cause I'm not good enough, 'cause I wrote wrong just because I'm the only one who understands. And yeah, I know these are run on sentences. That's because I have too much to say so I want them to be.

If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream

And now it's about me again, because I'm so goddamn selfish I can't even watch her and try to understand her without going into a philosophical debate.

I can't even realize that she's looking directly into my eyes and I've never wanted to close them so badly in my life.

Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken
Hello I am the lie living for you so you can hide
Don't cry

I refuse to. Because if I did, all those moments curled up in her bed under her covers with her finding some nonexistent square inch of space between me and my defenses and shoving herself right in there like a sliver come back to me.

We can't have that, now can we? We agreed to never speak of it. We agreed to let those moments rot in a vault of memories that I keep in such high security, I can't even get in myself.

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello, I'm still here
All that's left of yesterday

And her eyes are closed now, and with a sudden stab of realization I know that this isn't for me anymore, and that it never was and I'm a fucking lunatic for even thinking that for a second. And I realize that that was the most amazing thing I've ever heard in my life with no competition, and I can't even begin to explain what happened in my brain when she hit that high note.

But it wasn't for me, and at the same time it couldn't have been for anyone else, because no boy could know her as well as I do, and it's so fucking unfair that they get to touch her, and make her feel special and shit like that. And, sure, I get to do it too. But not without guilt that she doesn't understand how much it means.

'Cause she's so fast, and impulsive, and predictable and two-dimensional and nobody could picture her as anything else until now.

And now I'm scared, 'cause she's not an idiot. And of course she fucking understands how much it means, I was the idiot for thinking she wouldn't.

The only thing that comforts me is that she hasn't kicked me out yet. When it's dark in her room, and my hands are cold, so I press them against the skin of her stomach. And she giggles, and squirms around. And she cuddles into my chest and whispers about how cold my fingertips are. And I run them around her waist and press them into her back, bringing her as close as possible and whispering about how warm she is and feeling none of this.

And sometimes, when she's really tired but doesn't want to sleep, like a kid (I think I'm some sort of twisted, lucky pedophile), she mumbles to me. And it makes no sense, but not in her usual way, just in the frustrating I don't get it way, and I urge her to keep going, and every word she forces out from between her lips is etched in my brain for a later time, when I can decode it. When she can.

I don't realize that I'm backstage until her hair surges into my vision and she's smiling like a little kid again. That girl on stage is gone, that emotional, fucked-up girl that I fell in love with in spite of this one, whom I am already in love with.

Now I feel like I'm cheating on her, which is so fucking wrong. Because I'm not with her at all, and it was just another side of her that I fell in love with. But I don't believe that that was her at all, because how could this innocent, pathetic, obviously-straight girl look into my eyes like that? How could she scream at me like she knows who the fuck I am and then come back here and pull herself together and be fine?

And who else could make me feel like that?

"Jadey," she whispered in that voice that I hope to God is only for me. Smiling like a lunatic, running to me, jumping in my arms. Staying there like she likes the feeling. Hopping down when she realizes she shouldn't.

And I smile, like a good friend. It comes out more of a sad smirk, but I don't mind and she doesn't seem to notice.

She drags me by the wrist into the hallway, and down it, and she goes to the janitor's closet and closes the door behind us. And then she turns to me, and she starts to cry in my arms as if she's never cried in her whole life.

I hold her, and I act like this makes any fucking sense, and I whisper in her hair and cry in it, too. We fall to the floor. Pretty soon we're both sobbing and acting like dramatic idiots who only have each other, and I hate that but I wish it was accurate.

And she yelps out that she loves me, and I feel my heart stop because it wants to pretend that she means it.

And she pulls away from our embrace and presses her lips to mine, and I'm tense for a bit because I'm waiting for her to pull back and laugh, and say it was a joke, and 'why didn't you freak out, Jade?'

But she doesn't, and I decide rationality can fuck itself, and our tongues meet and so do our breasts, and our hearts. And she calls out my name in the most broken, pathetic voice I've ever heard that's muffled by my mouth. And it's beautiful, so I flip her over and straddle her, because I just want her to feel safe, dammit.

And we kiss, and we fuck – but it's not that, it's more – and the scent of cleaning supplies dulls the climax I bring her to, but she doesn't complain. And she takes charge, and it's a compilation of the best sensations my body is capable of feeling, so I understand why.

When it's over, she says she loves me again, and I believe her and force, "I love you, too," up out of my throat no matter how much the truth hurts. And we lie there a while, and she falls asleep, so I dress us both and carry her to my car.

Her parents ask her how it went. She says perfectly. We go to her room. I kiss her goodnight, and then I leave. I wonder how I could get so lucky and what karma must have in store for me after this good streak that I don't deserve.

And that's all the resolution I'll ever get.