Chapter Text
"I love you," I say, fighting the urge to bite my lip as soon as the words slip out. The words are directed at 'Nancy,' Jade's character in the play our acting teacher forced us to do.
It's been over a year attending Hollywood Arts, and I still don't understand the intentions of my psychotic acting teacher.
"I love you," Jade replies, but despite the way she says it, full of emotion, I know she's just too good of an actor. One second, she'll be enraged, and she can blink, and her eyes are filled with misery. Also, it was directed to my character.
But still, I can't help feeling something, as if a small part of her meant it, but I highly doubt it. Even when she leans in to touch her lips lightly to mine, I know it's all an act, just a play written to entertain and amuse the audience.
I still can't help but feel something at this.
I'm in a daze when the audience erupts to their feet, hands clapping together. My 'wife,' grabs my hand, and we bow together, but I don't miss the strange look she shoots me.
I exhale in relief when she drags me behind the curtains, so we're hidden from the audience.
"Good job today, Vega," she tells me, and I turn to her in surprise, an eyebrow cocked.
"What? I can't give compliments?"
"You usually don't," I scoff.
"True," she relents, and I want to say something, but I don't.
"Cat got your tongue?" she frowns when I don't respond.
"Cat's over there," I joke, pointing to my friend of the name Catarina, "Of course she doesn't have my tongue."
"You know what I mean," she rolls her eyes, but I can tell she's amused, "Hey!"
"What?"
"Your untalented sister is hosting a party tonight, apparently."
"Yup," I pop the p, pursing my lips. "It's gonna be a disaster."
"Mhm."
I remember the last one with a shake of my head, the hours it took for Trina and me to clean up. I was still a freshman then and hadn't attended yet Hollywood Arts, but when I was offered the opportunity to attend this prestigious school, I took it.
But maybe that wasn't the only reason...
Air suddenly rushes into my lungs as I gasp, my throat closing as I do so, so I cough heavily, turning away as I hack into the crook of my arm.
"Vega? You okay?" she frowns again as my eyes water.
"Yeah," I gasp out, "Excuse me," I choke as I dash into my changing room, slamming the door behind me.
I put my elbows onto the table, slowly breathing as my mind whirls faster than a hurricane. This isn't possible. But what if...
It can't have taken me this long to realize. No.
My heart is pounding at the speed of a freight train, and I'm afraid I'm going to have a heart attack.
After all, I did sort of lie about my name too. Or at least my nickname.
I'd given her my full name, which, to this day, only my family knows. And... I'd told "Lyn."
Oh my god. How did I not put this together earlier? Two years later... and now I finally realize that girl I'd met that night was... Jade?
And did she not realize?
Now how am I supposed to tell her? She would kill me if she knew I'd seen her in the midst of a breakdown.
I quickly change back into my normal clothes, every attempt to calm my racing heart futile. This is absolutely insane.
She'd occupied my mind for the next year after that night, and I'd dated three different boys in an attempt to give me an emotion I'd felt I was lacking since... that night.
Sure, I'd liked them, but not a single one had been able to fill the hole in my heart that I couldn't decipher.
I was still a freshman, and awfully stupid to have not realized what was going on.
I grab my belongings and slip out the stage door, hurrying to Trina's car, before anyone catches sight of me.
I pull out my phone, tapping out an urgent message to my sister.
Just a minute later, she's here, frowning at me, "Why so fast?"
"I just wanna go home," I close my eyes, "Please."
"Oh. Okay."
She doesn't say another word on the way home and for once, I'm grateful for her off-key singing. It takes my mind off what is going on in my head, although not completely.
"Thanks, Treen," I sigh, almost having fallen asleep in the eight minutes it'd taken to get home.
"No prob, sis. Just... get your driver's license soon like a normal 17-year-old teenage girl," she blinks at me, and I nod, too weary to even lash back at the subtle jeer.
I stumble out of the car, throwing my door— which is, as usual, unlocked— open. I press my fingers to my temples, shaking my head as memories of that night flooded back to me.
Crashing into 'Lyn,' just in front of the stairs, helping her to a quiet bathroom where she had a panic attack.
And it was Jade all along.
In my defense, she had changed drastically. Her smoky makeup had disappeared, and her hair and changed from a light hazel to a jet-black, later lightened to a more natural brown.
But the streaks had stayed.
And although she had gained weight, her piercing eyes never changed, nor had to breathtaking face that never failed to make my breath catch in my throat.
But... why hadn't she recognized me?
Well... I did get rid of those god-forsaken bangs. And (not to brag) my cheekbones are more prominent.
"Tori!" my sister's voice, shrill as usual startles me out of my reverie, and I jump.
"What?"
"Help me set up for the party tonight," she whines, breathlessly dragging out a few plastic tables.
"And do we have permission for this?" I sigh, grudgingly acknowledging my parents aren't home.
"Mom and Dad aren't home for the weekend," Trina shrugs nonchalantly as she voices my exact thoughts.
"Again?" I groan.
"They're never home anyway. And this time, you actually do go to Hollywood Arts, so you're not getting out of helping me set up."
This time implied that there was a last time.
God, Tori, just stop.
"No," I grumble, heaving a huge sigh that could've knocked a tree over.
"What's wrong with you?" My sister eyes me suspiciously, her tone blunt. She's never really had a filter.
"Nothing," I snap back, maybe too defensively.
"Then help me!"
I exhale slowly, nostrils flaring in the slightest as I shake my head, "Trina. I'm not attending this party. You can't make me."
"Geez, Tori. Are you sick or something?"
"Possibly," I mumble under my breath, making my way up to my room.
I lay on my bed, screwing my eyes shut so tightly it hurts.
Out of all the people in the world, why did it have to be her? The girl hated me; she'd despised me since the moment she'd seen me at Hollywood Arts.
I had tried not to take it personally, as she is the clichéd mean girl with a dash of goth and a hint of masochistic sadist that typically appeared in romance novels and fanfictions.
But then, life isn't just a romance tale.
Disoriented and almost scared, I curl up on my side, trying to block out the fading light still streaming from the tip of the sun, which still peeked out from behind the hills.
Sleep washes the troubled pictures from my mind, only now they are real. Or at least the illusion of reality. That's the thing about dreams. They convert mere fantasies into a false reality that is always too far to grasp, too far to reach with the tips of my fingers and pull close, no matter how much I want to.
I'm shaken from my alluring dreams when Trina barges in. Without knocking.
"People are here," she barks, and a get I rush of déjà vu at the similarity of the situation.
"Okay, okay," I mutter tiredly, sitting up to rub my eyes.
"Get changed."
"I'm fine in a hoodie and jeans," I croak, clearing my throat to dislodge the dryness that has settled there.
"Fine. Embarrass yourself," she spins around and saunters out with an air of confidence (arrogance?) I don't think I could ever muster.
I scoff, shoving my fists into my jacket pockets with an eye roll that would've matched Jade's, who had rapidly... declined —for a lack of a better word, after sophomore year. She started wearing darker clothes, threatened to physically harm people (although she never carried out with her threats), was a lot more ignorant and rough with her friends. I can tell she's hurting. But I've never figured out the reason why.
I shake my head with yet another sigh, strolling out of my room like I have all the time in the world. I look over my living room from the balcony, arms propped up on the balustrade that lines the edge of the upper floor.
The place is already filled with people, a light bar throbbing with colorful lights that distort the true colors of everything. But even so, it feels so dull, so pale, weak in comparison to the colors that swirl in my dreams.
I shake my head roughly, hoping to clear the fog of sleep from my brain, rubbing my eyes until they are almost numb.
Ah. And there she is. Jade West. In a denim jacket in the flood of people, her hair darker than a nightmare, skin the color of porcelain. She's dressed in a simple black dress, hiked up halfway to her knees, her milky legs long and graceful as she pushes her way through the crowd.
And those eyes. Still as vibrant and clear as ever, only marred with the hurricane of storm clouds that swirls inside them.
And as if she has a sixth sense— or maybe she can just feel the heat of my stare— she turns in the multitude, her gaze meeting mine.
I beckon to her, but she turns away so she is invisible among the crowd of partygoers. I don't know if she saw me in the first place.
"Chica, whatcha doin' up here?" I turn to see my friend, Andre, ambling up the stairs.
"I need to talk to you," I hiss, dragging him into my room.
"What?" he yelps as I yank him, shutting the door behind him.
"Andre," I take a deep breath, hoping my eyes are as desperate as I feel, "Tell me about Jade."
"Wha?"
"Like, how was she before I got here, like, freshman year, before?"
"You're trippin' me here," he clasps his hands together with a frown, "But okay."
"Thank you!" I blurt, and he cocks an eyebrow, clearly amused by the hint of a smirk that tugs at his lips.
"I mean, she was less violent I guess. Didn't threaten to hurt everyone so much. She was... more depressed, you could say, but now, she just does a better job of hiding everything from us. Looked completely different though. Brown straight hair, wore lots of eyeshadow. Erm... "
"Andre," I gulp whatever lump is constricting my throat.
"Yeah?"
"What's her full name?"
I can feel my heart pulsing in my throat, threatening to leap out of my chest and splatter onto my wooden floor.
He sighs, "Never told her I told you this, 'cause she'll kill me, but..."
"Andre," I swallow audibly, my voice terse, "Is it Jadelyn, as in J-A-D-E-L-Y-N?"
He dips his head, narrowing his eyes as he studies me.
"Can you please get her?" I breathe, aware my hands are shaking.
"Uh... sure."
When he walks out, I stumble mindlessly into my bathroom, splashing cold water on my face.
God, what am I getting myself into?
I turn off the water, slumping down so I'm sitting on the edge of my bathtub, my heart thumping so fast, I couldn't be surprised if I had a sudden cardiac arrest.
I inhale shakily, holding it for a few seconds, before releasing it, but even trying, I can't stop the wave of panic that's already beginning to set in.
She probably doesn't remember you. She hates you. You're barely friends.
I sit up, trying to let oxygen reach every corner of my lungs as my chest is struck with a stabbing pain, but all my attempts are in vain; it feels like I've just run for thirty minutes straight, but it's worse because I'm seized with this unreasonable fear that Jade will not return this unrequited crush.
At this point, I'm white-knuckling the tub I'm sitting on, my fingers trembling as my palms slip on the cold porcelain.
I slide to the floor, my fists clenched so tight they're shaking. Andre hasn't come back yet, and I tuck my knees into my chest, rocking back and forth in yet another vain attempt to calm down.
"Tori?"
I look up, shivering at the cold tile against my back, "W-what do y-you want?" I stutter uncertainly, feeling my heart stop at the girl that stands in front of me.
"You," she walks in and offers a hand, which I promptly grab. The déjà vu is almost enough to bring me to my knees, only this time, our roles are reversed.
"Tori, what's going on?" she brushes a strand of loose hair out of my eyes as she sits me down on my bed.
I shrug my shoulders, eyes shut at an overwhelming wave that's straining against my body, "You tell me, Jadelyn," I choke out, every breath ragged as an obstruction had lodged itself in my bronchi.
She doesn't look at me, but I can see something flash in her eyes. "Calm down," she whispers, in a tone I've never heard from her, nodding gratefully at Andre, who closes the door and walks away. "You're having a panic attack."
"Don't remind me," I purse my lips, inhaling abruptly at a stabbing pain that radiates through my chest. "I'm gonna throw up."
Jade stands hesitantly, "You're..."
I shake my head, mustering a soft chuckle at her cluelessness, "Ah, nevermind."
She sits beside me, and I hear her take a deep breath, "Look, I'm not good with feelings, yours or mine."
My next words are no more than a mere breath, "Me neither."
"You okay?" She turns to me, and I look up from where I've buried my head in my hands.
"Could be better," I answer indifferently, "But can you... please talk to me?" I blurt, hoping she still has some recollection of that night.
Nothing on her face changes, and I grit my teeth, pushing it away as the fact she's just an excellent actor.
"Okay," she swallows, "B-but I don't know what to say."
I shrug, "Just say anything."
I inhale for three seconds, hold my breath for three seconds, and exhale for three seconds.
She glances at me, and I'm startled by the light in her teal eyes despite the fact the lights have been turned off, "Does singing count?"
Inhale for four, hold for four, release for four.
I bite my lower lip, completely aware that her bottom lip is, too, held captive between her teeth. So I nod mutely, and she just gives me one of her rare smiles.
Breathe in for five, sustain for five, breathe out for five.
How do I make the phone ring?
Why do I even care?
How are you all around me when you're not really there?
It's a song I recognize as "Touch It" by Ariana Grande, and I allow my body to be swayed, her breathy alto executing the song perfectly despite the fact it strained on her higher registers. It's agile and charismatic, and I can only feel myself falling deeper into those eyes I'm already drowning in.
"Jade?"
In six, hold six, out six.
"Mhm?"
"Can I ask you a question? Please don't kill me."
She snorts, "Of course."
I exhale shakily, "D-do you... have feelings for me?" I open my eyes to find her staring back, her irises still as startling as I remembered them to be.
"Look, Tori. I-I don't know what you mean by that."
"Jadelyn," I swallow, hoping in some way, she'll remember everything that's spinning in my mind faster than the hurricane that's beginning to die down in her eyes.
She only averts her gaze, glancing around the room like she's trying to look at anything else but me.
"The kiss? I-I know I felt something, a-and I need to know if you did too," I swallow the desperation that's beginning to edge my voice.
"Tor," she breaks off, her gaze flashing to my face, "that was a stage kiss."
"B-but," I trail off, "I've seen the way you look at me. I-I've-," my next sigh is resigned as I throw her my last resort, "You don't remember?"
She turns away, and for a second, I'm afraid she's going to leave. But she only paces a small circle, before turning back to me.
"Tori, is your full name Victoria?"
"Yeah, why?" It comes out as a barely audible whisper, and when she doesn't respond, I go on, "Look, I'm sorry I didn't say anything because no one knows that except my family and, like, the school, and I told... you back in freshman year, so I didn't dare tell anyone," my voice breaks, and I draw in a ragged breath before continuing, "because, after you or Lyn or whoever left that night, I spent years trying to fill that space that you left because I didn't know it, but I think I fell in lo-"
I stop.
Not because I want to, but because she shuts me up. In the way, I expect the least.
In the midst of my rambling, I don't notice that her expression has changed to one of realization when she is struck by the epiphany. I don't notice that she has scooted closer to me, I don't notice her initial hesitation, I don't notice the fact when her eyes wander to my rapidly moving lips.
I don't notice she's kissing me until the words halt at my lips, and she's pulled away, leaving nothing but the memory of her mouth tingling on mine, the taste of coffee and the scent of vanilla, something I've memorized as Jadelyn West since the beginning.
I glance at Jadelyn, who is now looking at me as if I'm the only thing left in the world.
"I missed you," she confesses.
"I thought you told me not to," my lips form the words against my will because they're too busy sending shots of euphoria into my bloodstream.
"Well, you should've long ago figured I'm quite the hypocrite when it comes to saying things that actually mean something," she tips her head, her eyes warmer than I've ever seen them, "I typically don't mean anything I say, especially if it's 'I'm sorry." She purses her lips, "But I just wanted to say sorry."
"For what?"
"For I dunno, being so mean to you, and even though I had a faint inkling it was you all along. In my defense, this room and house was dark the first time I was here, so I couldn't really tell, but even then when I came here, I had this weird sense of familiarity, like I'd been here before.
"And when I saw you again, it felt like I'd known you my whole life, although I had no idea who you were. I just didn't want to confirm it, or admit it to myself, because it would mean you saw me."
"Huh?" I frown slightly.
"Like, you saw me having a breakdown and crying, and weak-"
"Jade," I interrupt, "Having a breakdown or mental health issues doesn't mean you're weak. It just... it's human. It's okay."
Her mouth twisted into a wry smile, "Wow, thanks."
My mouth reflects her smile and I chuckle.
"Just... sorry," it comes out small, and I know it's hard for her to say.
"You mean it?"
"Yes," she answers solemnly, and when I look at her, despite the hardness of her eyes, there's something in there gauging my reaction, desperately seeking my approval.
"Then... apology accepted."
I beam at her, and she just chuckles.
"Can we... you know," she chews at her lip, for once looking unsure of herself.
"Can we what?"
"Start over," she blurts, "Can we start over? Pretend like none of anything ever happened? Like, pretend that me being mean to you never happened, 'cause dammit, the only reason I ever was mean to you was not 'cause I hated you, but because I hated the way I was... more human around you. You make me... feel things," she rambles on, her hands moving wildly in gesticulations I find amusing yet comforting because even if she didn't realize she was doing it, they were wild and big, and something she never held back from.
"You make me feel like I've known you my whole life, although it's only been years. And I feel like I smile more around you, and God, I've always hated being happy, because it was never enough, you know?
"Happiness only ever lasts for that short little fleeting moment, and then after that, it's gone, and then you want what you don't have, and it just leads to pain... and not the good kind. And that's why Beck says I hate being happy, but I really don't because what I actually hate is the consequence that comes from it, and the fact that once it's over, it leaves you hanging."
I let her talk, feeling the corner of my mouth quirk up as her hands wave around passionately.
"But you, Vic, Victoria, Tori, Vega, whatever I'm supposed to call you, you make me happy to be happy. Like, I know it doesn't make sense, but when I'm around you I can't but feel happy because even if I can't have you, your smile is so goddammed contagious-"
"But you can have me," I murmur, and she stops, looking at me with an almost dazed expression.
A soft giggle leaves her mouth at that, and I smile in response.
"You make me happy to be alive, you make me want to be alive, Vic- Tori."
I grimace, "Yeah, don't call me Victoria. Hate that."
"Noted."
"So what about starting over?" I prompt, and she nods.
"I'm happy with you, Tori. Even when I thought I couldn't have you, because you're this perfect little person, and I've always been mean to you, and I've always just almost killed you, by sending you those bush daisies when I found out you were allergic to them, by pushing you off that second story balcony because you were too afraid to jump, by misplacing your blood by taki-"
"Woah, woah, woah. You were the one who stole my blood?"
"Yeah, but that's not the poi-"
"I could've died!" I shriek, "And Robbie's life was at risk!"
She just watches me, her expression equal parts apologetic and fond, "I'm sorry for all of that, Tori. So putting all things behind us, all those arguments and bickering— well, we wouldn't be Jade and Tori if we didn't argue— but I want to forget all the times I was terrible to you, because I feel so guilty about everything."
"What about that," I muse, "Jade West has feelings."
"Oh my God, you're such an idiot," she groans, burying her face in her hands, and that's when I realize she's blushing. Really blushing, her cheeks flushed red to the tip of her ears, her tongue flicking out to wet her lip, which she bites shortly after like she does when she's flustered.
"I'm your idiot," I grunt, and I can't help a little giggle at the smile she gives me.
"So what do you say?" She just looks at me, greenish eyes wide and more innocent than I've ever seen them, everything in them genuine.
I grin, holding out my right hand, palm perpendicular to the floor, "I'm Victoria Dawn Vega. But you can call me Tori."
"Wow, your middle name is Dawn?"
"That's irrelevant!" I bounce, hand still held midair.
"It's cringy and overused."
"Well, there's the Jade West I fell in love with," I say teasingly.
"Wait, you're in love with me?"
My face pales for a second, then flushes bright red, "I-I didn't- I didn't mean to say that!"
"Oh, chill, Vega."
"W-what?" I stammer, mortified.
"Hey, I'm in love with you too."
"W-what?" I repeat, still stuttering.
"You heard me."
My heart is pounding at her statement, and suddenly I remember her mouth on mine, the taste of her lips, the almost physical force that made me want to get closer to her, and I really want to kiss her.
So I do, my hand still held up in the air like an idiot while my lips touch hers, fire rushing throughout my body at the little contact.
"You're such a dork," she groans, but she's smiling.
"I'm your-"
"Don't say it," she warns.
"Why?"
"It's so freaking cringy-"
"No, it's not!"
"-and it makes you too adorable to stand."
My lips fly together at that, and I blush crazily once again, wondering if it's healthy to be blushing so many times within a few minutes.
We just look at each other, identical grins plastered on our faces for a moment, before I realize my arm is aching.
"My arm is tired," I complain, "C'mon."
"And you expect me to go full cringe and re-introduce myself while shaking your hand?"
"Well, yeah!"
"But that's literally straight out of some stupid romance novel! It doesn't happen in real life."
"Then make it real, Jade."
"But it's so-"
"Don't say cringy. I know you're just as much of a hopeless romantic as I am."
"Ugh, fine."
She grabs my hand, her thumb slipping in between my thumb and her forefinger, jerking my hand twice.
I'm about to ask her to reintroduce herself, but she yanks me by the arm so I'm crushed against her, and she kisses me, hard.
I let out an embarrassing moan as her hand flies up to cup my cheek, a flicker of tongue brushing my lips.
When she pulls away, we're both breathless and panting, foreheads pressed together, fire against ice, black against white, silver against gold.
The moon is with the sun, but then, eclipses do happen once in a while.
She looks into my eyes, lips curving into an easy smile, her chest still heaving as her pale eyes sparkle.
"I'm Jadelyn August West. Nice to meet you."
I don't even have time to make fun of her middle name before she pulls me back in for another kiss.
Not that I'm complaining.