"Say something!" she prompted loudly, making Jack flinch backwards.

"I... I have nothing to say. You know everything, Sarah... I ran away because it was too much for me. I was a coward, I know. I admitted that to you. What else do you want? I bared my soul; my inner weakness that the fans and flashing lights wouldn't see. I let you in." The frustration in his voice was unmistakable.

"Not completely." She pulled her head back, planted her feet, and folded her arms across her chest. "The pressure alone didn't make you leave, Jack. The writing also did. I want you to tell me why."

Jack’s mouth fell open in surprise before he could help it. She had seen it already. She knew that her question had fazed him. He couldn't pretend like it hadn't.

"What do you mean?" he asked to buy himself time.

"The other day..." She said slowly. "The day Andrew and Mira arrived... You said you didn't consider yourself a bestseller. You said it with deep introspection." Jack’s heart began to thunder against his chest. "Why did you say so?"

"Because a writer always has to top his best work." He didn't have to think about the convenient reply. "You said it yourself!"

"I said it to cover your silence. You couldn't say what was on your mind to say. What is it about your writing, Jack?

Why do you feel the need to dismiss praise for your hard work? What are you hoping to top it with? More disparagement of your hard work?"

"It wasn't my hard work!" The frustrated words were out of Jack’s mouth before he could take them back. They stood between Sarah and him, solid and strong. They would not be diffused or chased into the ground. They would take their rightful place and stand as a witness. He had to face them in the eye, unable to lie by omission anymore.

The silence of the seconds ticking by rang loudly in his ears. He waited for Sarah to break the silence so he could be free. He was already trapped, and prolonging whatever was to come was just more torture. It was unnecessary.

Finally, she held his hand. "Talk to me about everything, Jack." Her eyes were sincere and concerned. "Please."

Jack looked at the compassion in those eyes. If he looked at it from an angle and let his mind fantasize beyond actual sight, it could even look like love. This was his chance to show her that she could be with an open person like him. He may not have been able to match her good heart, but he could be vulnerable enough to love. He could show her that he was malleable, that he would let her have an effect on him. He could give them a chance by just opening his mouth and explaining things. He could. He could!

Feeling like he was in a distant dream, Jack watched as his hand slowly slipped away from hers. He spoke, watching her expression fall. "I don't have much to say, Sarah," he stated before taking a step back. "I'm going to get us some drinks now."

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Fool! Idiot! Moron! Jack's inner voice screamed at him as he pushed his way through the crowd. He was truly lost and had given up on trying to be found. Instead of reaching out and asking for help, he resigned himself to drowning. He had forgotten that even a glimmer of hope in death was better than a prolonged solitary death filled with regrets. He had forgotten that there was still a chance at life.

Fool!

He was a fool and a coward. Instead of waiting to see the outcome, he fled in fear. The truth held a power over him that he couldn't handle. And above all else, he was terrified of being abandoned.

He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. If he let his fear take over, she would slip away and he would be alone forever in the mess he had created for himself. She was such a beautiful woman with a heart of gold. He hesitated, knowing that turning around meant facing the reality of what he could lose. But his thoughts were too strong to resist, and he couldn't help but turn back towards her, desperate to savor every moment with her.

What Jack saw was yet another attempting to seduce her. Some guy was aggressively trying to make her dance with him, despite her obvious discomfort and attempts to push him away. Jack would have come to her rescue regardless, but when he saw the red glow in the man's eyes he knew he was dealing with something other than a man. Jack's blood boiled as he rushed towards them.

The man was now touching her hair and laughing in her face while she struggled to free herself. He forcefully turned her around so her back was against his chest, causing her to gasp out loud. The man continued to hold onto her tightly and buried his face into her hair, while she fought against him with all her might.

"Let go!" Jack heard her yell as he maneuvered through the crowd. "Leave me alone!"

The man ignored her pleas.

Jack’s rage surged as Sarah’s eyes found him. In one swift leap, he lunged forward, shoving the man back with all the force of his fury. The anger pulsed through him, hot and relentless, his blood roaring in his veins. Jack felt something shift inside—something primal. Without hesitation, he threw himself onto the man, pinning him to the ground as the coward tried to wriggle away. The man’s terrified face stared up at him, wide-eyed and desperate.

Jack raised his fist, ready to strike, his body trembling with the need to unleash all of it. The gasps of those around him barely registered. His arm was already in motion when a single word cut through the noise.

"No!"

Sarah’s voice.

It froze Jack’s hand midair, trembling above the man’s head. "Jack, no!" she cried again, louder this time.

"He was supposed to be dead!" Jack snarled, his voice a low growl, everything in him screaming to smash the man’s face into oblivion.

"No!" Sarah’s hand grabbed his arm, tugging desperately. "Don’t! Please, Jack... please," she pleaded, her voice thick with tears.

Jack’s gaze shifted down to the man beneath him, his rage clashing with the fear in the man’s small, unsteady eyes—eyes that thrived on weakness, on preying like a thief in the night. The man was shaking, pathetic in his cowardice, small in both stature and spirit. He was the kind who took only what he thought he could get away with, running from anything bigger than himself. A coward.

Like me...Jack thought.

Jack got off him with disgust and turned away, almost blinded. He couldn't even see those around him to make out their faces. He could only feel their stares.

A hand grasped his and began to pull him away.

Jack knew the hand. It was a hand he would like to kiss every morning.