She had never felt such sadness. A thick aura of deep sorrow surrounded her, following her everywhere she went. Her mind drifted further and further into a deep abyss that lay nothing but gloominess and melancholy. Her whole world seemed to be crashing down on her, laying upon her shoulder so heavily, it was almost like she was carrying a boulder.

Stacey had felt this before. She had felt it so many times. When her mother left to Whitwick after the divorce. After leaving her father, who hardly said a proper goodbye to her. Now with Jesse, who turned out to be a drug addict. She felt betrayed. That familiar and agonizing feeling of betrayal burned violently through her insides.

And if that wasn't enough, to add onto her misery, she had witnessed Frank striking Anne across the face after Anne confronted him about his scandal with another woman that night.

"Just tell me the truth!" she shrieked.

"Damn it, woman, get off my back!" Frank yelled, making the walls around them tremble.

Stacey was outside the kitchen and in front of the door, peeking through the crack, watching and listening to everything that was happening.

"Frank McClain, I am your wife!" Anne screamed. "You ought to show me some respect! I left that horrible man that was once raising Stacey, and I was happy when I met you here! Don't make me regret my decisions!"

SMACK!

It happened so fast, but it seemed like it was in slow motion at the same time. Frank raised his hand and slapped Anne, whom Stacey thought to be was the love of his life, right across the face. The hit was so hard, her head snapped to the side. The impact of it nearly made her stumble and lose her balance. Her cheek had begun to glow a soft, light red where Frank has slapped her.

Stacey covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her gasp. Her heart began to race rapidly, and she felt lightheaded. Frank - the man whom Anne fell in love with, and the man whom Stacey looked up to more so than her own father - had physically hurt his wife.

Anne slowly looked at him, her eyes brimming in pain and tears. His face held no emotions, held no sign that he regretted what he did.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow," he said, his voice monotonous.

Anne didn't respond. Stacey, realizing they were leaving the kitchen, jumped back from the door and quickly yet quietly dashed up the stairs to her bedroom. After slowly and heedfully closing the door behind her, her legs began to tremble beneath her. She collapsed on the bed and stared at the periwinkle ceiling above her with wide eyes.

Did that... really just happen?

***

The next day at the café, Anne was almost completely silent, almost like the way Jesse was before. She only nodded or shook her head in answer to questions from Donna, Elly, and Kate. The waitresses were concerned for her and questioned Stacey, but Stacey waved it off, saying that Anne was only in a bad mood.

However, while Kate, Donna, and Elly were busying themselves with wiping the counter clean and brewing coffee, Stacey leaned forward to Anne and whispered, "Are you really ok?"

Anne peered up and weakly smiled. "I'm fine, hon. I don't think I'm the first priority here, though."

"What d'you mean?"

"Did you talk with that boy?"

Stacey felt her heart tighten in her chest at the mention of Jesse. Swallowing down the thick lump in her throat, she said, "Yeah... You were right. He isn't good news."

Anne rubbed her shoulder. "I know. I'm glad you realize that now. Why don't you try giving Steve a chance?"

Stacey stuck out her bottom lip in thought. "Maybe I will..." She felt her eyes burn with fresh hot tears. Her chin quivered aggressively, a threat saying she would cry at any given moment. "Oh God..."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Anne asked softly.

"No," Stacey croaked, swiftly standing up from her seat. "No, I... I need a moment."

She didn't bother waiting for a reply. She turned away from the waitresses and stalked out of the café. By then, she was blinded by her tears. The world around her was now a blur, her vision clouded with the moistness forming around her eyes. She didn't know where she was going; she merely allowed her feet to take her anywhere they desired to go.

She could feel the cool, wet grass pressing down beneath her. She could feel the wind whistling past her and whispering inaudible words in her ear. She could hear the seagulls above her chirping their small, melodic tweets. She could hear the familiar sound of ocean waves crashing... crashing... crashing onto the sand of the beach. She could almost taste the freedom before her... the peace.

She rubbed her watery eyes with her fingertips, although she didn't need to see to figure out where she was. She dragged herself towards the edge of the cliff she and Jesse once stood by when her vision was clean of her tears.

Oh, it was only two days ago when she was helping Jesse get over his fear of heights. Just two days ago, she had managed to make him laugh with pure joy. The two had laughed for long minutes. And God... Stacey loved it. She loved the sound of his laugh. She loved he way he said her name, the way it gently and beautifully rolled off his tongue. His silence alone was even intriguing to her.

Why did he have to do such terrible things? Why did he have to fill his body with such poison?

"Stacey?" an all-too familiar voice spoke behind her.

It barely startled her. She turned to find Jesse himself standing just ten feet behind her, nervously playing with his hands. She blankly stared.

"What're you doing here?" she demanded.

"I-I was looking for you," he said anxiously. "You weren't at the café. So I assumed you were here."

"How'd you figure that out?"

"Just a hunch, I guess."

Stacey laughed bitterly. "A hunch... Jesse, I told you not to talk to me anymore," she said coldly.

"Yeah... But you're still talking to me right now, aren't you?" he said almost sheepishly.

She opened her mouth to retaliate, but then hesitated. Ok... He has a point.

"You're horrible," she stated.

"I know," he nodded solemnly.

"Then why are you here?" she cried. "Can't you just leave me in peace? I'm trying to forget about you, but you being here isn't making it any easier!"

"Stace, please, just hear me out," he begged. "If you just let me-"

"Jesse," she interrupted. "Jesse, do you have any idea why I decided to move in with my mom instead of staying with my dad?" When Jesse slowly shook his head, she continued, "My dad became a major alcoholic after they split up. He kept hurting himself, and I tried everything to get him to stop. But he... he just wouldn't stop, damn it!" She breathed heavily as another round of tears sparkled in her eyes. "I couldn't do it anymore, because not only was he hurting himself, but he was hurting me too. I had to leave someone I cared about... He didn't even care that I left..." A tear escaped and dribbled down her cheek quickly. "Jesse, I can't watch you hurt yourself by... by poisoning yourself the way you are! I can't!"

"Hold on a second," Jesse held up a hand to silence her. "Stacey... I get it. I do. But... can you please listen to me? Just hear me out on this?"

"Jesse, I can't deal with-"

"Stace, I'm asking for five minutes here," he said hastily. "Just five minutes. And if you can't forgive me... then I promise I won't bother you anymore."

Stacey glared at him long and hard, her hazel irises sharp like a razor. Silence intruded as it filled the air between them, making the atmosphere more tense. Even the seagulls seemed to have gone quiet.

She sighed heavily through her nose. "Five minutes, Jesse," she said firmly. "But that's it."

"Thank you," he said gratefully. He took in a long intake of breath, then proceeded to explain. "Ok, yes, I did do drugs. But not anymore, Stace."

Stacey scoffed. "Yeah, that changes everything," she said sarcastically.

"Hang on," he said. "Let me finish." He glanced around himself, unable to look her in the eyes. "A few weeks after... after my dad... died..." He winced, yet forced himself to keep going. "I didn't know what to do. I couldn't smile or laugh... I couldn't be happy."

Her eyes softened. "Jesse..."

"This guy on the street... I never found out his name... He offered me a dose of ecstasy. I-I thought I'd feel better if I took it..."

"Jesse, you don't have to say-"

"Yes I do. You deserve to know." Jesse swallowed hard. He glanced back at Stacey. "I'd used ecstasy for a few weeks... But it never helped. I thought I'd be... happy again if I kept doing it."

"Jesse, that stuff only makes you feel worse," Stacey said softly.

"I know," he sighed. "I figured that out. It wasn't hard to stop... But at the same time, I wished I felt what I felt while using that." He blinked rapidly, and she was shocked to find that his eyes had watered, filling up with involuntary tears. "When you... showed me how to smile again... just two days ago..." He shakily smiled at her. "It felt so much better than... well..."

Five minutes had already passed, but Stacey paid no mind to it. She wanted to hear more, craved to listen to more of his story.

"I know what I did was wrong," Jesse went on after quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "I know... And I swear on my life, I will never touch anything like that ever again."

She breathed out a silent chuckle, yet it was warmer and softer. "My dad told me the same thing... He still drunk himself stupid." She licked her dry lips and grinned slightly. "But I believe you for some reason..."

"Really?" Jesse said, his eyes pooling with every bit of hope he had left in him.

"Yeah... I kind of missed you, anyway," she giggled.

She had never seen him look so relieved. His sad, cold blue eyes suddenly warmed up and morphed into a bright, happy sparkle. She laughed; he looked like a child receiving a gift on a cold Christmas morning. He just looked happy.

Jesse approached the younger girl before him, and to her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held on tightly, like his life depended on it. She stood there, unmoving, completely still, shell-shocked. Then, she relaxed under his touch and returned the warm embrace.

He buried his face into her shoulder. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice muffled.

The icy hurt he had left in her chest the day before suddenly vanished and was replaced with the cheerfulness they had shared with each other just two days ago.

He truly was an interesting character.