*Warning*
This chapter contains depression and self harm. Read at your own discretion. I don't condone hurting yourself in any way, but it is more prevalent than people think and hopefully we can all help raise awareness to get people the help they need!

Meredith's knees didn't shake this time when she stepped into the large brick and mortar building. Now, walking into the club, she felt an uncharacteristic flair of bravado that didn't reflect her usual character. The accompanying emotions she did recognize, however, were excruciatingly familiar. Self-loathing, embarrassment, and a sense of smallness permeated her soul. It was malicious, too dark for her liking, and frightened her a little. Ashamed as she was to admit it, there were moments the last week that she felt it necessary to completely shut down and give in to the suicidal thoughts that plagued her mind.

Fresh cuts were crushing with scabs on the insides of her thighs, every damaged skin cell an echo of the wrenching pain in her heart. Every drag of the glass down her skin as it split the milky white canvas and spilled the salty, iron liquid down her legs quieted the raging maliciousness of her angst. She'd watched in awe, the ugliness of it all like a grotesque, live action painting as the dark red rolled like acrylic down her legs. It blossomed and stained her socks in a sickly satisfying manner, ruining them. But it made her feel... nothing. The physical discomfort cancelled out the pain of her wounded heart.

Jet had broken her.

She hadn't cut in years. Once she broke through her barriers and found solace in that beautiful, day breaking smile, the thrill of knowing she would banter with him every morning gave her a reason to live.

Meredith never noticed how much their relationship meant, and how little time she'd spent on nurturing it. She recognized the issue was within her at her very being and core. The foundation of their relationship had been missing an important part: acceptance. Not with Jet as he was, but rather with herself as she was with him.

She'd been free, freer than she'd ever been in her whole life. The black cup of coffee that waited when her shift began, as if someone had just placed it there, awaiting the moment she would breathe in the scintillating aroma of caffeine; it now caused her tears. The way Jet smiled at her lame jokes, the ones that only they knew and were privy to; she could no longer speak to him except in solemn tones. The laughter had shriveled and faded from their office, and she trudged through the motions just to get by and make it to quitting time.

The look in his eyes when he kissed her and his confession outside of the restaurant had her reeling in the most bitter and degrading thoughts. Feelings she thought were one thing suddenly felt like another, until she didn't know up from down. The constant whirlpool of anxiety that she lived with daily exploded into an ugly, abstract muddle that she didn't know how to deal with.

Meredith hated herself for the first time since she agreed to work for him. She loathed herself for not realizing sooner how he had become a bulkhead, a constant, the most important part of her life. Knowing that everything might have been different, that perhaps they could have been romantically involved if she had acknowledged their friendship sooner, burned like acid in her soul. The deep, bitter finality of it seeped into every fiber of her being, so she cut and cut some more. It was the only thing that made sense to her: everything else blurred into inconsistent nothingness. She needed to feel to keep herself from feeling.

Meredith walked calmly to the bar area, lips quirking when she noticed that Ryan was serving tonight. Something snapped inside of her, and she instantly welcomed the sensation: tonight, she was a new woman. The old one was dead, and the new Meredith needed to fill the dark void that threatened to engulf her.

"Ryan." She purred, voice oozing like bile out of her mouth as she eyed his silvering hair. "How are you?" She perched her bottom purposefully on a stool, wiggling her hips.

Ryan startled, nearly dropping the glass in his hand. "Meredith!" He exclaimed, warily eyeing her back. "What brings you back?"

Meredith grinned sardonically and leaned forward on her stool, shifting to display the soft skin above her breasts. "Just relaxing after work." Her teeth pulled her bottom lip in suggestively.

Ryan blinked and whipped his head around. "Is Jet with you?"

"Don't mention him to me." The frigidity of her tone caused him to pause, eyes narrowed observingly.

"Have you been drinking?" He uttered lowly, in case there were passerby. The club was busy tonight, and the chance of being overheard greater.

"Not yet." Meredith cooed, wiggling her torso over the counter. "Would you like to drink with me?"

Ryan gulped, cheeks tinging slightly. "As beautiful as you are, I must decline." The finality in his voice pricked her feelings, but she shrugged it off.

"Then I'll find someone who will." Meredith stated simply, winking at a man nearby.

"Meredith, this isn't like you at all." Ryan warned, reaching out to touch her hand. "You should be careful."

"I've been careful my whole life, Ryan." She growled, yanking her hand away from his grasp. "I need to live a little."

"Please go home, Meredith." Ryan pleaded, wiping a glass down.

"No." She said firmly, motioning to an amber liquor. "I'll have a double."

Ryan dropped the glass this time. "Of whiskey?" He choked, eyes darting around the room. Meredith knew he was looking for Jet.

"Yes." Her resolve was unwavering. "Don't you dare bring him over, if he's here. I want nothing to do with that man."

Never before had such a wisp of a woman sounded so murderous; the daggers shooting from her eyes nearly pierced him with their intensity. They eyed each other, sizing one another up, like a starting contest. Ryan blinked and set down his cloth.

"Here." Ryan quickly poured a glass and watched as Meredith ripped it from his hand, downing it in one gulp. He eyed her surreptitiously.

"Another. Keep them coming." She demanded, anger clouding her delicate features. Ryan complied, inwardly groaning as he handed her one after the other.

The second one burned less than the first. Meredith was surprised to find she actually enjoyed the flavor of it. The harshness of the liquid on her throat stung pleasantly, the slight oaky finish and sweetness combined, leaving a wonderful flavor on her tongue.

Her feelings were melting away.

The third one went down like silk, as did the fourth.

Unfortunately, her hearing was still sharp as ever when a low, rumbling voice spoke her name. "Meredith."

Her chest was on fire with the heat of the liquor. "Go away, Jet." She barked waspishly.

"What are you doing, Mer?" Sadness clouded his stormy eyes. "This isn't you."

Meredith glared, meeting his gaze challengingly. "And you would know, huh?" Fresh anger boiled within her. "I'm going to be however I want, and you have no right anymore to judge me for it."

Jet's eyes drooped dejectedly, shoulders slumping. "Mer."

"Don't." She growled, glaring hatefully in response. "You lost the right to call me that." Turning back to her drink, she twisted her body so that he was no longer in her line of sight. "Waste your breath on someone else."

"If that's what you truly want, Meredith." The stool next to her creaked as his weight was lifted from it, and every footstep he took in the opposite direction caused hot tears to drip from her eyes. Meredith raised a hand to signal Ryan for another shot.

The room blurred, faces and shapes colliding in a spinning whirl of colors she didn't think she'd seen before. Everything looked so beautiful blended together. All the men looked sinfully delicious as she winked and batted her lashes, enticing them to join her. Several started meaningless conversations, flocking like starving wolves around a carcass. Her inebriated mind toyed with the idea of becoming intimate with several, but she had a specific one in mind to rendezvous with. Her eyes flickered around, not spotting her intended target, so she continued sipping her drinks.

Soon she was wobbling dangerously on her seat, eyes barely open. "N'nother, signore." She hiccupped.

Ryan gazed at her with sadness. "No, Meredith. You're done for tonight." He urged gently, reaching for the phone. "I'll call a cab for you."

"No need for that." A drawling quirk came from behind Meredith, a shock of blonde hair coming into view. "I'll drive the lass."

"Corrigan!" Meredith cheered, totally incapacitated, body and mind disjointed from each other.

"Hello, beautiful." He grinned suggestively, eyes darting to her plump lips. Her heart pounded with a yearning she didn't understand.

"Would you like to drink with me?" She slurred, bumping into him as she attempted to stand.

"No." He chuckled. "You need to get sleep. But I will agree to accompany you home." His green eyes probed hers intensely.

"Okayyy." She sang, suddenly feeling like a rock star. Her legs felt like jelly and she couldn't even feel her arms anymore. She couldn't feel...anything, and she liked it, the absence of feeling.

"Okay." Corrigan's accent fell over her in a wave of succulence. She was suddenly wanting something new, something forbidden. He steered her away from the bar, ignoring Ryan's protests. As they exited, the fresh air hit her like train and she momentarily became fearful of her own behavior. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jet emerging from the club, and the anger that surged up overcame her sensibility.

"Okay." She whispered seductively, leaning her face closer to Corrigan's. His eyes narrowed and he smirked, which she found inexplicably sexy. "What should we do now?" A voice she did not recognize as her own prompted, earning her a rough embrace from him. Her body was now pressed against his, the muscles easily felt beneath her thin dress. Their groins were flush, and she blushed, feeling him arouse as he held her.

"Anything you want, lass." Corrigan groaned gravely, running his hands down her hips. She trembled from the new sensation.

Jet spoke up from behind her. "Meredith, don't-" He rushed over, arm outstretched and eyes wide, but it was too late.

That last word was her undoing. Meredith raised up on tiptoes, grabbed a handful of Corrigan's corn silk hair and pressed her mouth feverishly to his.

*What do you guys think about Meredith's decision? Is it justified?*
**vote if you like and please leave comments**