We may have left Joel, but he wouldn't leave us.

He wasn't there physically as we left the January chill and climbed the staircase towards our top floor apartment, but he was there in spirit as Eddie was doing his usual and trying to put a stupid idea into my head.

"I'm just staying that one day we need to try it! I mean, aren't you even a little bit curious? He'd be hilarious!" Cried Eddie.

"Seriously dude, going to a bar with Joel is probably down there at the bottom of the list of things I want to do. Somewhere between going fishing and donating semen. I mean, look at him! He's the creepy old guy at the bars and at the clubs!"

There is always a creepy old guy.

"That's a fair point," He conceded as we arrived at our door. We took a look around at the lobby and subconsciously agreed to clean it one day but we'd been doing that for months now. "He'd be like . . . chick repellent or something."

I unlocked the door and waltzed in, dumping my coat on the (now cleaned) couch. I was about to turn on the TV when suddenly, Christy appeared from Dean's room. This was a huge shock to us as we hadn't actually seen her here for about six months now.

"Hello there Christy," Eddie scowled yet remained cheerful at the same time.

"Shut up you moron," She spit back.

"Ah yes I sure have missed this. You, insulting me, in my own home. Glorious."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, hoping to steer the raging bull away from Eddie.

As if to act out an answer to my question, Dean now came out of his room and he did not look good. His usually neat dark brown hair was somewhat frazzled and his dark eyes looked like they had a whole box of teabags under them. As such, his normally glassy complexion looked tattered and worn.

"Christy please, come on," He said, completely ignoring us.

"No, Dean! I told you I'm done talking to you!" Unlike her boyfriend, Christy's tanned features were impeccable as always. We used to say that if Rihanna and Beyonce somehow had a child together, that would be Christy.

"Well why are you here then? Why did you come back?" He challenged.

"Well, I'm away for a shower!" Eddie informed me, beating me to the obvious escape route. I didn't think it was possible, but I was starting to miss being at work.

"I told you, I'm just here to get my stuff!"

"You have stuff here?" I asked, unintentionally. I mean, I was thinking it but I wasn't meant to say it. Thankfully, she was now ignoring me too.

"Look, if you just talk to me then we can work this out! I can't do anything if you won't talk about it!" Dean continued his pleas.

Rather than listen to this, I went into my room to hide. I could look out what I was going to wear tonight, check Facebook and maybe even order takeout if it was still a warzone outside.

As I closed the door on the argument, literally and figuratively, I thought back to a simpler time. A happier time. A time without Christy. It felt like decades ago.

It was strange to see Dean looking more like a homeless man than the cool, intelligent guy I was accustomed to.

While Eddie and I had dropped out of college, Dean had carried on, learning all kinds of cool computer-y type things. At work we just field calls about computers, while dean could probably build one from scratch. He was a genius, at least compared to me, but he hadn't always been as confident as when he met Christy.

Dean had a tough time growing up. Hell, we all did. All through school we were average looking, with average talents and less than average GPA's. We weren't all that different from all the supposed cool kids but they just didn't want to find that out for some reason. But as time went on and puberty hit, we all came good. Everything worked out ok; the guys who used to pick on us got fat and the girls that constantly rejected us turned hideously ugly, all the while we only improved in every way. It was amazing! The good guys won and the bad guys lost. The oldest story ever told.

While he was working part time in a grocery store, Dean's studies at college became super intense; but he was able to keep up with the workload and quickly became the top of his class. One semester it was announced that he had been chosen to represent the university in an exchange program in Japan, meaning he'd be living in Tokyo for a few months.

It was an incredible opportunity and one he took with open arms. But he was by himself and was constantly lonely there. And with the time difference, it was pretty hard for us to be there for him when he needed it. So one night, he decided he'd had enough. He was tired of staying in by himself and made the decision to live like me and Eddie. He was going to get wasted.

Apparently it's pretty hard to find a decent bar in Tokyo though, particularly when you barely read the language, let alone speak it. Eventually though, he found a place and was having a few quiet beers by himself.

At one point in the night, as the alcohol began to take effect, he made the decision to change drinks and started doing shots of this lethal whiskey stuff, and the rest is history.

He was so out of it that he became the life and soul of the party. Everyone in the bar loved him! He was dancing and singing and telling them his life story basically. He didn't understand them and they didn't understand him but everybody was having the time of their lives.

A group of guys took him under their wing for the rest of night and led him to a shady looking nightclub. In hindsight, it probably wasn't a great idea but Dean didn't care. That night he felt invincible. So invincible that he didn't even care when they all bailed and he found himself alone in a city he didn't know. It sounded nuts, but he started to walk home; but before he got very far, he met another local who he swears was an exact lookalike of Liam Neeson. But Japanese.

His new friend dragged him to another bar that was open for twenty-four hours and the two of them began doing tequila shots!

Drinking tequila with a Japanese Irishman! It was insane! So insane that when he finally got home and sobered up, he felt inspired to write it all down. He'd always been into writing and as he started to remember everything, he added a few other little things and turned it into a fully fledged novel.

Dean was so hard working that he was able to write three different drafts of the story, and still complete the exchange program with the highest marks. He was a machine. And if all that wasn't crazy enough, it got even more incredible.

He boarded the flight home and struck up a conversation with the old dude in the seat next to him. It turned out that this guy's wife was an editor at one of the biggest publishers in the states. He exchanged emails with the guy and before he knew it, he had a two book deal! You couldn't make this shit up. A little while later, Land of the Rising Fun was on the bestsellers list. Ok, the title sucked but still! It didn't stay there for too long but long enough to make him a whole load of cash. That's how we can afford to decorate our apartment with all the cool sports memorabilia we have (Go Seahawks!). And he even brought a huge sword back from Japan that we put on the wall above the TV. A fucking sword! How do you even get that through customs?

It was official; my quiet friend Dean was now a bad ass.

We went out to celebrate the book deal and that night he met Christy. He was super confident as he spent the whole night flirting with her. You can probably get the rest from there.

I was snapped out of memory lane by a loud yell from the Amazon known as Christy.

"I told you, Dean I've got nothing more to say to you!"

I heard a muffled response from Dean before the front door was slammed shut and I felt my walls shaking. The smart money said that Christy had left so I ventured out to the living room, hoping it was safe.

It seemed like Eddie's longest shower in the history of time was finished too as he looked to have the same idea as me. He was sat on the couch next to Dean wearing nothing but a towel. Not ideal, but better than last time.

"What was that all about?" I asked, approaching them.

As Dean kept his head in his hands, Eddie shook his head at me. His usual playful smile was replaced with a look of utter helplessness.

"She broke up with me."

"Shit," I whispered. I kinda figured that'd happened but it was still a tough thing to hear. I was literally watching my best friend break down into a million pieces right before my eyes. It sucked.

"Did she say why?" Asked Eddie.

"Apparently I'm just not what she wants right now. How can she say that?" Dean sobbed.

"Just stay positive man," I told him. Useless advice, I know, but I didn't know what else to say.

"Look, I don't want to hold you guys up. You guys should go out and have fun. It'll be better than sitting here with me all night," He said. He was right, but I wasn't sure I wanted to leave him alone. As you can tell, he's a pretty emotional guy and this had literally just happened.

"Alright, I'll go get ready!" Eddie said, clapping his hands together and getting up.

"Wait, hold on a second!" I said, chasing after him as he headed for his room. I blocked the doorway, just as he almost beat me to it. "Do you really think we should leave him here by himself?" I asked.

"Why wouldn't we? He obviously doesn't want to come too," Eddie shrugged before shoving me out of the way. He waltzed towards his dresser to get some clothes out and I followed him into his room. This place was actually the biggest bedroom in the apartment but you wouldn't know it with all the stuff he'd thrown on the floor.

"I know but I'm just afraid that he'll . . . do something stupid, you know?" I whispered the last part just in case Dean was listening in. I didn't want him to get any ideas.

"Would you relax?" He snorted. "The only way he's going to hurt himself is by jacking off too much. He'll be fine."

Perhaps I'd been right to whisper my last sentence to Eddie, because at that exact moment, we heard the beginning of I Miss You by Blink 182 blaring through our living room speakers. We shared a look of panic then.

"I'm not staying in again," Eddie warned. "Go convince him to come and I'll get dressed," He didn't even wait for me to leave his room before dropping his towel to the floor.

"Oh, dude!" I gasped, quickly covering my eyes.

"Are you . . . are you looking at my dick?" He asked accusingly.

"What? God no!"

"This is the biggest invasion of privacy since U2 put that shitty album on all of our phones!"

"I'm still bitter about that," I agreed, nodding my head in every direction but downwards.

I left Eddie and his junk alone and approached Dean who was giving off a rather painful rendition of the song that was still playing. Before I began, I turned off the music.

"What did you do that for?" He asked.

"It took you two years to get out of the emo phase. We can't go back there," I scolded before sitting down next to him and suggesting that he join me and Eddie in a night of hard drinking.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because if you stay here, you're just going to torture yourself over something that you can't change. If you come with us there'll be at least a change of scenery. And music that doesn't remind us of the terrible haircuts we used to have."

"I would just be a buzzkill. Honestly David, I'm really not in the mood for partying".

"Then we won't party!" I declared brightly. "We'll just sit at the bar, order shit loads of drinks and just talk about everything, except Christy".

"I don't know . . ." He murmured.

"It'll be like old times. We'll even go to all the old haunts. It's gonna be great!" Despite my enthusiasm, Dean didn't seem convinced. "Come on!" I urged once more.

Finally I saw a small smile creep across his face, which felt better to me than any drink ever could.

Now I was actually looking forward to our Christy-free night.

*

"I just miss seeing her so much!" A drunken Dean cried, slamming his beer bottle onto the bar and calling for the bartender to get us another round. Our ninth.

Although Dean was sitting on the bar stool in between us, I just knew that Eddie was rolling his eyes. I knew this because that was exactly what I had been doing for the last hour and a half.

"It's not even been one day," Eddie reminded him.

"And I miss her already!" Dean was wailing now and drawing some unwanted attention.

"Would you stop it? People are staring!" I hissed.

"Let them watch! I'm happy to at least mean something to someone!"

"This is your fault," Eddie sounded like one of my many disappointed teachers.

Our weekend plans of nonstop partying were in ruins and I honestly didn't think there was any way that this could get any worse.

Once again though, I'd be proven wrong in the most spectacular fashion . . .