Shane = Bold

Jaxon = Normal Text

"Why don't you take a seat? I'm sure you've had an exhausting day."

"Thanks for your concern Jaxon, really, but those words sound like something a serial killer would tell his victim before he impales his heart."

"What in hell is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me?"

"Don't sound so bloody offended. You've been insulting me since the moment you got in that car and I deserve to know why. I did not suffer through half an hour of your insults just to have your hotel door slammed in my face."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No. Shane. I am not."

"You seriously want to know why I'm mad at you? Isn't it obvious?"

"No. No, Shane, it isn't."

"Well screw you then Jaxon Taylor. Screw you."

"Open the door."

"No."

"That's downright childish."

"At least I didn't leave a teenage girl stranded in the rain."

"It's not that bad Caliente. It's not like she's seven or something. From the looks of her, she's basically an adult."

"How the hell does that make it any better?"

"She can find her own way home. I don't know her. She's not my problem."

"She damn well will be when she gets hypothermia from being left outside in this kind of weather."

"For Christ's sake Shane. Stop worrying about her for one second, will you?"

"Why should I? She's the only person who ever worries about me."

"That's a lie."

"Is it, Jaxon? Is it?"

"You know damn well that I care."

"You sure have a funny way of showing it."

"I'm not going to have this conversation with you. This isn't about me."

"Then who is it about, Mr Taylor?"

"Can you please open the door so we can speak like adults?"

"..."

"You know what? Fine. Fine. Let's do this like playground kids after a fight."

"Just go away Jaxon."

"So that you can call your pretty little girlfriend?"

"Yes, actually. Believe it or not, I kind of want to know if she's okay."

"Perhaps if you stopped worrying about this chick and focused more on your own problems you wouldn't be the way you are."

"Excuse me?"

"We found the notes, Shane. We know all of it. Every little bit."

"..."

"We know that you want to kill yourself."

"..."

"We know that you've been diagnosed with OCD."

"Shut the hell up Jaxon. You don't know the half of it."

"And let me guess, that chick of yours does? Well, guess what Shane? I've known you for pretty much your entire life. And what have you known her for, a month? I think I may be able to understand you a little bit better than she can."

"I doubt that. You don't know me. Not anymore."

"What do y-"

"We're not the same people that we once were Jaxon. Life has forced us to evolve into different people."

"That doesn't mean you can't get help."

"...help?"

"There are people who are trained to deal with stuff like this."

"Stuff like what?"

"OCD, depression and any other things you may be going through."

"Screw you Jaxon."

"I'm trying to help you."

"Stop it. Stop trying to help me."

"Shane-"

"Just stop."

"You have OCD, are considering ending your life and quite possibly have depression. I'm not just going to leave you to fend for yourself."

"Shut your big mouth and keep your labels to yourself Jaxon."

"...labels?"

"OCD. Depression. Bipolar disorder. Anxiety disorder. Dementia. Suicidal. I don't care what the hell it's classified to be, just quit it with the bloody labels. It's not right. You can't just go around plastering that kind of **** on people's heads. It's just not ******* right. These are things that people actually have to go through. Why the hell should I allow myself to be defined by a ******* diagnosis?"

"I...I never thought of it like that."

"Do you want to know why I didn't tell anyone?"

"..."

"Because I don't want to be known as the 'suicidal pop star'. I don't want to be known as 'that guy who had OCD'. I just want to be Shane Caliente."

"Then why did you tell her?"

"..."

"I'm assuming you've told her."

"I have."

"Why her and no one else?"

"Because she's the only one who sees me as Shane Caliente."

"That's not true. I see you as Shane Caliente. Your family sees you as Shane Caliente. The entire world sees you as Shane Caliente."

"No, they don't. You see me as the best friend you once had but now is suicidal. My family sees me as the kid who abandoned them for a better life. The world sees me as the star who never ceases to shine. Well, guess what Jaxon? Guess ******* what? This star burnt the hell out the moment his entire life was put in the sky for the world to see."

"You can still get help."

"It's not like that. I don't need help. It's not like I have a ******* disease or anything. There's nothing wrong with me."

"You could see someone."

"What? Like a therapist who will butt into my problems just so they can get paid? Yeah, no thanks."

"...that's not how therapists work Shane. They could probably help you."

"I don't n-"

"Yes. Yes, you do. You are not going to die Shane. Not on my watch."

"Will you shut up if I say yes?"

"If that's what it takes to keep you breathing then, yes."

"Keep me breathing? That's an odd way to phrase it. Almost makes me feel like I have no control of the situation."

"Do you?  Do you have control?"

"...my mind does. I don't. I suppose I'm not really killing myself. My mind is."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Not really."

"All I'm asking is that you go to at least one therapy session. Maybe they can give you antidepressants or something."

"Are you implying that mental illness can be fixed by drugs?"

"I don't see why not."

"I do. If I want to get out of this **** I'm in I want to do it myself. Not by drugs. That's like cheating myself."

"But it could h-"

"One therapy session Jaxon. One session."

"You've said more curse words in ten minutes than you have in the past month."

"Maybe you just really piss me off."

"..."

"...not really. I mean...you do. Sometimes. I guess I'm just in one of those moods that involves me swearing at the world."

"We all have those **** you world moments."

"...yeah. I guess we do."