"There was a moment in my life when I really wanted to kill myself. And there was one other moment when I was close to that... But even in my most jaded times, I had some hope."

~ Gerard Way

~

"What are you doing here?"

I cleared my throat at our simultaneously asked question and her eyes widened, quickly averting her gaze to her feet. A few seconds passed by before I heard her scoffing in disbelief.

"I'm standing on the edge of a tall building wearing sweats with makeup dripping down my face and depression written all over me. I'm thinking about jumping, Einstein. What does it look like I'm doing? Shaving my legs?" she placed a hand on her hip sassily and gave me a raised eyebrow. She glared at me for a while whilst I tried to regain my composure.

Why are women so damn difficult?

"Well, you do look like a monkey in shorts," I winked at her as an attempt to ease the noticeably rising tension. She glared at me to shut up and I immediately complied. Cursing myself at my stupidity, I cleared my throat and tried to ignore her burning holes into my side. Wait.

Wait.

"You were going to jump?" I asked her incredulously. I ran a hand through my hair in shock and frustration.

She huffed in annoyance and disgust, and turned her attention back down to the busy streets in the city below. I sighed knowing I won't be able to get through to her by yelling, so I took a step towards the edge and drank in the view that lay in front of us.

Yellow taxis swerved in-and-out of the streets, and every now and then the familiar sound of a cop car rang in my ears. I could see people walking the streets calmly with friends and family; some carried shopping bags, some carried suitcases. I noticed a dark alley where several guys gathered and were probably smoking a joint.

I turned my attention towards a small family on the other side of the road: a man, a woman and two children. Boy and a girl. The children seemed to be at least 5, but I was so high up, that it became difficult to tell. I noticed they played with each other whilst their parents held hands, showering each other with tender love and affection. I squirmed uncomfortably at the blatant PDA and at their unsuspecting kids, and I ran a hand through my messy black hair and sighed. This is it. This is what I'm running away from.

And before you start thinking, no I am not a criminal. I just want to start over. New life, new world, new me, and all that sh*t.

I want a family. I want to settle down with someone. I want to be able to come home from work and see my wife and kids, and spend my time with them. I want to be able to take my family to theme parks and outings. I want to be able to put a smile on their faces and lift their spirits whenever they're feeling sad. I want to shower my wife with love and affection and treat her like a Queen. I want to be able to take my children to school every morning and nurse them when they're sick. I want to make sure my life revolves around them and I want to be able to be a good dad, a good husband and a good man.

A real man.

And I wanted all of this with her.

With my Maggie.

But of course, I just had to screw up, didn't I? I cleared the racing thoughts that clouded my mind and focussed back on the situation at hand.

I glanced over to my right to see her standing straight, arms folded with her freckled nose slightly flared. Her eyebrows furrowed as she squinted trying to look closer at the city before us. Her lips slightly parted as a gush of wind swept her hair off her shoulders with strands of her greasy red hair blowing into the wind behind her.

She played with the hem of her t-shirt and looked down at her feet again, her hair falling into her eyes. I drank in her appearance: her straggly red shoulder-length hair covered her face and stuck out in all different directions. Her old white t-shirt was covered with stains of who-knows-what, her baggy blue shorts ended just above her knee and her flip flops were a size too small.

I shuffled uncomfortably at the distinct contrast in appearance between me and her, where I was wearing an expensive black tailor-made suit, a crisp white shirt and a blood-red tie.

Blood-red.

I rolled my eyes at the irony of where my actions would've taken me if she hadn't been here.

But most importantly: what would've happened if I arrived a minute too late?

"What are you doing here?" she sneered, casting a hateful look at me. I ignored her behaviour and focussed my attention on the bustling streets of New York before us.

"Enjoying the view," I sighed at the memories swirling around in my brain. The last time I had ever said that, I was staring at her beautiful face as we lay beneath the stars on our third anniversary.

Now I couldn't even recognise her: her sapphire eyes had become droopy, life drained out of them with dark circles surrounding those once gorgeous ocean-blue eyes.

She looked like something out of a Zombie apocalypse TV show.

"Lies. When things get tough you get scared, when you're scared you get stupid and when you're stupid you lie," the words rolled off her tongue so easily I was slightly taken back.

Is that really how she thought of me?

"I don't lie," I answered too quickly causing her to raise an eyebrow at my behaviour.

"Are you lying about not lying?"

Yes.

"No."

"Liar," she scoffed, folding her arms once more.

"I'm not lying," I bluffed. "I was here to look at the city from a different point of view," she looked at me expectantly as though asking me to continue. "I was here to look down at the city and watch the people go by. See, there's two guys hugging down there, you don't see that often in New York," I pointed out, mentally patting myself on the back at my quick thinking.

She looked over to where I was pointing and squinted. Barely three seconds later, she snorted. "He's mugging him. Your last name is Einstein and your first name is Al. Aren't you supposed to be a genius?" she shook her head at the irony of my name.

Yes, my first name is Al and my last name is Einstein. Allistair Einstein to be exact. Now before you start laughing at the name my parents gave me when they were drunk, the girl I'm talking to is named Maggie. Like what's up with that?

Okay, fine, there's nothing wrong with her name.

But still.

"Why are you really here?" I opened my mouth to respond before she quickly cut me off. "If you're gonna lie again, I'll jump."

My jaw tightened and my fists clenched before I could control myself. How can she say that?

"How can you say that?!" I repeated my conscious question. "How can you possibly say that to me?" I snapped at her, hands shaking. "You can't emotionally blackmail me like that."

"It won't be blackmail if you tell the truth. Don't strain yourself too much," she muttered sarcastically.

"Why are you so insistent that I'm a liar? Actually no, scratch that. Let's focus on you: why are you thinking of jumping?" I tried to keep my voice steady as I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"Because I give up, Einstein, isn't that much obvious?" she shook her head and sighed. I stole a sneaky look her way before I sat down on the edge of the building with my legs dangling. I leaned back on my hand whilst loosening my tie with the other.

"Sit," I patted to the space next to me, and when she reluctantly sat down, she kicked her flip flops off the edge and watched them fall down. I looked at her curiously.

"They were two small anyways," she shrugged. I nodded but was still a little taken back by her behaviour.

"What's new with you? The last time I saw you was a year ago after I caught you and Rebecca getting cosy at that Christmas party last year," she asked nonchalantly, picking at her nails.

"Why must you bring that up? We were just starting to get along," I groaned at my stupidity of ever cheating on her.

I'm an ass, I know.

Now before you start wondering what the Hell is going on, Maggie and I used to date. For three and a half years. And then I decided to get pissed off my ass and make out with her cousin.

I'm such a d*ck.

"Just sparking up a conversation,"

"Here's one: why are you jumping?" I snapped my head to look at her intently, and when she didn't answer I scrubbed a hand down my face. "Seriously, Maggs?"

"Don't call me that. You lost that right on Christmas," she glared at me once more.

"Why? And stop stalling," I ignored her and sighed at her stubborness.

"Well, my three-year boyfriend cheated on me with my cousin, my dad wants nothing to do with me because of his stupid vendetta against girls--"

"Women," I corrected her. "Vendetta against women," she gave me a look of confusion before I added "What? You're a woman, not a girl. Carry on."

She gave me what I thought was a hint of a small smile and continued, "Vendetta against women," she stressed earning a small chuckle from me. "My mom's dead, I can't afford the rent and I got fired half a year ago. I have nothing and no-one."

"You lost your job? But you loved that café," I frowned. Maggie was a waitress at this café we used to absolutely adore. It was called Café Penfold named after a little old lady who used to own the café several years ago.

"Yep," she said popping the 'p.' "Loved that place, but apparently if you spill coffee on a customer twice in a row, swear at them, and then stuff chilli biscuits down their pants, you get fired," Her eyes twinkled mischievously, as mine widened at her words.

"Who'd have thought?" I asked her sarcastically. "Wait, hang on, since when do you swear? And chilli biscuits? Really?" I mused struggling to contain my laughter.

Maggie was always the good girl: I mean sure she had a little bit of a dark side (don't all women?) but she was the kind of person who would bleach her underwear.

And then iron them.

"A lot has happened since you screwed me over by screwing my cousin so I decided to screw the world with everyone in it," she told me with finality. I guess she really has given up. And I was the reason why.

"Damn, that's a lot of screwing," I joked trying to lighten up the mood. She sent me a hateful look. "How big was the condom?" Her expression quickly changed from 'shut-the-hell-up' to one filled with happiness.

"You haven't changed a bit. I mean you still somehow manage to stain the part of your shirt underneath your tie," she snorted in disbelief, lifting my tie up to show a mustard stain. This is the Maggie I know and still love.

"How did that get there?" I asked incredulously pretending to remember what I had for lunch, earning another beautiful giggle to escape her plump lips.

"Why are you even wearing a suit?" she asked me as I scratched the back of my head.

"I wanted to die in style," I told her honestly.

"Seriously?" she smirked.

"I look good in suits," I said defensively, gesturing arrogantly towards my body, waggling my eyebrows at her as I did.

"Okay okay," Maggie giggled. "I miss you, Einstein," she admitted, running her fingers through her soft hair.

"I miss you too," I stared into her gorgeous blue eyes and sighed. "I really really do. I'm sorry about Rebecca," I looked down guiltily at my dangling feet, watched one of my untied laces blowing against the wind.

"I know. But I'm still not ready to forgive you," she told me with authority clear in her voice.

"I understand," I nodded. I'm such an ass.

"Why are you here?" she repeated once more.

"To jump," I watched the look of horror unfold on her beautiful features as she took in a large breath. "Same as you."

"Why?" she asked, her eyes widened slightly.

"My parents resent me, my brother treats me like a child and.. Well, I lost you," My voice trailed off and I glanced back at the traffic that was now building up on the roads.

"Come on, losing me wasn't that bad," she denied, shaking her head with disbelief.

"That's what you think," I scoffed, leaning back on my hands. "And my career is going nowhere, and I'm barely raking enough money to feed and support myself."

"But the suit?"

"Calvin's," I shrugged, giving her a lazy smile.

Calvin is my snooty older brother by three years: the literal definition of ass-wipe. He works in a large accountancy firm, and constantly brags about the money he's earning, knowing full-well that I can barely get by on the little cash I have. Dad's been pissed off at me ever since I rejected a basketball scholarship in high school and chose the career path of being an artist instead.

"A real man is someone who can take a beating, not some punk-ass little boy who doodles in a grotty little notebook like a sissy."

His cruel words have played like a sick, scratchy song in my head ever since the age of 6; my father has hated me for choosing the 'grotty' notebook over a basketball.

As for my mother, it's a different story: she's always supported me in my endeavours but the second she found out I cheated on Maggie, she's been talking to me in monosyllables.

Thus leading Calvin to be the golden boy in our jacked-up family.

"Is it fate?" I snapped my head to face Maggie, as her voice interrupted my thoughts. "Is it fate that we both met here with the same idea playing deep in our minds?" she asked me intuitively, playing with the hem of her shirt.

Sighing, I took my tie off completely and chucked it into the streets below. "I don't believe in that." I told her honestly as I undid three of my top buttons on my mustard-stained shirt.

"Well I do," she quickly stood up but my heartbeat quickened at the sight of her leaning forward. "Come on."

My eyes widened at the thought of her jumping. "What are you doing?" Worry was laced in my voice as I tried to keep my breathing steady.

"Let's do it. Let's jump," She held out her hand for me to take and looked me dead in the eyes. "Together."

My heart stopped at the look of sheer determination on her beautiful face.

No. No. No.

"Suicide isn't the answer," I told her as I jumped to my feet. She frowned at me and retreated her hand.

"That's pretty hypocritical of you seeing as you were here to jump too," she glared at me folding her arms.

"Yes, but it's different now. We've found each other again and we can help each other," I panicked, hands shaking and voice wavering. I can't let her, I won't let her. I tried pulling her towards me, but she shook me off, eyes focused onto the hard concrete pavement in the streets below us.

"Classic Einstein: can't finish what he started," she ignored my protects and inched herself a little closer to the edge of the building.

"Maggie, don't do this," I warned her, holding out my hand for her to take.

"Why? There's nothing left for me here. I'm better off up there," she nodded her head up to the clouds above us and sighed dreamily. "I long to know what it's like up there."

"And I long for you to not die. Ever," I raised my voice as she started shuffling closer to the edge. My hands balled tightly into fists, anger rushing through my veins.

This is all my fault.

"I guess we can't all get what we want, Einstein. You of all people should know that."

"What?" My eyes bore into hers as I tried to understand her cryptic words.

"I wanted you, you wanted Rebecca and now we're both alone. That's not what any of us wanted," she concluded, peering over the edge of the building with curiosity.

She twirled around so that her back was facing the edge of the building. "Goodbye, Einstein."

My heart leaped and my mouth ran dry as she took a single step back, a mass of red hair falling after her.