The Date Planner

1.21.1.Interrogation

That weekend, we stayed in bed. At least, most of the time. It just seemed like we couldn't get enough of each other.

And Monday arrived a little too early than I wanted it too.

Leaving for work wasn't easy but somehow we parted or tried to at least.

We texted all day with all the innuendos and lot in the mix. By the time lunch rolled in, Clinton had already came to whisk me away.

And that is how I found myself in a hot car-s*x session half hour later.

I usually avoid such scandalous methods and would rather wait until I'm home but somehow Clinton is very convincing and I'm just too weak willed to actually say no to him more than twice.

I totally blame it on our wandering hands.

Whenever we're in reach of other, we just can't seem to stop. Ever since that night at his mansion, it seems like a whole new level of intimacy has formed between us.

Despite the fact that we're having s*x or not, we're always touching.

By the time I arrived back, I was already in a daze. I was so distracted the whole day, I almost caught Liza in a mid-dash to strangle me.

Yeah, unfortunately she has taken the brunt of my absence lately at the office. Not only hiding my whereabouts from our boss but also doing all my work under tons of pressure.

I feel for her but whenever I try to ease her work she just ends up pushing me and telling me to get a life.

Something is strangely up with her.

She's been spending more time at work, doing overtime. And now that I think about it, I can't help but wonder, who is she?

Unfortunately, I've been busy lot myself hence not had a chat with her for a while. I immediately make a note to self about talking to her as soon as she seems free and calm enough to talk.

And that's how my day just flits by without notice. And the whole week. I just get in and out of my apartment to retrieve my change of clothes and off to Clinton's.

Although we've covered a lot of surface area considering we sneaked about in restaurants, malls and about any place you can think of, in the last week.

I couldn't make myself leave him and head to my apartment. So after almost a week, I finally think I've way too much overstayed my stay and leave on Monday because honestly I seriously question is it safe to have so much s*x?

After a whole day of texting and more texting to Clinton at work, I actually go back to my apartment.

I think I missed it a little too.

I think to myself, smiling as I enter the apartment.

I head towards my living room when I notice something strangely odd.

My apartment is always pristine and in clean condition but today what seems odd is that it is trashed. Not in the literal sense but mostly.

There's an ash-tray at my coffee table and bits of alot of ash, here and there. The pungent smell of beer evident in the room and now that I notice it, even smoke.

Oh My God.

There's a too much familiar jacket flung over the edge of my couch as well and I immediately know, who's there.

No wonder he's been silent for so long.

I follow the trail of ash and disgust around my apartment to the kitchen, furious as hell with his behaviour when I spot him, smoking.

He's leaned on the sink, having had opened the windows to let the smoke out. Shirtless and picturesque as he looks, like a painting ready to be painted; I just stare at him for a good second.

Completely forgotten about the mess he has made in my apartment. Hair disarray, eyes drowsy, he smokes leisurely in his sweatpants like an expert.

But that's what stops me. It's so unlike Jason to smoke. He never smokes.

Unless...

Something terrible has happened. My eyes widen in horror, anger suddenly dissipating as thousands of scenarios run through my mind at the different possibilities that could've happened.

He must've needed me, and I...

I was too busy getting f****d by Clinton into oblivion.

A sudden sadness blooms into my heart at his sight which now reminds me of a younger version of him and how he used to be scared of thunder. Though the five o' clock shadow says otherwise today. It's not just a thunder, he faced a whole storm and let it consume him.

I muster up some strength finally.

"Jay?", I whisper softly.

And I watch as his head swiftly turns towards me. That's when I notice it, the bloodshot eyes.

No...

"Jason, I...", I stutter but choke up instead as my heart nearly breaks at his sight.

But before I know it, he's already striding towards me, cigarette thrown into the sink. I'm in his arms the next second as he holds onto me tightly. I embrace him back tightly as I feel him bury his face in the crook of my neck, the action so intimate, I almost shiver as it resonates through my body.

"Jesse. My Jesse", He breathes out, drawing me as close as possible.

His embrace, everything feels so intimate, I almost question it. But decide against it and let it all sink in.

He needs me, that's all that matters right now.

"Hey, you okay?", I swallow the lump in throat and muster out.

He doesn't reply. Just buries his nose further into the neck, snuggling into the spot.

"Jay?"

"I'm... sleepy", he croaks out finally.

And I nod, instantly understanding his command.

He sags against me as I pull him to the nearest bedroom that so happens to be mine.

I lay him down gently and tuck him in. Thankfully, he obeys despite his intoxication. Seconds later, he's out like the light, deep into his slumber, breathing steadily as I watch the rise and fall of his chest.

He looks so tired and messed up yet so peaceful right now.

I gather myself just in time and head to my closet for a change of clothes. But when I open it, my clothes are in a disarray, everything is strewn here and there.

It's a complete mess.

I turn around and head back to my bedroom and that's when I notice the state of my room.

He certainly slept in my bed.

I don't know how long he's been here but from the way my room looks, it seems he has been here his fair share of time.

He has his own room to himself in my apartment and yet somehow he finds my bed more comfortable to sleep in.

What troubles me though is the reason of this chaos. Maybe his heart is the spitting image of the mess that has become my apartment or maybe much worse... It could be much worse what he is feeling on the inside.

***

I took a day off the next day. Thankfully Liza was more than happy with and did not question me further. I have to check in on her too.

Dammit.

Jason is still asleep as I make my coffee and inform Clinton about everything.

He's a little worried for me but makes me promise to call him and let him in on the situation after I've dealt with it and if I needed someone to kick Jason in the nuts, he would like to volunteer without a doubt. I just dismiss him with a warning about taunting my best friend and cut off the call.

I'm sipping my coffee peacefully when a freshly showered and clean Jason walks in the kitchen hesitantly.

I'm sitting by the breakfast bar as I watch him, sleek back his still wet hair with his palms, brushing them back hesitantly, not knowing what to do.

I can tell he's already guilty as he looks at my cleaned apartment now, eyes watching for anything I left for him to clean up.

That, I did not.

Yup, I cleaned the whole apartment this morning after having had slept in the very clean guest room which is clearly meant for Jason, that he didn't sleep in.

I knew he would be guilty and I know the reason he dressed up, cleaned up his appearance is only because of that.

But honestly...

He shouldn't have to. There's clearly something troubling him. And I need to know what.

Jason has had his ups and downs but what he pulled yesterday wasn't a usual occurrence, so I know something is terribly un-placid with him.

I gesture for him to take a seat as soon as his eyes meet mine, sliding the mug of extra coffee I made for him towards him.

He eyes it for a second before taking the seat tentatively opposite to me.

He's still looking at the cup as he sits down. After a few seconds he finally musters some courage as a shaky breath leaves him and he picks up the mug to sip on some of his coffee.

I watch him silently as I try to comprehend if I should be angry or gentle with him.

I decide the later.

"Jay?", I whisper out.

His head instantly snaps up at my voice.

"How long have you been living here?", my voice as feeble as it can get.

"More than a week", he croaks out.

He's been living here for more than a week and yet I didn't cross paths with him? Strange.

Again, that guilt washes over me.

A sudden silence takes over as the conversation feels like ending. So I do the next best thing.

Okay, no beating around the bush anymore.

"Is there something you would like to share?"

Few seconds of silence before a second later his eyes turn cold as his grip on his cup turns fierce.

And I wait as he speaks.

"I don't know, maybe something you would like to tell me?", his hesitation gone.

He's seething with anger now which totally confuses me.

That escalated faster.

"What do you mean?", I question back, clearly clueless at what he's referring to.

I put my mug back and get ready for the onslaught.

He lets out a humorless laugh before shaking his head at me.

"Typical, Justine. Right there", He points to my face as a sardonic smile graces his lips.

"What... I-", I start but he tuts and cuts me off.

I shut up immediately.

There's so much authority in those eyes right now and instantly I know that CEO of Faux is sitting in front of me, not my best friend Jason anymore.

Back straight, I watch him in utter curiosity as he fishes out his phone and starts moving his fingers on it, scrolling and tapping here and there before finally founding what he was looking for.

He slides the open screened phone towards me and I'm thankful that I put my coffee mug down.

It definitely would've fallen down after what I saw on his phone.

I had no idea. And I'm pretty sure not even Clinton knows about this.

Glaring at me, is a paparazzi article of 'Mr. Valsera and his new rendezvous interest' and beneath those large headlines stands a large size picture of me and Clinton kissing each other as we come out of the mall we went to last week, smiling like silly goons having the time of their lives.

Oh. My. God.

I feel Jason's eyes taking in my every reaction as he sips on his coffee leisurely waiting for me to elaborate.

"This is not how I was planning to tell you about it", I say slowly, alarmingly.

"Oh? So, how were you planning on telling me then?", he c***s a brow.

I look at him like a deer caught in headlights, not sure how to approach the subject anymore. He seems really calm. Too calm for this conversation and that's what's scary.

I don't say anything so he continues on.

"Imagine my surprise when I find my best friend kissing my nemesis in the dark of the night, outside her apartment when I repeatedly told her he's a trouble you don't wanna be around,

"Think about placing yourself in my situation and tell me Justine, if you would be approving of my behavior. Would you?", he's glaring at me now.

"Oh and that article? It came a lot after I already knew there was something wrong going with you. Thank you so much for informing me", his sarcasm dripping off his tongue.

Fuck, I messed up bad.

I don't know what to say. I literally don't know what to say to him, I realize with my eyes wide as I watch him.

He stands abruptly, taking in my silence and starts pacing in front of me. Repeatedly running his hand through his hands, he's seething with anger.

I've never felt him so angry. Yes, felt. Now I know the reason of the storm and I don't even know what to say.

I stand up and try to approach him slowly, making my way to him.

"Jay, I assure you there's nothing to worry about-", I start but he cuts me off.

"Nothing to worry about? What are you five, Jesse? Don't you see what he's doing? What he has already done?!", he shouts the last part, gesturing to both of us as he stops and gets closer to me yet keeping his distance.

That ticks me off.

Us? He wants to talk about US?!

"What has he done, Jason? Please do elaborate. You do realize I'm not five, right? I can date whoever the hell I want. I don't need your permission for that", I spat at him.

He's livid. Eyes wild. Ready to murder someone.

"I do realize that, Jesse. But as your best friend, it's my duty to tell you when you're making a mistake", he comes back at me.

Mistake?!

"He is not a mistake, Jason. He is a great guy, can you just not see past your rivalry for once? You would rather sabotage my happiness for it?", I question him back.

He lets out a humorless at that. In fact it turns into a whole fit until he has to literally hold himself up with the help of the breakfast bar.

But nothing prepares me for his next set of words and I almost wish I hadn't asked him of it.

"Tell that to my dead father", he sobers up immediately and spats at me, his face dead serious.

The silence that follows is almost deafening.

"What...? Whatever do you mean?", I whisper out, almost stuttering.

He gives me that sardonic smile again before looking down at his feet, still smiling.

"Guess that son of a b***h didn't tell you about that", he murmurs.

"Jason!", I exclaim.

"Oh god, Justine. You're so freaking naive. I can't even-", he starts chuckling as he turns away from me, rubbing his eyes.

"Jason, just f*****g stop with the naive s**t and just tell me what! What is it?!", I shout back, slamming my hand on the breakfast bar with a force that makes him face me.

That smile still on his f*****g face.

Yup, I'm angry. He has not only questioned Clinton but me too. This is not just about Clinton anymore.

How dare he bring his father? How can he even...

I hold back any more comments because I know I'll only curse him more.

"Why don't you go and ask him yourself, hmm?", he challenges me.

I narrow my eyes at him.

"That I will. But why does it irk you so much, Jay? Tell me. This is more than just your petty rivalry. You've pulled your biggest card, there's something more going on. Tell me", I demand as I take another step in his direction.

In the flash of a second, he's in front of me and I refrain from flinching back as I stand my ground.

"Because I l-", he starts but stops shortly as the words die on his tongue and he backs away from me immediately.

Face white and ashen suddenly. He blinks at me as his chest rises and falls rapidly and I almost see a flicker of tear in his eyes as his face crumbles.

What are you... hiding, Jason?

I almost don't want to know the answer to that as different possibilities flit through my mind. I don't even want to think about it as a small flicker of helpless hope blooms in my heart.

My eyes water in on themselves immediately as sudden pain blooms in my chest and I almost hear my heart healing yet sewing itself again.

"Just get out, Jason", I hiss at him, as I reach that helpless stage where I'm angry yet I want to curl into a ball and cry my eyes out.

"Gladly", he narrows his eyes at me

And that's the last thing he says before hauling his jacket from the couch and making his way out of the apartment, leaving me to pick up our shattered pieces.