Chet’s stomach growled hungrily. He was always hungry and he wished desperately that one day, he would just have a normal appetite instead of one that demanded to be satiated every hour or whenever he smelled food- whichever came earlier. Half-baked diets and DVDs of exercise gurus which never made it out of their packaging constantly fed his hopes for a lean and muscular physique like that of his best friend, Frank Hardy.

"Come on, Chet! You’re fine like that! It’s not like you are severely obese, you’re just big-sized. Just be yourself… you can’t mold who you are to fit into some society’s concept of beauty which is so superficial, not to mention, fickle."

Yup. His best friend. Frank would always whack him on the head whenever he was discovered trying out some dangerous new diet fad. However, using the term "best friend" to describe Frank’s relationship with him nowadays seemed to be stretching it too far. Their friendship was put to the test by his blunt candor and Frank’s anger at anyone who dared to judge Joe’s mental state of being. Chet knew he was not judging- he thought he was just stating what was blatantly obvious that even a blind could see with crystal clearness. He too wanted to help Joe and wished he could do more to help him out of his depression. Tony, Phil and even Biff too had the same desire. However, he was not in denial to Joe’s lunacy, like Frank was. Maybe he phrased his concerns in a too tactless manner that was difficult for the ears but his heart was in all the right places.

Frank shouldn’t be too quick to judge me too. I have forgiven Joe a long time ago for Iola. It’s Joe who could not forgive himself. What did he do that was so unforgivably wrong? Flirt with other girls? Sometimes Iola did that to him- flirt with other guys too.

At least now he’s looking much better. Duller but better. He’s smiling.

He would never know why he would always be just a little reserved when it came to his friendship with the younger Hardy boy but he understood a large part of it had to do with Iola’s passing. A few months after her death, he could not even look Joe in the eye. Joe dealt with his depression then by pulling his brother together with him into case after case, wearing the memory of Iola like a badge as he crusaded against evil, taking the onus on himself to rid the world of all the bad guys.

Chet only made reconciliation with Joe after the talk they had when Joe was pursuing the nefarious Assassins who staged Vanessa’s death. Joe’s craziness was already very much evident then and unknown to their gang, Chet had heaved a huge sigh of relief when Ness was found alive and safe in Joe’s arms again.

But only for a while. That episode was a dress rehearsal- a morsel for his friend to taste before life dished out the real feast for Joe to gorge himself silly on. Heartfelt smiles refused to bless the once joking lips and lines of joviality became tracks trodden over by cynicism. Iola’s death had changed Joe’s outlook on life. Vanessa’s death had utterly devastated him.

"Erm, Joe… I don’t think putting in a phrase like, ‘If you don’t show up, we’ll hound you wherever you are and kill you,’ is such a good idea. After all, Chet’s a very friendly person… you’re making him sound psychotic…" Tony suggested helpfully and took over utilizing the notebook from Joe. Joe grunted disinterestedly and leaned back against the headboard of his bed as Tony furiously typed away to make changes.

A little worried by Tony’s comments, Chet hurried over from the sofa where he was comfortably sitting and reading a magazine while simultaneously drinking from a can of ice-cream soda.

"Don’t worry, Chet, we’re not going to ruin your reputation…" Tony looked up from the notebook, which was placed on the swivel table attached to the bed-frame meant for breakfast in bed. Chet saw the remedy that Tony had applied immediately to Joe’s destructive comments and heaved a sigh of relief inwardly.

"Just, you know, trying to make sure people do come for Chet’s party since his social life leaves… much to be desired…" Joe slurred a little at some parts- a manner of speech Chet and the rest of them had to get use to, at least until Joe got accustomed to the medication he was on and the side-effects moderated down.

"Very funny, Hardy. Anyway," Chet drew out a piece of paper from his pants’ pocket and passed it to Joe, "this is the guest list. All their email addresses are inside. Think you can handle this complicated mission?"

"Oh… no… why don’t teach me how to type?" Joe drawled derisively and listlessly took the list and perused through it, twisting his lips at the same time.

"You’re not inviting a lot of people…"

"Like you said, I’m a social zero." Chet stated matter-of-factly. Joe appeared apologetic and looked up at Chet with downcast eyes.

"I don’t mean that, buddy… I meant…"

"It’s ok, Joe. I know you were only joking… I wanted to keep the party simple…"

"No… let me finish. You’re not a social zero. You’re a social… negative." Joe raised an arched brow and Tony let out a slight guffaw at Chet’s peeved expression. Chet picked up a flimsy comic book on Joe’s bedside table and playfully swiped it at his friend’s blond head.

"Very unfunny! You had better do a good job with my e-Invitation! Tell me of the attendance soon, ok?"

"Yah, yah… "Joe waved at Chet to stop his worried nagging. "You’re sounding like my mom..."

Chet watched as Joe and Tony continued to add dressing onto the e-card they were drafting and for once, regretted not insisting that Phil help him out on that aspect. Phil had declined Chet’s request, jokingly saying that if Chet paid him, he might consider. But Chet knew the real reason was that Phil was becoming increasingly busy with his freelance graphic work for some advertising companies, some of which were recommended by Andrea whom Phil talked to sometimes regarding computer graphic and animation technology.

However, it was a simple enough job and Frank had been grateful that Chet offered to let Joe help out. His best friend was convinced that if Joe kept himself busy, he would not have the time and energy to think about silly thoughts. Whatever those silly thoughts were, Chet had no clue only that Frank would be disturbed at any mention of them and his deep brown eyes would cloud over with unmasked anxiety.

Leaving his two friends to settle the invitation business for him, Chet went back to the couch, crossed his legs and continued to read his magazine, feeling like boss who, after delegating the menial tasks, could finally attend to more important responsibilities like enjoying some peace and quiet.

***

Mina was about to knock on Joe’s room door but stopped herself abruptly. She had no idea how difficult it was to break through the wooden barrier but she guessed it had too much to do with a broken heart.

She knew it was too short a time for her to overstep the boundary of friendship into that of love but she was sucked into the vortex that was so sweetly intoxicating and yet, tearing her heart apart.

Enough. You know what you’ll get if you go in. You’re only his friend. You can be there for him morally. You don’t have to endure the struggle which he would not even care for anyway. Just leave before he breaks your heart again.

However, she could not just leave him alone. She was hopelessly drawn to that one lost soul floundering in the darkness. He kept his distance and even pushed her away with well-meaning words that drew more blood than a straight out rejection would for she never knew where she stood with him.

He left her terribly confused.

She heard laughter from behind the door and a smile crept up the sides her lips. Joe’s room was leaking out the sounds of happiness out to the corridor and from the cacophony of laughter, she could make out his.

Sucking in a deep breath, knowing her heart would never forgive her if she just retreated into a hidden corner. Mina willed courage into her daunted spirit and was just about to knock when she was interrupted in mid-action again. This time, the culprit was not her own reluctance or perplexity. This time, the culprit was Chet Morton. He swung the door open at the precise moment when she was about to knock. When he saw her, his unassuming brown eyes rounded in surprise momentarily before a friendly smile loaned definition to the chubby cheeks.

"Mina! How have you been?" Chet pulled her swiftly in an enthusiastic hug, which she returned smilingly because it warmed her heart.

"I’m good. You?"

"Just leaving. Tony and Joe…" Chet jerked his head towards the two young men sitting on the bed. Upon hearing his name, Tony looked up and waved excitedly at Mina. Joe simply stretched his lips into a semblance of a smile and shattered her heart again by looking away too casually- too quickly.

"They’re helping me plan my party. Joe’s is put in charge of the e-invitations. Saves me money from ballooning phone bills. Hey, if you’re not doing anything next Friday, do come over and make some new friends all right?" Chet invited her personally. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ears and nodded again. Chet beamed happily.

"Don’t worry about presents though it is my twenty-first birthday!"

"I won’t forget. What’s a birthday without a present? Thanks for inviting me. Are you sure you have room for one more?" Mina touched his forearm and he patted her hand back reassuringly.

"Plenty of room, besides, you were already in the guest list. Okies… time for me to make a move. Tony! Your dad’s gonna carve my ass and yours if we don’t return to Mr. Pizza soon!" Chet turned around and hollered at his dark-haired buddy. Tony raised a hand to stall him for moment as he typed something into the notebook while Joe indolently observed. Chet waited for a few seconds before Tony hopped off the bed and joined him on the way out. They stepped aside to let Mina through first before they left.

Joe shut down the notebook and she did not know if she should just take a seat beside him until he patted an empty spot next to him on the bed.

"Sit here." He looked up and smiled at her shakily. Mina breathed in deeply before she complied.

"Wayne came by yesterday. When I’m out of here by middle of next week, I’ll be fronting the band again… you want to take a look at some new songs I’ve written? They sound happier…" Joe spoke softly while looking down at his hands, which were lying open-palmed in front of him on his crossed lap. Mina noticed the gloves were gone and the scars were once again visible. With some determination, she plucked some courage out of nothingness to bridge the distance between the both of them.

She reached over and, with a slender index finger, traced the bloated trails and wrinkled paths that told of pain smoldering beneath the creeks which he would not share with her. Expecting him to snatch his hand away, she was mildly struck that he allowed her to touch him and thus, she clasped the hand she was blueprinting and leaned closer.

His hands were shaking badly.

"I don’t want to look at them now. I want to hear you sing them and if they’re happy, they better make me laugh." Mina replied- all serious in her jesting. Joe turned and gazed at her with sweet, sad hope and she took that as a cue. Holding his hand tighter with her left hand, she cupped his cheek with the other and he closed his eyes, snuggling his left cheek against her soft palm while his breathing quickened. Calmingly, she stroked his unblemished cheek that was a little too dry to the touch- soothing him with a physical lullaby- the caress of perspiring body by soft, cool wind.

It was not long before her curious hand mapped out his features via touch that electrified her fingertips. It was almost as if she was endeavoring to memorize his looks by touch alone. She traced the brows that were knitted with the thread of tenseness; the contours of his hollow cheeks up to the jutting cheekbones- weathered scalpel sharp by bleak sorrow.

His face was a sculpture chiseled melancholic perfect in the masterful hands of tough Experience- chipping away at edges when thrown to the mercy of the temperamental weather.

Maybe her touch melted him for a trickle of tear meandered down from his right eye. Just a drop of tear- men don’t cry much. She dabbed the tear away tenderly with her thumb and then ran a fingertip across sensitive lips which trembled at the intimate contact. After pressing the slight dent just below the lips gently, Mina let her finger slide down the protruding chin and past the neck before he suddenly grab her wandering hand with his free one just as she was about to trace down to his chest.

"Don’t…" He begged huskily with eyes closed almost in pain. His grip on her hand loosened and she extricated it without much effort. Star blue eyes emerged behind heavy lids and burned into her with unbridled intensity. With the hand that was no longer held by hers, he encircled her supple waist as if he had thought through it after much deliberation- almost with conviction.

She was frightened and, immediately, baffled by her fear. This moment was all she ever wanted but now that it was happening, she was thrown into a spiraling whirlpool of "what-ifs" and "maybes". Then he leaned over and, half-expecting a crushing kiss, she was pleasantly surprised when he lightly kissed her cheek instead. It was a sweet, innocent feeling.

Her fears were assuaged.

She closed her eyes as his lips lingered on her skin.

"Joe…" She whispered his name softly like an incantation for love to meld their destinies together as one when the kiss broke and his face was still only a breath away from hers.

"Joe..."

"No!" Joe’s sudden outburst caused her eyes to flutter open in perplexity. Her vision focused just in time to see his raging expression. Joe’s eyes flared but his anger was not directed at her. He snatched his hand away and glowered menacingly into her eyes and yet not her. It was as if he was angry at some faraway entity that she could not comprehend.

What now?

"Go home!"

"Joe?" She was truly thrown off-track this time round. Were they not fine just a while ago? The dream weaving them together burst achingly and she was once again driven to tears by him. She would never understand him- he was an erratic pendulum, swinging faster and faster with no intentions of settling down. She could try and make him stay still but she could try all her life and the only result was wasted time and energy on someone who would not reciprocate.

Joe’s expression turned to one of shock at his hostility as his eyes immediately hooded over apologetically. Jerkily, he got out of his bed and disengaged himself away from her.

"Go home, Mina. I’m sorry. It will never happen again." Joe promised but Mina wanted him to retract the heart-breaking vow. She reached for him and he staggered back even more.

"Mina, just go. Leave me alone!" Joe snapped at her angrily and pointed at the door- the exit out. Her heart twisted for she had no idea what she had done to agitate him so. Without a clue, she simply stared at him- dumbfounded by the sudden changes in his temperament.

"LEAVE ME ALONE! GO! JUST GO DAMN IT!" Joe yelled at her and stormed over to the door, clutching his hair at the same time. He threw the door opened and indicated the way for her.

Climbing out of his bed, Mina hugged herself and was too much in shock to cry though she was utterly humiliated. More so, she was cruelly rejected by him when she thought he had wanted her. Feeling like a complete idiot, Mina tightened the self-embrace and quickly walked out of his room before the first drop of tear fell.

Why, Joe? Why won’t you let me into your world? You feel something for me. I know it. Why? Did I do something to deserve this from you?

She left without a backwards glance and the door slammed shut behind her, its angry crash echoed down the hallway, into her ears and crashed upon her heart. Joe was unfathomable and Mina could not see a crack in which she could reach into to try and heal the broken spirit.

***

Joe leaned back against the door and gazed blankly at the room, absorbing none of the details that were presented before his naked sight. His heart pounded relentlessly with anger and anguish and as he pressed a palm over his chest, feeling the rapid pulsations, he thought he was going to die from a heart attack and, not to mention, one bloody, ripping headache.

His stomach churned and he dashed into the bathroom, collapsing onto the smooth tiles. He hugged the toilet bowl and retched. The rank smell of vomit permeated the air but it was all normal to him. Maybe his gullet was already corroded with all the acidic bile sloshing up its tender linings. Joe did not care. He imagined he was expelling the filth and sordidness- the terrible images called up by his memories and maybe this time, when he was finished, he might grow so weak and knock his head against something- amnesia might be his soul’s salvation.

No. I don’t want to forget her. I don’t want to forget you!

Staring at the fetid mess in the toilet bowl with morbid fascination, Joe weakly stood up and flushed it all away- flushed all vestiges of sordid images in his mind away. Moving over to the basin, he hunched over and clutched its polished porcelain side so cooling to the touch and pushed the lever up, letting crystal clear water flow with the promise to cleanse.

He splashed his face with water before rinsing his mouth with the biting astringent of mouthwash. Prickling pain overrode his system and distracted him from the terrible dread in his stomach.

Have you forgotten about me? Joe?

Joe closed his eyes. Vanessa was behind him and she was not. He knew she was not real but at the same time, he could sense her presence. She was gone for a while but she returned and he knew the reason why.

 

It was not that he would not try. He hated the medication- the dullness it caused him to languish in. He wanted his mind to be sharp because whoever had taken Vanessa was not yet found. Maybe the fervor had died down in Frank’s heart but for Joe, the raging fire burned and with each passing day, its voracious appetite for the truth grew more frightening as it sought to consume Joe’s very own soul.

Revenge was never a good motive for anything but Joe could no longer contain it though a rational, compassionate part of him begged him to stop the anger and madness.

You don’t seek the truth anymore? I don’t mean a thing to you now, right? You’re looking so stupid, ignoring me like that.

He pounded his forehead in frustration as conflicting emotions and desires whirled into one menacing tornado threatening to uproot his sanity- a sanity that was still being fought for deep down in the inner recesses of his mind.

"I’m not. I… I can’t talk to you anymore. You’re not here, Ness. You’re not."

Then why do you answer me?

"You don’t exist. Take a deep breath… I’m hearing things… delusional… yes. Delusional. Take a deep, deep breath and it’ll go away…" Joe squeezed his eyes shut and chanted. He turned around and tried to grope his way out of the bathroom without the aid of sight.

But he could not. Vanessa’s hair brushed against his hand. He opened his eyes and saw her beside him, looking into his eyes with her rounded sad ones.

Joe, my love. Don’t give up.

Joe took a deep breath and walked away from her to his bed. Willing himself to ignore her presence which he now rationally knew was just a product of his mind; he slinked down under the covers, squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take a nap.