#farewell gate

In order to achieve such a mighty goal he has systematically failed in every aspect of his life that someone could hold an expectation of him in. School, work, his future (college), any and all relationships in his life. In short, Greg quickly proved that he was not going to be the person that anyone wanted him to be. He was never going to let the thought 'but they would be so disappointed in me if I didn't...' pass his mind. It didn't matter who it was. His parents, his siblings, his friends (friend), teachers, girls... Especially girls. He was not going to be put into that position of crippling guilt and anxiety by anyone. Sorry but not sorry.

This approach has been tough but effective. By the time he'd turned eighteen he had no stable relationship to his name, a handful of people he could loosely give the term 'friend' to, a bucketful of mistakes and a reputation of a complete and utter asshole. Needless to say that the goal was achieved. People made it easier as the years went on. They stopped caring, they stopped thinking that he could do better, stopped encouraging him to do just that. Everything just fell into place like pieces of a very simplistic jigsaw puzzle. Unfortunately there is one very big problem with being that guy: the self-destructive one with absolutely no fuck to give.

The problem is this: Gregory Porter cares.

That's it. That's the big cliché secret. He cares. He cares about people, he cares about his grades and his future, his family – their expectations. The way he has systematically failed each and every one of them, but once you commit to this kind of thing, there's no going back. It's just too hard that way. If you choose to stop being 'that guy' then it means that you have to confront the fact that you're a fraud. That every mistake you ever made had an impact on someone. Every wrong thing you said, every lie you ever told, every dumbass action you decide to partake in has to be taken into account. You have to sift through every single one of your faults and things you have done wrong and right them. Make them better. There's a lot of apologizing (which obviously you're not any good at because you're an asshole who is not in possession of a soul or, similarly, feelings). There is a lot of soul searching (again, difficult, considering the whole 'lack of soul' thing). The worst part? You have to look in the mirror and if you don't like the person you see? You have to live with that. You have to care about that.

All in all? Redemption arcs are overrated.

So Greg went down the unapologetic route. And sometimes he cared. But then the next second he'd screw up and if he cared then that would have been a whole lot of guilt, self-hatred, self-deprication and again, apologizing. Here's another secret: people do not love to hear the word sorry when they're hearing it for the one hundredth time.

Greg didn't want to live in a world where he was constantly apologizing to Juliette Palmer. Or to Rose Evans. Isabel Valentine. … Bonnie Brightman.

He couldn't. Plain and simple.

Here' the thing: on the outside, yes it is plain and simple. It's how you can make out with someone one minute and act like you've completely forgotten about them the next. It's how you can sleep with someone who you've known all your life. How you can kiss them and leave. It's how you can make mistake after mistake and still get by because you do not care. The price for this? You do care only you can't talk about it. You can't write about it or sing about it. You can't express it in any manner.

You feel it, you get over it. That's it. That is your life. End of story.

The worst part of the 'caring' thing? Being presented so aggressively with the fact that you are not good enough if not by the object of your affection herself then by the guys who are so obviously the better choice for her. You remember the self-loathing part, right? The self-destructive part. The part that guarantees no stable happiness ever. That part makes sure that even if that person is defending you, even if they're screaming at you, telling you that you're wrong – that you deserve to have them in your life – you don't listen. Sure, you can hear them but you can't listen to them. It's pretty bitter sweet if you think about it but whatever. Life's tough, get a helmet.

That's not the real problem though. The real problem lies a little closer to home.

It's easy to disappoint and lower expectations when there are others to take your place. To achieve what you refuse to achieve. Living in Simon Porter's shadow is chilly to say the least and it would have been a nightmare if Greg had actually tried to live up to those standards. Those impossibly high standards. Then there's Annie – who will be better in every way and make up therefore for everything that Greg has lacked in. And this was fine. This was how it worked. They all knew it. Despite their attempts to reach him, to change him, everyone knew what they were in for.

Greg was Greg. Enough said.

He hated himself for letting Bonnie get hurt. Hated himself in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. He hated how he felt, all of how he felt and then of course there was the Other Guy who's job it was to remind him that he had every right to hate himself. Benjy would be so much better for Bonnie. Greg knew that – he acknowledged it as fact. So here's the kicker: it didn't make him want her any less. That's the really shitty part, you know. Being 'that guy'. The other guy. The bad guy. It doesn't stop you from wanting what you want, knowing you can't have it, knowing that even if you could – you wouldn't be able to take it. Because you would never be able to justify it. You would never be able to convince yourself that you were allowed to be happy.

Many a punch had been thrown at Greg Porter's face but the one that Benjy landed him with that night was by far the most deserving.

When he came home that night he hadn't expected there to be anyone there. Hadn't expected anyone to care. It was just Greg. Did it matter what time he came home at? What he looked like? Where he was? It never did before because he had made sure that this sort of thing was just Greg being Greg. No one had left him a note. Given him the memo. Told him that tonight was the night that everything came crashing down although given the previous events of the evening – he should have seen it coming.

Many an argument has been had between Greg Porter and his father. None of them were quite like this one.

The shouting rattled through the whole house. His mom cried – he made his mom cry. He disappointed her. He disappointed both of them. The drinking, the house parties (the disrespect), the grades, the way that just when things were getting a little better he managed to somehow pull them back down again. The fights, the bruises, having to bailed out off the station. They were done. They were sick of it. What was he going to do. What are you going to do? College obviously wasn't in the cards. Pouring drinks and wiping down a bar – that was it. That was all he had – that is all you have. He was eighteen now. He was an adult now.

Why should they let him stay under their roof if this is how he was going to treat them?

Under their roof. He did not deserve to be under their roof. Maybe he should get out.

Greg had walked away in the end. Quickly, the decision already made. He'd closed his door, pulled out the rucksack and started to pack. Of course then memories and nagging reasons to stay started to pour into his conciousness. Of course that's also when his one and only talent came into play: self-destructiveness. No matter who he told himself he had to stay for he could easily justify why he didn't have to.

Juliette had got smart, fallen into the arms of Cooper. Blundering idiot maybe but a good guy. Rose didn't need him to look after her, not when she had such a tight knit group who would do anything for her, and had. Isabel wasn't interested – he could tell. Claire didn't even like him anyway. Scott would get over it – Scott got over anything (even if Greg liked to believe he knew him better than that, he ignored it). Scott probably wouldn't even notice that he was gone. Good riddance and all that, he would say. Annie had Simon (especially now he had moved back into town, he was readily available for all her big brother needs. Besides, he was the better brother). His parents obviously had their two other children who justified their other son. Their disappointing son. The team would get over it. He even thought briefly of Quinn and Maddie and their ridiculous sunny disposition. Other people. All the people who had been stuffed into his house. Connie. Valerie. Plenty of guys would be happy if he backed off their girlfriends (but not girlfriends?) for good. Alex. Ted. Angel chorus would probably erupt.

Bonnie would have Benjy. Benjy would be delighted.

He actually half smiled at that part.

When he'd fully made the decision – no going back, no backing out. Just doing it – it was like suddenly there was this great weight off his chest. No need to feel guilty or apologize. This would be the boldest apology of all. He would simply get out off everyone's life. Leave them to it. The world would continue to spin.

Of course now that he knew what he was going to do, being 'that guy' didn't seem all that important anymore. Acting like he didn't care didn't have a purpose anymore. So that meant that he could say goodbye without... Saying goodbye. It didn't matter. He didn't have to face his mistakes after this. He didn't have to look back – he wouldn't.

Then she kissed him and it sucked. Not the kissing, the kissing itself was kind of amazing but that was why it sucked. Because he had to go and she looked at him like she really wanted him to stay and not being 'that guy' meant feeling the full force of that. Of course he could stay and want her and never deserve her and so begins a vicious cycle, a never-ending pool of arguments. Or he could get out of her way. Get out of their way. His justification skills were really rather remarkable at times.

He bid adieu to his little sister, his big brother, his best friend. People who had been crazy enough, stupid enough to believe in him even just for a second. He did what he had to and the rest is history.

Or it's going to be history once he gets on this bus, because he is getting on this bus.

His feelings can fight him all they want, argue with him, bombard him with whatever they have but he was getting on this bus. If he left now then 'what ifs' would never become real things. No matter how real they felt. They were just glimpses. Small moments that after time would fade. Would be replaced by bigger and better – so much better – moments. That was how he could do it, you know? Because he truly and whole heartedly believe that it was for the best.

That they would be better off without him.

Senior year.

God... What was so important about that again?

It must have been something, because that was why she came back, right? Because it was senior year. She had plans. She and Ruby had plans. There was cheerleading. And boys. Prom. Boys. Miss Havensdale. Probably something else along the lines of 'boys'. Thinking about it now she couldn't help but feel as stupid as other people looked at her like she was. Those things didn't mean anything. Those things weren't worth her life – worth Ruby's life. Or her parents. Lua. Logan... The people she loved couldn't be her excuses anymore.

You know Jess had pretty much been a brunette from birth. Sure she'd gone through that whole semi-permanent crazy colour phase in middle-school but that was all it was. A phase. Her hair had to be authentic. It had to be her own because one day it was going to be worth millions. You see Jess was going to be one of those girls you saw in the tabloids all the time. One of those girls who were famous just for being famous. Jessica Harvelle was going to be the next Kim Kardashian. Minus the sex tape. Probably.

That had been the plan.

Forty-minutes. That's how long she had to wait before the dye sunk in properly. That's how long she had to wait before it would be official. Before it would be real.

Aaron. Alex. Rebecca. Ruby. ...Carlos. Carlos... The towel boy. The towel boy. God she didn't even know his last name. The list of people she had almost hurt was so much longer. But these were people she'd grown up with. This was her home. This was the place she'd worn dorky braces and dungarees. This was the place she took her first steps, said her first words, maxed her first credit card...

Thirty minutes.

The packing was easy enough. She didn't need much. Perhaps another key point to demonstrate just how far she was from the person she used to be. The human she used to be. Ruby had said she wasn't Jess – that she was the monster who had taken Jess' place. What if that was true? Sure she still looked like herself. She sounded like herself. But... How many pairs of socks should she take? Might as well just throw them all in.

This would be easy. Her parents could answer any questions. Ruby and Corey... Well they'd survive. They had each other. Logan wouldn't even remember her. And Lua would be fine. Lua was always fine. This was also right. It was definitely right, even if it didn't feel right. She couldn't keep going on like this. Pretending she was okay, that she was holding it together because she wasn't. She felt too much and when she wasn't feeling too much she was overcome by an impossible urge to kill. Not feed – kill. Blood was all she thought about. Blood was all she could think about. And when she wasn't thinking about blood she was left to think about the devastation she had caused because of it.

She had tried to kill her best friend.

Twenty-three minutes.

Jessica had tried to kill her best friend. The worst part was she had felt it. The want. The need. She had wanted to kill her best friend. It was like she was a whole other person and if she couldn't control herself then Ruby was right – she had to be stopped. But not by Ruby. She wouldn't make her do that. She couldn't make her kill her, not after they were getting back to how they were. At least, to a place where maybe Ruby could forgive her. Jess' fingertips brushed over the envelopes lying on her desk next to her framed photos. Happy smiling faces. Happy smiling human faces. It was lame, wasn't it? To leave a letter. It was really, really lame. But she just couldn't do it. Saying goodbye to Ruby... Saying goodbye to Corey... It would be too much. And they would convince her to stay.

Jess couldn't stay.

Seventeen minutes.

Would she need a bikini where she was going? Wherever she was going. Maybe. Possibly. Take the pink one. Oh, and the blue one. You always need to have a back up just in case the first one gets stained or carried away in the waves and not every beach in the states was a-okay with nudity. Which Jess had never understood but whatever. Either way the bikinis were going. See, it was things like this. These little human things that made her think that maybe, just maybe she could do this. She'd had enough people tell her she could after all but what did they know? They had too much belief. Too much attachment to who she used to be.

Jessica wasn't human. She was never going to be human again. She'd never grow old. She'd never have a family. She was dead.

This wasn't a second chance. This wasn't her saving grace. She would have rather died. She should have died.

And him. Edward.

He terrified her. The way he made her feel terrified her. Like she would do anything he asked without hesitation. She might not have known much about being a vampire but she knew what she felt, and he wasn't just another vampire. He had turned her for a reason and that reason was something she did not want to be a part of. She wouldn't be a part of it. Jess had to get away. She had to get far, far away.

She'd never been to New Orleans before. Or Chicago. Barely anywhere in Europe. There would be hunters there, other vampires and she'd be free to make her own mistakes without a safety net. She'd be free to either sink or swim and that was just fine. It should have scared her, it should have stirred up some sort of emotion but right now as she packed her life up into a bag it didn't. Jessica wanted to die – she didn't care if she died. In fact she was more than sure that she deserved to die.

She was a monster and she deserved to die.

Eight minutes.

That's when she heard the front door open.

Running down the stairs she didn't hesitate for a second before throwing herself into her dad's arms. Now don't get her wrong, she wasn't an idiot. She knew exactly what kind of man Charles Harvelle was and even better what kind of father he was but Charles Harvelle was her daddy, and he was always going to be.

“Whoa, okay. What was that for? … Did you max out another credit card? Jessica you know I'm not actually a human AT –,” Jessica cut her dad off from the usual rant by shaking her head and holding him tighter, “Hey, hey Jess come on. What's wrong? I'm late for a meeting, I have to be out of here in ten. Sweetheart, can it wait until tomorrow? We'll do lunch?”

Pulling back from the hug she saw no point in holding back the tears in her eyes as she nodded.

“I love you Daddy,” she was pretty sure right then was the first time her dad had ever really looked at her and saw her.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he said slowly as if this were some sort of test or game. As if raising his voice louder than necessary would completely shatter his daughter who he had never seen as vulnerable into a thousand little pieces.

“Thank you,” she said softly before looking into her dad's eyes and telling him what she'd been rehearsing in her head for weeks now, “Daddy, I'm going away for a while. You and mom thought I was getting out of control. Acting weird. It might have been drugs, but you decided to send me away to get help. You're just trying to do what's best for me and while you will miss me, you know you did the right thing. You won't try to call or write because you can't. You'll just miss me, think about me sometimes but you'll be okay. So will mom,” she took a shaky breath through her tears, “And Daddy, you're going to send Lua some things. From me. Don't say they're from you because she won't accept them and I'm not gonna tell you to be a better man because you are who you are, but I do hope that one day you can be better than that,” taking a step back she finished her compulsion and quickly wiped away the tears.

“Remember your brief case Daddy,” she smiled while he gave her a somewhat dazed look before patting her head, grabbing his stuff and exiting the household.

Thirty seconds.

Making her way into the downstairs bathroom Jess took a few good deep breaths – unnecessary maybe but they still helped. Must have been a psychological thing. Maybe she'd grow out of it one day, if she lived to one day. Unwrapping her hair from the now ruined towel she checked her handiwork in the mirror. Huh. It wasn't bad, and it was definitely different which had been all she'd wanted.

Maybe now she'd be able to gauge whether or not blonde vampires had more fun.

The colour would probably die down after a few washes but it would do for now. And she could introduce herself as Jennifer – she already had the ID not that she'd need it. She was either going to get better or she wouldn't but she couldn't stay in this transitory phase around people she knew and loved because call it stupid or selfish but hurting a stranger seemed better than hurting someone she'd known all her life.

And maybe if it got bad enough – if the guilt was crippling enough – she'd just do it herself.

Stakes were wood and how hard was that to come across?

Jess used to watch her mom put on her makeup in this bathroom when she was a little girl. Her mom was so beautiful, she'd just be transfixed by the whole process. Taking one last breath Jessica made her way back upstairs and found herself standing outside of her mom's room. Staring at the door she almost didn't knock, but she did. There was no turning back now. Pushing it opened she couldn't help the small smile that crept on her face at the sight of her mother hair up, face cream on, silk robe tied while reading the latest Cosmo.

“Jessica...?”

Yeah, it had been a long time since Jess had walked into her mom's room.

“Hey mom.”

“What have you done to your hair?”

That she should have expected. Jessica didn't know why but she just burst out laughing and crying at the same time. If her mom hadn't thought her a crazy person before, she probably did now but she did something she also hadn't done in a long time. Victoria Harvelle wrapped her arms around her daughter and stroked her hair like she used to when she was little and just had a really bad nightmare. Which of course only made Jess cry harder.

“Sh, sh honey come on. It's not that bad. We can book you into the salon first thing tomorrow and get it all sorted okay? You don't have to go to school. I'll call in and say you've got the flu. It's okay,” her mom was so ridiculous. This really sucked.

“T-Thank you mommy,” she said softly forcing herself to calm down. Forcing herself not to fall at the last hurdle.

“Thank you for- for everything,” she said pulling back a little, now looking into her mom's eyes which looked so much like Jessica's, “I love you. Please know that I love you. But I have to go away. You and dad decided it was best. You sent me somewhere to get help but you're too proud to let people know so you're just going to say you sent me away to my grandparents' place, okay? But you did the right thing. And I'm going to be okay because you are giving me my best shot. You're going to miss me but this is for the best. I love you so much mom. I know I don't act like it and I know I don't tell you but I do,” she held her mom close again, “I really do.”

There was a long moment of hesitance where Jessica almost lost it. Almost gave in and stayed.

But she didn't.

Walking away from her mom she was back in her room. Then the next thing she knew she was outside tossing her bags into her car and turning the envelopes over and over in her hands. She could do this. And she could do it fast.

She delivered Corey's first, noticing the mended cat chimes and almost laughing.

Next was Ruby's. She wanted to do it fast knowing ever second she spent lingering would be a second she almost stayed. Ruby, Ruby, Ruby McReid. Her best friend. Her sister. Her– Hunter.

It felt like letting go off a part of herself posting that letter. But Jess told herself it wasn't. That there was always a chance she could come back. There was a chance. Only no matter how many times she thought it, she knew she didn't believe it.

This was goodbye, and it was goodbye for good.

Sitting in the front seat of her car she took one last look at Jessica Harvelle in the mirror.