Joey didn't speak to me for the rest of the week. The closest he came was inaudible grumblings as we drove to Rigby on Thursday night. Joey had to go; he had agreed to play with Matt, Jess, and Michael. I anticipated the murmurs. Matt tried to maintain his upbeat self, but even he was cracking from the days-long tension between Joey and me.

"Maybe you should apologize," Matt whispered as we entered the front door to avoid all the people downstairs.

"Me? What did I do wrong?"

Matt just gave me a look.

"He's the one that threw a tantrum," I reminded him.

"He's worried about you." It was hard to get frustrated with Matt's open face.

"It's more than worry," I reminded him.

"Yes, there's some jealousy, but he's mostly worried about you. Honestly, I'm a little worried, too. I mean, Jess is great, and Michael is chill, but Jacob... I don't know Riley; he's off."

"Off?"

"Oh, come on. Don't act like the guy is a saint. He was a dick to Joey that first night for no reason, and he's an asshole to you just as much as he's not. He seems like..." Matt's words dropped out.

"Stop, Matt. I'm already mad at Joey. I can't be mad at you both at the same time."

Matt's warm gaze flowed over me before he let out a sigh. "Fine, but promise me you'll be careful."

"I'm always careful." I jabbed his ribs with my elbow as we entered the living room.

"There they are!" Jess beamed as Matt, Joey, and I joined him and Michael in the living room. "Tonight is going to be epic. We're going to get so laid."

"Like you've ever had a problem getting laid," Michael muttered, almost to himself, but I couldn't stifle my laughter.

"Yeah, but there's regular laid, and then rock star laid," Jess smiled.

"I'm here, and I don't want to hear any more of this," I announced, throwing my hands up and flopping to the loveseat.

Joey focused on tuning his guitar and didn't notice everyone settling into seats around the room. When he looked up, it was quickly apparent that the only spot open was on the loveseat with me. I swear I saw a stifled smile on Matt's face as Joey begrudgingly sat beside me.

"So, if there's a mass of people downstairs partying their faces off, why are you always up here playing video games?" I asked Jess.

He shrugged before offering, "parties don't get good until after midnight."

"That sounds exhausting," I mumbled.

"Honestly, the parties just happen now. We have people that deal with it down there. Obviously, Jacob is over it; I guess maybe I'm maturing as well." Jess added a nod.

"You're not maturing," Michael shot at him.

The boys devolved into their usual banter while playing video games while Joey tuned his guitar.

"Hey," I shyly whispered.

Joey's eyes flickered to mine to confirm I was talking to him.

"Hey," he whispered back.

"I'm sorry," I offered.

"What are you sorry for?"

"That you feel like I'm picking Jacob over you."

"Do I feel like that, or is that what's happening?" There wasn't any anger in his voice; it was an actual question.

"I don't know how I feel about Jacob, but I know I don't want to lose you."

"But you also don't want to be with me?" There was a hollow sadness to his question.

"I'm sorry, Joey. I just don't feel that way." I wanted to continue. I wanted to tell him that I wanted to want him. It'd be so much easier.

"And if not being with me, if choosing whatever might happen with Jacob, means you lose me?" Again, it wasn't a threat; it was a simple question.

"Don't make me choose between my friendship with you and Jacob."

"What's it with you and that guy? He's not even nice." The frustration seeped into his tone.

"He can be," I sighed.

"You deserve better than 'can be.' If you... if that continues..." he slightly shook his head. "I can't just be here watching him pull you into this atrophy."

"Atrophy?" I wanted to be offended, but the word described Rigby so well that I couldn't muster the emotion.

"This place; it'll swallow you." He let out a breath as he scanned my face before adding, "just be careful. I don't want to lose you to this place, to him."

I gave Joey a weak smile. I didn't want to lose him, but I could feel us pulling apart. I sat back on the couch and looked over the faces in the living room: Matt, the familiar warmth of my childhood; Jess, the embodiment of indulgence; Michael, a reserved mix of regret and youth; and Joey, the face of hope. Then my mind slipped to Jacob. He almost embodied them all, Matt's innocence, Jess' indulgence, and Michael's regret, but he didn't have the hope of Joey. Jacob had given up.

"Are you going to go see him?" Joey murmured from beside me.

"No. He knows I'm here. He can come out of his hiding spot if he wants to see me." I gave a curt nod more to confirm my resolve to myself, but Joey mirrored me with a nod of his own.

I followed the boys downstairs and settled on the couch alone. There seemed to be some unspoken rule that the couch was reserved for the Rigby dwellers, but I didn't see a sign. I half expected someone to come along and tell me I needed to move; instead, someone came along and slumped down next to me.

"Hello," washed over me in a velvety wave.

"Hello, Jacob," I nodded as I kept my eyes on the stage while the boys did some final setup.

"Were you going to come to say hello?"

"No, I wasn't. I figured you'd come down if you were interested in seeing me."

"I have upset you again," he surmised from my tone and lack of eye contact.

"Do you care?"

"I do." As he spoke, a hand lifted and hovered over my knee before he thought better of the gesture and pulled the hand back.

"I don't understand you. You're gentle and almost kind in one moment, and then in the next, you're callous and belittling."

"I am." He gave a slight nod before sipping from his drink.

"And you drink too much."

"I also heavily smoke; how long do I have until that is brought up?"

"Ten, fifteen seconds, tops."

"I suppose I shouldn't mention the pills," he coolly spoke as he lifted his glass again.

"Are there any vices you don't have?"

Without hesitation, he murmured, "sloth."

"Great, scotch and pills to excess with little sleep; sounds like a recipe for disaster."

"Mmhmm, I have the four overdoses to prove it."

My stomach knotted. Jacob had just admitted almost dying four times in the same tone he had joked about his cigarettes. I glared at the side of his face as he took another sip of his drink. His eyes stayed trained on the stage before him. Anger at how heartless he was about his own life and its impact on those around him surged through me, propelling me from the couch. As I passed, his eyes widened, and his knuckles grew white from his tight grip on his glass.

"I need to get through," I spat at the security man. I mentally cursed myself for not remembering his name.

"I'm sorry. This is a private exit." His tone disregarded me as quickly as his words.

"She is always allowed to use this exit and any other exit she would like," Jacob spoke from behind me.

"Sorry, of course." The man nodded as he opened the door, allowing me to charge through.

"Thank you, Chris," Jacob evenly said. "Her name is Riley. She is typically quite sweet." I heard him murmur behind me. It was frighteningly similar to the apologies Matt used to make for me when I was particularly acidic in high school.

I charged up the stairs and burst into his room as though it were my own. I glanced at the loveseat, but knew there was too much bile coursing through me to sit.

"What would you like?" Jacob calmly said from the doorway.

"I'd like you to explain yourself." I met his gaze as I spoke.

"My name is Jacob Rigby. My family owns one of the largest hotel chains in the world. I am twenty-three years old. I have an older brother, Jeremiah, but he goes by Jess..."

"Those are just facts. They don't explain you."

"I am afraid I don't understand the question."

"You've overdosed four times and joke about it. Imagine what that has done to your family, your friends."

"I've been struggling for years. Jess likes to blame the accident, but I spiraled long before that."

"How long before that?"

"My first overdose occurred when I was seventeen; it was two years before the accident." Something detached him from the words as he spoke.

"The car accident with Michael's brother?"

"Yes, Ethan. He was my best friend."

"They were accidents; the overdoses?"

"Two were accidents; two were intentional." Jacob stepped closer to me, but only so he could close his door.

"Why would you want to kill yourself?" I said in disbelief.

"Riley, I've told you; I am not broken or lost. I am as near to a ghost as you can get with a beating heart."

"But how could you do that to your family, your friends?"

"We have had very different lives. I have no family except Jess."

"Jess has mentioned your father."

"My father is a careless person who never cared for me."

"Your mother?"

"Died of breast cancer when I was three," he emotionlessly spoke.

"Friends?" I pressed. "What about Michael?"

"Michael has been the best friend I have had in a long time. I suppose he would be like my Matt or Joey."

"But you don't care if you hurt him or Jess. I'd never choose to leave Matt and Joey."

"What you three have is special. Not all of us have friendships like that." Jacob faltered and looked at me for a moment. "Do you..." He paused to order his thoughts. "If you want to leave, I understand." He stepped from the door so that he wouldn't impede my departure.

I passed by him and let my hand grip the doorknob, but paused and extended a hand to him as I added, "I don't believe you're the person you think you are."

"And if you are wrong?" He asked as he let his eyes flicker to my hand.

"I'm willing to risk it. You told me you don't want to upset me..."

"I did, and I meant it." He nodded.

"Don't die."

He gave a curt nod and took my hand, immediately letting it melt into mine.