Imagine [UNEDITED, ON HOLD]

Chapter 8: Jade

"What do you want, and how did you get my number?" I growled into the phone.
"Hello to you, too," my dad replied.
"What. Do. You. Want."
"To talk to you of course," he said sweetly.
"Why?"
"You're my daughter," he said innocently.
"No." I kept my voice quiet so I wouldn't draw attention to myself. I sat in the studio, where the girls and I were finishing a couple tracks.
"C'mon, Jadey--"
"--don't call me that," I snapped, my voice finally rising. "The only people who can call me anything except Jade are my friends and my family. You are in neither of those categories."
"Ouch."
"It's the truth. And it's the truth you brought on yourself," I reminded him. I had an audience now, the three girls watching me in complete shock.
"Jade, I honestly do care about you. That's why I've decided to stop drinking when you're around, if you'll see me again, that is," he promised.
"I've heard that before," I said icily. "And then what happened? Or were you too drunk to remember that too? And by the way, I broke the promise I made to you when I was a kid. You know, the one about not drinking before I was eighteen and all that."
"What?" He sounded disappointed.
"You're actually surprised? What the hell is wrong with you? Knowing a shit guy like you would drive any teenager to the point of getting drunk." I rolled my eyes and folded my arms, leaning against the wall.
"I hope it wasn't too many times," he said.
"Every goddamned day."
"Oh. How can I help you? Are you still an alcoholic?" he asked, like he genuinely cared.
"Are you delusional? I was never an alcoholic. That was you, remember? Just because I drank doesn't mean I was addicted," I informed him. "And you can help me by not phoning."
"How did your mother handle this? How old were you? What happened?" he asked so many questions I wanted to duct tape his mouth shut.
I considered hanging up, but decided I wanted to show him all the damage he did. Granted, not all of it was his doing, but more than enough was.
"I was probably, what, thirteen when I started? There's always a place to get alcohol if you know where to look," I laughed without any humour. "Mam didn't care, obviously. All she did was work. I could've set fire to the house and killed myself and she would've been annoyed at the files that would've been destroyed. You know how you hear the stories of teens getting drunk all night and partying and hooking up with random guys? I was one of them."
"But how did you become Head Girl then?"
"Have you been stalking me?" I gasped. "How do you even know that? And I was Head Girl because much to your surprise, thanks for the vote of confidence, it's possible to be smart and irresponsible, and why am I even still talking to you about anything?"
"Because deep down inside you want to?" he offered up hopefully.
"Yeah, er, no," I decided.
"I heard you tried to kill yourself," he said.
"No, I almost killed myself, but I didn't actually try to," I said. "To be fair, I didn't actually want to die so I'm glad I didn't, but whatever. You heard wrong. Who are you hearing this from anyway?"
"Karl."
"Karl is the most misinformed idiot on the planet," I told him. "When did you start talking to him anyway? He hates you."
"About a week ago. He filled me in on everything your mum told him," my dad said.
"Well, if there's another misinformed idiot on the planet, it's my mam," I sighed.
"Can we get back to you almost killing yourself? How?"
"Overdose on some anti-depressants, no big deal," I shrugged. "I wasn't 100% sober so my math skills kind of sucked when counting pills."
"Drinking is dangerous when you aren't responsible!"
"Yeah, like you're really qualified to lecture me on that," I said, really annoyed.
"What about drugs? Ever taken drugs?"
"Why, are you gonna hook me up with a dealer?" I asked him coldly.
"Jade..."
"No, I don't do drugs. Honestly, who do you think I am?"
"The girl you just described seems like she'd do drugs."
"Ugh." Okay, fair point.
"Your mother said you smelled of smoke when you got home."
"Just because I didn't doesn't mean other people didn't," I reasoned.
"Have you been drinking lately?"
"I'm 21. Of course."
"Responsibly?"
"I'm done with this conversation. I see what you're trying to do, and it isn't working. You will never be a part of my life again, and you will never be anything more than a stranger and a past I wish I never had," I told him.
"Fine," now he was getting louder too. "You wanna know what? I lied to you, I'm drinking right now."
"Of course you are."
"Want to know why?"
"Not really, but I have a funny feeling you're going to tell me anywa--"
"Because I can't stand talking to you sober."
Ouch.
"Okay."
"Hearing you talk makes me think of the young you, and that makes me sad because I realise you were always destined to be a failure," my dad said.
Ouch.
"Okay."
This sorta hurts.
"And you know what?" he continued, his words slurring together even more. "I wish you'd never been born. Or I wish I hadn't stopped at just beating you up, I wish I'd killed you."
Ouch.
"You're getting drunk really fast," I noticed. "Straight vodka, then?"
"From the bottle."
"Wanna get drunk faster? Drink it with ice. Little trick I learned when I was fourteen."
"I don't know why I called you."
"I don't either."
"Because I hate you."
"I hate you, too."
"Do you want to get lunch?"
What the hell?
"No."
"Why?" he pouted, sounding genuinely sad.
"Because you're a terrible person. I don't know how you got my number, but if it was Karl or mam I will flip out so maybe it's best you don't tell me. Anyway. I don't know how you got my number, but don't ever call me or try to contact me again, okay? And don't you dare say 'okay' because this isn't the Fault in Our Stars, and don't even try to get the public thinking you have any relation to me. Stop. Calling," I demanded.
"So are you going to go out and drink now?" he taunted.
"Yeah, maybe I will."
I ended the call angrily and glared at the phone.
"Who was that?" Perrie asked tentatively.
"My dad."
I ignored their surprised looks and stormed out of the room, going to my car. I got to mine and Perrie's flat and dumped my stuff before leaving again. It was already dark, and I headed to a local pub.
I ordered a round of shots and took them all, chasing the burn with some fruit juice. A couple drinks later I was really drunk, at the point where it's dangerous to talk because even if someone asks you about cheese, you'll find some way to start spilling your guts of every single secret you have.
I was thinking logically enough to know I had to get home. I called a cab and shoved myself into the back. As we pulled up, I threw way too many pounds into the front seat.
"This is nearly triple the amount..."
I waved him off. "Nah, forget it...it's fine."
"And thanks for not throwing up in here," he said cheerfully.
I got out of the car and stumbled up to the flat I shared with Perrie. She was sitting on the couch watching a program when I came in. "Jade! I was so worried when you just left, are you okay?"
"Fine," I said shakily. "I need a drink."
All I could focus on was the phone call. It brought back so many terrible thoughts I'd spent years trying to bury.
Just Jade. That was the plan. Well, clearly it wasn't working that well.
I raided the liquor cabinet and found the bottle of vodka. It was a small bottle, just sixteen ounces, but that could get you seriously ill.
I popped the top and took a long drink. I felt Perrie pry the glass bottle out of my hand and set it on the table.
"I think you've had enough to drink," she said.
"I'm really wasted."
"I know. You wanna talk?"
"Whatever."
"So...that was your dad?"
"Yeah."
I'd basically tell her anything, that's how drunk I was. And I figured she knew that and was taking advantage of it.
"And you used to get drunk like this a lot?"
"Yeah."
"What changed?" Perrie's blue eyes softly narrowed in confusion.
"Never had a reason to drink. I always drank with a reason. Yes. That was important. Yes. The day I stopped drinking was the day I shut everything out. Yes. No more feeling, no more drinking," I said. Then, just for a bit of good fun, I added a triumphant, "Yes."
I snatched up the bottle and took another drink, dancing out of Perrie's way as she tried to get it from me. Clearly, I was way more coordinated than she thought at this stage.
Images of my dad's face twisted with hate and clouded with drink filled my head, just making me swallow more of the burning vodka. That was the problem. Drinking made me remember new problems which resulted in more drinking.
"I think that's enough," Perrie said again.
"That's what I tried to tell my dad," I said, letting more alcohol cloud my judgement as I drank more. "And then I got beat up. Again."
Perrie's face looked pained and sad. My face was a mask of vodka, hurt, confusion, and anger. "You know, I was just trying to help," I said. "I just wanted him to stop drinking. I'd tell him to stop and he'd hit me. So I'd stop telling him and then he'd get mad that I didn't and beat me up for that."
"That was wrong," Perrie said evenly. "But drinking more won't help anything."
I narrowed my eyes and took another drink.
"Jade."
Another drink.
"Stop. I'm serious. You want me to ring Leigh and make her haul her ass over here as well?" Perrie asked me.
I threw the bottle at the wall and she jumped as it smashed, the remaining half of the contents spilling out of the glass shards. I was wasted.
Really really wasted.
"Fine. Call her," I hissed. "I don't care."
Perrie called her.
"Goddammit," I groaned. "You just had to call her!"
I went back to the kitchen and found a beer. I popped that open and took a sip, putting it down. I went over to the window and looked at the moon for a bit before remembering that the moon reminded me of the night of my eighth birthday.
I went back for a drink. I lifted the can to my lips, but the taste was off. I frowned at it. I realised it was water.
I threw the can at the wall too. Fucking Perrie had drained the beer and refilled it with water.
"You know, the best thing about the parties is that everyone was drinking. Nobody told you to stop," I said pointedly. "I learned lots about drinking when I was fourteen. That was the best year for that."
"You'll get hurt if you drink any more tonight."
"I already hurt. What's one more day?" I asked. "This is Niall's fault," I decided.
"What?" Perrie looked alarmed and frowned.
"If he hadn't left." I stumble over to the wall and slammed my hand against the brick. "It was the rules," I said mockingly. "His rules were more important than me. Mam's work was more important than me. Dad's drink was more important than me. Karl's school was more important than me."
"Jade, stop." This time it was Leigh-Anne.
"Don't tell me what to do!" I yelled. "I've had enough of that ridiculing shit."
"Call Niall," I heard Perrie whisper.
"Don't you fucking dare call Niall," I growled.
Ten minutes later I heard an Irish voice.
"I called Niall."
"Of course you did."
"Jade, what's goin' on. You started drinking again?" he asked gently.
"What do you care?" I rounded on him and glared into his eyes that were so familiar and warm and comforting. "You and your shit rules are the reasons I was drinking in the first place!"
"They weren't my rules, and I'm sorry--"
"You were supposed to protect me, right? Well, where were you when my head was being bashed in with my dad's fist?" I screamed. "Where were you when my dad was let off without any jail time? Who protected me when he came after me? I did! Because you didn't!"
"I know, I'm sorry."
Through the blur I saw Perrie and Leigh-Anne's faces streaked with tears.
"It hurt so much," I whispered. My voice grew louder. "Not the physical pain, that sucked, but what hurt the most was the fact that you promised you'd be there and then you weren't."
"It hurt me just as much. I saw all those things. I have a journal of them, you wanna read?"
"Are you insane? Maybe that time in the psych ward was for a reason! You want me to read about my child and teenage years? Why would I want to do that?" I demanded.
"I don't know, I thought it might help you? Jade, I'm trying, okay? I am, but I don't know what to do!" he said.
"Yeah, well, neither do I," I said coldly. "That's nothing new."
"I saw the bad, but also the good things," Niall said randomly. "I saw my beautiful Jade singing Pocahontas."
My head snapped up. "I was thirteen. It was a cold night. After, mam gave me flowers. Dad took me out for ice cream." I started reciting all the facts of that night I could remember.
"You were wearing white converse," Niall said softly.
"You saw all that?"
"I saw your school musicals, too," he continued. "I saw you singing along to the radio while speeding down an empty dirt road. I saw you happy."
"I was never happy," I said hoarsely, my voice rough from the yelling.
"Yes, you were. It was small pockets of it, maybe only a few seconds, but you were happy," he promised.
It was silent before I felt tears coming. "What did I do wrong?" I burst out. I sank to the floor and put my head in my hands. I brushed furiously at my eyes, but my eyes just filled up even more.
"Jade..."
"What did I do? I partied a lot, but I wasn't a bad daughter! I got good marks, I was Head Girl, I remembered mam's birthday more than she remembered mine," I said.
"I know," Niall whispered, sitting next to me.
"I tried to make my dad happy but everything I did was wrong. I was always wrong. I was never good enough for him, not even now. I just want to be okay," I said, my tears pillowing my harsh words. "I always wondered what I did wrong. When I was lying covered in my own blood, or watching him drink till he didn't mind hurting me, I always wondered."
"You didn't do anything wrong, Jade," Niall assured me.
"How do you know?"
"Because when I look at you, sitting like this, tears on your cheeks, I see a little girl sitting on her staircase while her parents fight. And she's sad. And she wants a friend. And so I appear. Just like I'm appearing now," he says softly. "And I see a little girl who stays up waiting for her dad because she loves him so much. And I see a little girl crying herself to sleep because her father didn't come for her the day he promised."
"And?"
"And she's innocent. Just a little kid who doesn't know better. She tries so hard, but her idiot father doesn't realise. You were just a kid. Just a kid."
I leaned my head on his shoulder, the alcohol making me sleepy. "I love you, Niall."
"I love you more."
"I love you most."
"Not possible," he whispered.