Bradley 5

Epilogue

Once more, Jamie climbed the stairs to the apartment, grasping the flimsy aluminum railing and feeling some of the peeling pink paint chip off in her fingers. This time though, unlike the countless other occasions Jamie had ascended this staircase, she went with a heavy heart, for more than just the obvious reasons.

She went up another stair, her legs trailing, as though they understood her reluctance to face the confrontation that undoubtedly lay ahead. A palpable aura of foreboding hung around the place, intensifying as she crossed the walkway to the apartment.

The door was open, but the screen door inhibited any view of its interior. Jamie leaned against the wall next to the door, feeling the stucco dig into her back through the thin fabric of her black dress, which still carried the evidence of last night's activities. After a moment's reprieve, she steeled herself against what was about to happen.

Jamie opened the screen door and stepped inside.

The apartment was dark. Thin strands of light crept in through mostly shut blinds, amidst which miniature cyclones of dust swirled during their long descent to the shaggy carpet. A mournful song echoed eerily throughout the empty apartment, its haunting melody and crooning vocals revealing, as Jamie stood in the deserted living room, that it was Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah." A favorite of Dorian's, though he'd often remarked upon how depressingly beautiful it was.

She followed the source of the music slowly, while Buckley whispered,

"Baby I've been here before

I've seen this room and I've walked this floor

I used to live alone before I knew you."

She passed through the living room all too quickly. At the end of the room, the walls parted, opening up to the porch, where Dorian Rhodes sat in one of the two plastic Adirondack chairs, silhouetted against the ocean's backdrop by the setting sun. His dinner jacket had been flung over the opposing chair and a half-empty bottle of rum and an upturned shot glass rested on the table between the two chairs.

Despite her silent approach, he said softly, his tone accusatory, "I wondered when you'd show up."

"Dorian, I'm so sorry—" Jamie began, but his raised hand, stopping her. Dorian stood up and turned to face her. His bloodstained tuxedo shirt hung unbuttoned, revealing the slim musculature beneath. His hair mussed and his face ashen, he stared past her, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"Don't apologize to me. I'd say the person you need to apologize to is Ricky, but I suppose that's not possible anymore."

"Dorian, I had no idea this was going to happen."

"But you still sent Ricky out to get you your stuff. You let them do your dirty work, so your hands could stay clean."

"You know what my parents would've done," she started, but Dorian cut her off again. He turned his head to look directly at her for the first time since she'd arrived. What she saw in those eyes broke her heart. The green eyes that had once been so inundated with wonderment and innocence now burned dark with an accusatory hatred so strong that Jenny had to look away.

"God forbid," he spat. "God forbid your parents find out that every notion they have about you is false. Underneath that glitzy, glamorous shell is a core of ignorance and selfishness.

"Just like this town. This state even." His speech was becoming more animated as his tirade intensified. "Take your parents: both of them are quite aware that the other's screwing around behind their back, but they're content to stay together as long as your mom keeps her mouth shut and looks good on his arm and your daddy keeps writing hundred thousand dollar checks at breakfast. Mr. Grey, that corrupt bastard at the law firm. His entire firm is a mockery of the justice system, selling its integrity to the highest bidder. Don't even get me started on Radar and Sonar and the rest of your little circus with their hundred thousand dollar cars and coke addictions.

"You're all absurd. None of you have any regard for the people around you. Christ, Tom and Daisy Buchanan have nothing on you people!"

Jamie stepped closer and attempted to brush her hand across his stubble-strewn cheek, but Dorian batted it away.

"You know, we came out here to find ourselves, to discover who we were as people. Instead we found nothing but our own destruction. Todd and Lily divorced almost as fast as they married, and they'll never speak again. I thought I'd found someone special, but that turned out to be nothing but a kid's naive fantasies. And Ricky found death."

Dorian turned around to face the setting sun and leaned heavily on the balcony railing.

Jamie stood, shocked into silence. After hearing Dorian speak, she felt crushed. How could she still tell him, after everything he'd said? Tears began to slide silently down her cheeks, partly from anger, but more from hurt than anything else. Dorian's words had hit close to her heart, mostly because she recognized the truth in everything he'd said.

"Is there something else?" he muttered softly, his voice still laced with scorn.

"I," Jamie began, but she choked on the words, when she started again, it was not 'love you' that she finished with. "I wish things could have been different." She shook her head and turned away, leaving quietly just as Buckley murmured one last "hallelujah."

Dorian never turned around.

The next morning, she saw him pack up his apartment. Right before he left he looked up at her, starting blankly. She offered him a weak smile and a little wave, but he turned away and left, driving up the hill into the hazy brightness of the rising sun.

The End