Don't you know that misery loves company?

Walk over to the closet. Choose clothing. Shower. Dress. Comb hair. It had been the same since the beginning of time, and so Vito could do all this without giving it much thought at all- no, instead of thinking about what he was doing, his mind was busy running over the events of the previous week or so. How had so much happened in such a short amount of time? Vito sure loved causing destruction and chaos, but how on earth had he been mixed in with it all? Apparently he hadn’t taken the necessary precautions to make sure that the stakes weren’t too high when he was playing his games. The thing that amused him- and irritated him- was that, it seemed, whenever his plans backfired, Jack was involved somehow. Vito pulled a little too tight on his tie as he pulled it around his neck and winced, massaging the skin there as he stared into the mirror in front of him.

Vito probably spent half of his life in front of a mirror- that realization made him smirk and shake his head out of amusement; well, at least he still had his looks, even if he had to put quite a bit of effort into making sure that he continued appearing human. When he was satisfied with the person looking back at him in the mirror, Vito turned away from it and sat down on the end of his bed, pulling his shoes on.

There was momentary silence- something that was very, very rare when you lived on the second floor of a popular club- and Vito couldn’t help but feel as if something were missing because of it; he ate to the sound of that loud music, drank to it, fell asleep to it, but he never woke up to it, and it threw him off every morning. Even after twenty-something years of it.

Vito stopped for a moment and leaned back on his arms; How long had he really been alive? He wasn’t sure, he had stopped attempting to count after loosing track twice, and though he appeared to be in his twenties, he honestly had no clue how long he had been walking the earth. Did it matter? No, not really because his appearance didn’t suffer from it- so why the sudden curiosity? Vito wasn’t sure himself, but he figured that any random thoughts that didn’t have something to do with Jack Dyllan were enjoyable thoughts.

Aaaaand there she was again, intruding in his mind when he least wanted her there. She was like some sort of bug buzzing around his head that just wouldn’t land long enough for Vito to smash it.

He stood when he felt as if he had already spent too much time thinking to himself in the silence and made his way over to the door- perhaps a good breakfast and a glass of wine would be enjoyable enough to put him in a good mood. Vito smirked; he doubted it, the last time he had been in a pleasant mood had been weeks ago. He reached forward to wrap his fingers around the brass doorknob when someone knocked their fist several times against the wood of the door. Vito rolled his eyes and yanked the door open.

There was that bug again. “Pay up,” he ordered simply, holding out his hand; she owed him for the room she had slept in.

The door opened and Vito seemed to have figured out that it was going to be her, because there was that special look of irritation that she liked to think was reserved for her. Vito and Jack shared that particular characteristic; they loved to push the other one's buttons and get on their nerves.

She rolled her eyes and pulled the coins out of her pocket, counting them real before shoving them into his hands, looking up at him. "Always business with you," she said teasingly, eyes flashing with the joke. How long had it been since she had joked with Vito like old times? Before she had found out his secrets, before he had killed her friend's family, before she had seen him break down, before he had tried to kill her, before she had broken down? She did not know, but she had to say...

It was good to have that back.

She slipped her hands into her pockets and looked up at him, her face a little more serious than before. "I need to tell you something," she said, in her level voice she used when she knew there was the possibility of pissing him off to an extent she did not want to reach. "Not about yesterday, I remember what happened, I don't need to review that..." She shook her head, looking slightly ashamed of herself, before pulling herself back together. She knew that the night before would be a touchy subject for Vito, because so many boundaries had been crossed. "No, I figured something out and I need to...fill you in."

“Ugh- Jack, why don’t you have an ‘off’ switch?” Vito asked with a groan, rolling his dark eyes. He dropped the money into his pocket, fallowed by his hands, slipping them into the deep pockets of his dark colored slacks as he always did; like running his hand through his hair, having his hands in his pockets had really become a habit of his over time. Vito looked at Jack for a moment, but only a moment, before walking around her and starting down the steps.

Did he expect her to fallow him? Yes. Why? Because Jack always fallowed Vito when he walked away. It was just how things worked.

Vito slowly made his way down the spiral staircase and onto the first floor of the place, his shoes making a soft clicking noise against the hardwood floors with each step he took. The place was empty- save the drunks that had passed out on the floor –and the maids had already begun cleaning up the mess that the party goers had left behind. Vito had made it very clear when they had applied for the position that by the time he walked down those steps that the cleaning was at least to be half-finished, and they had fallowed that rule ever since. He stopped when he reached the bar and sat down on one of the barstools, resting his elbows against the table and his chin atop his knuckles.

The poltergeist dug a slender piece of wood out of his jacket pocket and held it loosely in-between his fingers, waving it this way and that as incantations fell from his full lips. Vito didn’t like using magic often, but when he really didn’t feel like doing things himself, he really was glad that he had the option to cast a spell or two and have everything done for him. Who would have known that attending Hogwarts classes to torture his creator would have benefitted him later on? Vito smirked, well, he had known that of course, but other than him, who knew?

He watched as his drink poured itself, "Turns out we dont even need a bartender," he spoke to himself, his voice expressing his amusment.

Jack rolled her eyes and followed after him, knowing full well this would not enrage him because, by now, he had to expect it. C'mon, when had she not followed him? She jogged down the stairs alongside him and glanced up at him edgily, wondering exactly how she was going to say what she had to say.

She was honestly freaked out to have to admit everything. These were things she had avoided letting herself dwell on or believe to be true, but she knew now, especially after the night before, that they were words that needed to be said, despite her feelings of embarrassment and shame and guilt and it all.

Guilt.

What would Chase and Andrew say if they saw her here? After she had apologized ans assured them that she would not be seeking the company of Vito any time soon. And here she was, tailing him downstairs. But would they ever understand? They did not know their full story and they never would; Jack's promises kept her from that.

She sighed. She would kill herself and never say what she needed to say if she did not soon. So before they even reached the bottom floor she began.

"Y'know...After that day in London, after I took Chase to St. Mungo's and we parted ways..." She did not look at him. She did not want to see the look he made when she said Chase. Hate would anger her, amusement would sicken her, nothing would hollow her. It was a lose-lose situation. "Two days later I met up with Chase. I..." She trailed off, almost ashamed at the next words, but she continued on with strength. "I was apologizing, telling her I had obviously been wrong about you. I thought I had been and it was killing me, but I needed to let her know. Not because I wanted to, but I knew it was something that had to be done."

It was true. It had sickened her and terrified her to face Chase. Had she had her way, she would have moved to Ecuador or somewhere to start over. "And she was upset at first and I told her I had thought that I could help you somehow- don't worry," she interjected. "I didn't tell her anything specific. Just that. That I thought I could help."

She shivered to herself. She had hoped maybe they could sit somewhere or something, but now that she had begun, there was no stopping her tongue. "She felt bad for me, pitied me for thinking so, and started apologizing to me and... I was already so mad at myself for endangering her, and then she was not mad and that made me...mad at her. I was mad at myself, so why wasn't she?"

She stopped and glanced over at Vito. With a sigh, she stepped in front of him. She needed to look at him when she said all of this. "I wanted her to hate me because I hated myself," she said in a low whisper. She stared at him, her eyes boring into his as she tried to convey the importance behind these words. "And then I thought of how you were always so angry that I did not hate you."

She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. "You keep asking me why I care so much, why I try so hard." She opened her eyes and they met his. "It's because I am just like you, Vito. I know what it's like." She felt her head with her hand and winced. "Now I really know what it is like." She nodded. "I hate myself. So I want everyone else to hate me." Her eyes were full of a question that was not really a question... Because she knew the answer. They plainly said You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you?

Vito’s expression of amusement was replaced with one of shock and anger. For a moment, he simply stared at Jack, breathing in slowly. His brain, it was going to crumble to pieces, he was sure of it- but how did someone prevent such a thing? He really could to nothing to stop it from happening.

Vito’s arm slipped from out of underneath his chin and he slammed his fist down on the table without him intending on doing so, “Stay out of my head. You got lucky last night Jack, I told you more than I’d ever planned to- but your walking along a thin line, and I’m sure you know that,” he replied sharply, his words leaping off of his tongue at an irregularly fast pace; usually he kept his words slow and his voice quiet, but for some reason, those words couldn’t have escaped his mouth quick enough.

He was angry, shocked, amused, irritated, and confused all at once, and he really couldn’t handle it when his thoughts were added on to that pile of jumbled emotions. He folded his hands and looked away from Jack, digging his fingers into the skin above his knuckles in a futile attempt to defuse the bombs that had been lit inside his brain- desperate to keep them from exploding.

Vito didn’t want to have to clean up the mess, which would probably be his reputation, his pride, and his own blood if he ended up punching another wall… he really did have to make sure that his fist actually collided with Jack’s skull the next time he attempted such a thing, because he was running out of fingers to break.

"You keep asking me why I care so much, why I try so hard." She opened her eyes and they met his. "It's because I am just like you, Vito. I know what it's like." She felt her head with her hand and winced. "Now I really know what it is like." She nodded. "I hate myself. So I want everyone else to hate me."

Her words would not stop playing over and over again in his ears like a scratched CD and it was causing him to fidget in his seat. “I don’t hate myself, Jack, you of all people should know that,” he sneered- but was he wasn’t even sure if those words were honest.

“I was created by hate, and because of that I constantly feel this hatred burning inside of me that I can only ever relieve myself of when I inflict pain on others- make them hate too. Do you know what that’s like!? It makes me feel like ripping my brain out of my skull. I enjoy hurting people, taking there lives away, and murdering others because it benefits me." Vito scowled; those words hadn't left his lips, but he remembered having wanted so badly to shout them into Chase Moor's ears until they began to bleed.

Vito rubbed his temples in slow circular motions; he was pondering it, considering it, thinking about Jack's words. Stop, she's pushed you over the edge once, don’t let her do it again. Don't. But what the person who was shouting such things at him inside of his mind didn't seem to understand was that everything was easier said than done. Especially when Jack Dyllan had a say in the matter.

Jack flinched as he slammed his fist on the table but she kept her strong expression fixed on her face. The fact that he had reacted gave her the answer that she had never needed to hear in the first place. She stared back at him, and realized with a jolt...

There was no more weakness in her expression. Her chin was not trembling, her eyebrows were not worried. The bags under her eyes were from lack of sleep and the hang over, but she was back...to an extent. The mask was back on, though it was slipping into the expression she usually saved for Vito; a stubborn defiance mixed with a knowing look. She stared at him for a moment.

When he said that he did not hate himself, it was his eyes that gave him away. He was mad that she knew, scared that she would tell, amused that she had figured that out. She had thrown him a curve ball and though it put a lot at stake, Vito loved the game so much that he could not help but enjoy the challenge.

She sat at the barstool next to him, having realized she was still standing and she shook her head. In a low voice she said, "I'm not talking about last night. And we both very well know that that line is in ashes. You told me I don't trust people and I needed to accept that. You were straightforward then, as I am now." She turned her head back to him, a look of true, earnest understanding and question on her face. "Aren't you tired of pretending? I am."

She almost said it as though she could not believe that he could not be. She knew that Vito operated under an act, that he was faking his way; she was doing the same thing. Except in times like these, where she was with him, having to face the facts. She was tired of it; she was sick of pretending. She knew he had to be too.

The fuse burned down further. “So let me get this straight, you realize that you are just a little clone of me, and so you feel that this information just has to be shared with me- oh, and then because you have been fooling everyone that your actually this ‘Jack’ girl and your tired of fooling everyone, that for some reason I feel the same? Darling, I must ask, did you get into my wine that I left in your room before you got out of bed?”

Burning… Vito rolled his dark eyes and smirked- oh yes, fake it because fake is wonderful. The flame had nearly burned the fuse down to the bomb, and it would only be seconds before the orange tongue of fire had a taste of gunpowder and the whole thing blew up.

Vito crossed his arms on the table and rested against them once more. His drink had been served to him, but he didn’t take a drink of it yet, instead he gazed at the dark red drink and felt his mouth water when he thought of the taste- all to distract him form his thoughts. Oh yes, Vito was very good at playing mind games, especially when he wanted to play them with his own head.

“Jack may be a fake, and you may have only just noticed this, but I’ve been staring into the eyes of a redhead who certainly isn't ‘Jaquellene’ since the day I learned your name,” Vito told her, finally bringing the glass of wine to his lips when his thirst for the alcohol grew too strong. “Now tell me Jack, who do you see when you look at me?” he asked her with that lying smirk still to be seen on his face.

He swallowed a mouthful of his drink and moved the glass around in a circular motion with his fingers slowly, swirling the red liquid inside of it. It sure did look a hell of a lot like blood, and the thought amused him and frustrated him slightly- for what reason, he wasn’t sure, because the fuse was still burning down…

…until it had reached its end. There was a moment of silence before it happened, and Vito could almost feel himself squinting as if to prepare for the impact of the explosion.

Jack stared at Vito, trying to keep her face passive but she could not believe it. She knew that this information had to mean something more than Vito was making it to be. It was not every day that one came to such a realization and Vito was playing it off like it were a partially-amusing joke, as though he could just lightly chuckle it off.

She stared at him, feeling her hands begin to shake. She balled them into fists and thrust d them under the counter and onto her knees as she turned to face forward, trying to concentrate, but her vision kept slipping in and out of focus in frustration.

She was not sure she understood his next statement; damn his need to be dramatic and mysterious all the time. It just complicated things. If there was anything she hated more than no answer, it was half an answer. She shot him an angry, confused look, as though to say Just say what you need to, damn you!

At his question she paused her musings and narrowed her eyes on his eyes. Something was going on. His smirk definitely did not match his eyes. She turned in her seat so she was facing him and her eyes focused on his, hoping to make him feel a little uncomfortable, the way he could sometimes do to her. Making you feel exposed...transparent.

She said in a slow voice, "I see a liar." She let that sink in as she continued to search his eyes and face. "I see an actor.... I see a shrew. I see..." She flicked an eyebrow, knowing she was now entering dangerous waters. She continued on in a slower, softer voice, "A scared, broken man, not sure what is going to happen to him, so he has to resort to trying to bring the only person who ever bothered to try to care down to his level, and now that he has, he is ever more terrified, because who is going to pull him up now?"

She nodded. "Yep... That's the 'Vito' I know."

“Yeah, there you go, looks like you’ve got everything figured out,” Vito replied sarcastically, but his glass had slipped out of his hand and landed back down on the bar loudly when his fingers had begun twitching and he had lost his grip on the glass, giving him away. “I see a liar. I see an actor. I see a shrew” It didn’t shatter, but he rather wished it had; at least then he would be able to use that as an excuse to get up and leave Jack for a moment to collect himself- but there were some days when Vito was a very unlucky person, and it just so happened that it was one of those days. “If I’m such a liar what makes you believe you can trust what you know about me?” Vito replied in a low grumble. He turned in his chair to face Jack as she had done to him and looked her straight in the eyes, narrowing his instinctively; it seemed whenever he looked her in the eyes directly, he put on that mask of his that hid his thoughts, and filled in the blanks with threats.“I see a liar. I see an actor. I see a shrew”

Sorry for the wait folks, the explosion was momentarily delayed but now things are going to continue according to plan. Thank you for your patients.

… Boom.

Vito ran a hand through his hair roughly, running his fingernails across the skin of his skull as he did so, raking the dark brown hair atop his head back so that not a single strand hung in his face. “I see a liar. I see an actor. I see a shrew” He parted his lips slowly, as if he were thinking hard about the words that were next to come out of his mouth, and spoke, “Tell me Jack- you know, I should call you by another name since you aren’t really ‘Jack’ anymore- tell me redhead, you’ve felt pure hatred in you before at least once, right? That burning feeling- almost feels like a flame inside your chest? It hurts after a while, doesn’t it? The bones of your ribcage get a bit too toasty and your heart starts to burn. You can feel your expression change without your permission into one of- well, what else- hatred… and when you look at someone while you’ve got that feeling inside of you, it doesn’t matter who they are, you just want to rip them to pieces…”

There was a darkness in Vito’s eyes, as if he were recalling a bad memory and he could picture everything right there before him, but he continued on, “I don’t kill because I hate myself, I kill because of hate… just hate, nothing more. It fuels me, pushes me forwards even if I don’t feel like getting blood on my suit. So, that means you were wrong about that- now, lets see, what else could I tell you the truth about in order to crush whatever hope you have left in you?”

Vito was sitting there, staring back at Jack as he spoke, but there was something about him that seemed to have momentarily changed - not a change in his expression or any physical difference, really, but something else that you just couldn’t put your finger on, but knew that it had happened. It was almost as if the Vito that had helped Jack the evening before and had told her that he actually did care whether or not she died, had stepped out of Vito’s body to take a break and what was left of him was the poltergeist who had been created by the pure hatred and anger of others.

"A scared, broken man, not sure what is going to happen to him, so he has to resort to trying to bring the only person who ever bothered to try to care down to his level, and now that he has, he is ever more terrified, because who is going to pull him up now?"

Jack probably hadn't realized what sort of damage such a statement could do to Vito's mind...

Jack stared back at him, her resolve and belief shaky but still intact as she looked into his eyes; eyes that looked as though they had been extinguished of all happiness and light. Jack knew that she had to be having this conversation, but for once, she began to worry about the outcome. There was a very good chance Vito would say what she did not want to hear, and make her believe it to. She could see the part of Vito who she was fighting for, the part who understood some sort of compassion, but it was losing to the Vito who who was comprised almost entirely of hate. She knew that there was a large possibility that this would end with her destroyed, that Vito would make her believe what he so much wanted to believe himself.

But if would be that easy, than her name was not Jack Dyllan.

He finished his speech and she said quietly, "Even if all of that were the full truth, I would still have hope, Vito. Because even that man that I described... even he fights for everything, fights against everything. You can not escape that you will always fight opposition. You are defiant almost to a fault." She allowed for a small smile, because Jack understood this very well. To her, defiance was almost never a bad thing.

Her face returned to its original expression and she pressed on, "And the Vito I know would never lie down and accept any of that. You have never let anything get the best of you if you thought you could help it. Now your only issue is deciding what to fight against; these rules that say you can not have some sort of good in you...or me."

She felt the corner of her mouth prick upwards into a sad, lopsided smile. "And while the Vito I know loves to fight with me..." Her face got a little more serious. "I also know he has never been one for following the rules."