Jerome Jones was only twenty when he decided his life was no longer worth living.

His heart felt like a worn-out engine, weighed down by a lifetime of disappointments. The people he once trusted—the family, friends, and lovers he thought would stand by him—had betrayed him or disappeared when he needed them most. He wasn't angry anymore. Anger had burned itself out. All that was left was emptiness.

His mother, Sandy, had disowned him after he failed to graduate from high school.

His sister, Josephine, thrived in every way he didn't, and she never let him forget it.

His girlfriend, Kelly, had not only cheated on him but with Josephine as if to twist the knife deeper.

And then there were his friends: Tommy Rogers, Johnny Pulver, Akira Righter, and Frank Vestron. The ones he grew up with, the ones who once swore, "Bros4Life." Now they wouldn't even return his calls or texts. The tattoo of that phrase on his arm felt like a cruel joke.

He bumped shoulders with strangers on the street, their complaints buzzing in his ears.

"Watch it, man."
"Jesus, pay attention!"
"Stupid!"

Nobody cared. They never did.


---

Flashback 1: The Job Interview

"Sorry, Mr. Jones," the interviewer said, not bothering to look up from his papers. "We're looking for an assertive candidate. You just don't meet the expectations."

"But... sir, it's my dream. I've wanted to work at InoTech since I was a teen. I—"

"Save it." The man waved a dismissive hand. "Competition's fierce. Try Buzzing Inc. They're always hiring. Good luck."

Jerome stared at the man, his carefully prepared resume trembling in his hands. His dreams crumbled into ash before he even made it out of the office.


---

Back in the present, Jerome stepped into the elevator of his apartment building, pressing the button for the seventh floor. As the elevator ascended, memories surfaced unbidden, suffocating him.


---

Flashback 2: A Bitter Bond

Josephine's apartment was a shrine to her success. Trophies, plaques, and awards filled every shelf. Jerome ran his fingers over one of the golden nameplates, envy curling in his chest.

"Face it," Josephine said, her voice sharp. "You'll never be like me."

"I know," he muttered, staring at the floor.

"Good. At least you're not completely delusional."

He looked up, anger simmering beneath his sadness. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're worthless, Jerome. Dumb. A loser. Just get out. I've got someone special coming for dinner."

He left without another word, the sound of her laughter trailing behind him.


---

The elevator dinged, jolting Jerome from his thoughts. He stepped onto the rooftop, the cold wind biting at his skin. He approached the ledge, peering down at the bustling streets below. The horns and shouts of the city felt distant, like they belonged to another world.


---

Flashback 3: Marigold

Marigold's flower shop was once a haven. She was an older woman, gentle and wise in her quiet way. She used to tease him, handing him cookies while they worked.

"You know, Jerome," she had said one afternoon, "you try too hard to be what other people want. Do what matters to you. Be your person."

He didn't realize how much those words had meant until Marigold was gone.


---

Jerome sat on the ledge, his legs dangling over the edge. He had spent the day crossing off items from a hastily made bucket list. Expensive food, arcade games, and even a quick visit to the diner. But nothing had changed. If anything, he felt emptier than before.

At the diner, a red-haired waitress had caught him staring blankly.

"Sir, can I take your order?" she had asked, her tone polite but impatient.

"Sorry," he had blurted, standing so quickly that he banged his knee on the table.

"For what?" she'd asked, puzzled.

"I'm just... I'm sorry," he muttered, rushing out the door before she could press further.

Now, as rain began to fall in heavy sheets, Jerome stared at the abyss below. His mind played back every failure, every insult, every cruel word.

"You're worthless."
"Nobody wants you."
"Be like Joe. She's perfect."
"Just leave, loser."

He swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the ledge.


---

For a brief moment, he thought of the people who had been kind to him. Marigold. Kelly Park, the town drunk, once told him, "Leave this cesspit of a city. Be a damn man."

But they were gone.

Everyone who mattered was gone.

The rain-slicked his hands as he closed his eyes, whispered a quiet apology to no one in particular, and let himself fall.


---

Impact

The streets below continued their symphony of chaos—honking horns, shouting pedestrians, splashing rain. Jerome's body hit the pavement with a sickening finality. For the briefest of moments, the world seemed to pause.

And then, life went on.


---

End