Jasmine spent more time applying products to Jean's face the next night than Jean collectively spent the entire month. Jean had grown accustomed to slapping on a few strokes of waterproof mascara and calling it a day. Jasmine had at least two dozen makeup products laying on the floor next to her.

"I'm afraid," Jean said.

"You shouldn't, you're gonna turn so many heads." Jasmine said, leaning back to look at Jean's face.
She smiled at her work.

When Jean looked in the mirror, she immediately objected. The black rimmed eyes made her look too edgy. Her lips were painted a darker brown. She looked barely recognizable.

"Take this off me," she objected, turning around in the chair to look at Jasmine.

Jasmine laughed "You need to trust me."

"I can't go into public looking like this."

"You look hot, it's something you stopped trying for months ago. It's time Jean. It's time. Now what are you doing with your hair?"

Jean figured the makeup was enough. "Nothing?" She didn't need Jasmine to answer her to know that that wouldn't be an option.

As Jasmine heated up two different curling irons, she handed Jean a shot. Jean threw it back instantly, knowing she would need the liquid courage to get herself to leave the house looking as she did.

As Jasmine styled Jean's hair, they both laughed and talked about what had been going on in each of their lives. Jasmine imitated Ametta which had Jean nearly in tears. It was good to have Jasmine back, she didn't realize how much she missed her until she was here.

Jasmine pulled some different shirts from her closet, and Jean widened her eyes in shock.

"No."

"You have the flattest belly in all the land, show it off."

"I'm not the kind of girl who wears these kind of clothes." Jean put her hands on her cheeks. "I don't have enough confidence. People will laugh. Other girls will hate me."

Jasmine got really close to Jean's face. "They hate you because you're hot. You're competition. They're going to hate you anyways regardless of what you're wearing. You might as well win the war while you're at it." She picked up the bottle of whiskey and handed it to Jean. "Now take a sip."

Jean took a sip and couldn't help but laugh at Jasmine's intensity. She reluctantly agreed to "try on" the clothes to appease Jasmine, but she should have known Jasmine better to know what she was doing.

"Oh. My. God." Jasmine said when Jean stepped out of the closet. "Jeanette fricken Arthur, I don't think I've ever seen you look this hot."

"Stop," Jean said, turning in the mirror and putting her hands on her bare stomach. "I'm not wearing this."

"Are you nuts?" Jasmine said. "So many girls would kill for your body. You can work it, and you need to go for it."

Jean knew it wasn't wise, but then again, she was tired of being wise. She was tired of feeling hurt and she was tired of her life. Maybe this was the start of something new. Jasmine was all she had left, and she wanted her to have fun, then she would try things her way.

"Screw it," Jean said, taking one more shot of whiskey. "Just make sure you take lots of pictures to make Anthony jealous."

Jasmine cheered and gave Jean a hug. "That's my girl!"

As the alcohol started to break down her walls, she started to let go of all she was hanging onto.

***

She was being setup.

If she wasn't already tipsy, she would have been more angry. She eyed the sandy haired boy as he walked towards them with Jasmine's boyfriend Doug. He was cute and nicely dressed. His pastel color choices for his outfit did make him look preppy and she assumed he was a frat guy. Maybe a couple years younger than her, but she wasn't looking for anything serious anyways. With her look and the out of the ordinary night of drinking, the entire thing felt like pretend anyways. Might as well run with this guy too.

Just relax, she thought. Have fun. This doesn't have to be serious. Just one night.

Jean walked up to Bret, who Doug had introduced, and stretched out her arm to shake his hand. He laughed uncomfortably as he shook it, making Jean laugh in return.

"I'm guessing you're my setup," Jean said bluntly. Wow, she really was a lightweight.

Bret kept his hand in hers. "Doug just invited me, I didn't—"

Jean leaned in and kissed his cheek before she even had time to think about what she was doing. "So you don't want to be my date?" Wow, Jasmine was right about the liquid courage. She was playing this character she had transformed into well.

Doug laughed and slipped an arm around Jean's shoulder. "I never said that." Oh, so he was bold too?

Jean felt a slew of emotions when she looked into his eyes. She decided to turn every single one off except for excitement. He wanted her, and she wanted him to want her.

Doug drove them to the bar, and Jean sat in the middle seat so she could lean up against Bret. He played with her hair and asked her trivial questions that made her laugh.

"What's your favorite dinosaur?" he asked.

"A spikeosaurus."

"I don't think that's real."

"Yeah, the one with the spikes."

He was eating up every word she said. His laugh made her feel important. As they parked the car, she remembered on her second date with Anthony how she laughed at nearly everything he said. Then the coffee shop closed and they ended up sitting in the parking lot for hours. They ended up talking most of the night.

She needed more alcohol.

As soon as the car was parked, Jean pranced across the parking lot. They could hear the music from inside playing and she began to dance. Jasmine cheered for her.

Once inside, Bret offered to buy her another drink. She ordered something pink and fruity, and it tasted much better than the shots she had at Jasmine's house. She knew as she sipped the drink she was completely giving up. She had never drank this much and didn't know how her body was going to react. She didn't know how much control she was going to have, and for the first time since she was sixteen years old, she didn't care.

The more she drank, the more Bret kept his arms around her to steady her and she liked that. When he started drinking, he loosened up to. At one point he had turned her around in his arms so she was looking up at him. Next thing she knew, he had planted his lips on hers.
Or maybe she kissed him. She didn't really know, but she didn't care. She used to not like kissing in public, but for some reason now she didn't care. People cheered for them, but she tuned them out.

She didn't care about anything, and she loved the feeling. She kept sipping on Bret's beer in fear she would lose the feeling. She didn't care about Anthony, her parents. She was fine just being loose and having fun with her friends. She didn't want to lose this peace.

"Do you want another drink?" Bret yelled over the loud music.

Jean didn't know. Maybe a beer. Just to keep the current level she was at. It was getting hard to walk and unless he had his hands on her she felt like she was going to fall down.

"Don't leave me," she said, keeping her arms around him.

"Of course not," he said. He pushed her down so she was sitting in the chair. "I'll keep my eyes on you the whole time. Just don't move."

When Jean sat still, the room spun. She didn't like the feeling. She wanted to stand back up. As she did, she looked up to see a familiar face standing directly in front of her.

"Shawn Lewis?" she yelled, taking a step towards him. His eyes instantly met hers and his smile faded. Why did he look at her like that? Did he think she looked ridiculous like she had thought originally? She tried to stop, but suddenly Shawn was stepping forward to catch her.

"Jean?" he said, his higher tone hinting at concern. "Are you alright?"

Jean started laughing and she tried to steady herself back on her feet so she could let go of Shawn, but she couldn't. She kept laughing out of embarrassment and at how ridiculous the situation was. She thought about how different she must seem now than the girl he had met at the coffee shop. She wondered if he thought she did this kind of thing all the time.

Jean couldn't stop laughing but Shawn wasn't laughing‍. He wasn't even smiling. What was wrong with him?

"Jean, let me get you some water?"

"No, water's for quitters," she smiled at him, trying to get him to smile back. His worry made her uncomfortable. Was she really that drunk? Had she gone too far?

She didn't realize his arm was still around her until Bret was suddenly at her side too.

"Shawn?" Bret said. "What are you doing here?" Jean noticed that he didn't sound excited to see him. He must have noticed Shawn's arm around Jean because he quickly pulled her into his side, relinquishing Shawn of his hold on her.

Shawn never took his eyes off of Jean. He seemed angry now when he spoke. "Don't you think she's had enough?"

"I think we're all adults here and we can make our own decisions," Bret replied. He was being snarky. It seemed like the two knew each other. Bret looked down at Jean. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I've never felt better," Jean said, smiling at Shawn so he'd stop worrying. He still had that look on his face.

Bret said something else to Shawn that she couldn't hear. Before she was able to see Shawn's reaction, she was being pulled away by Bret. She tried to look back over her shoulder at him, but there was too many people and she was too dizzy.

Bret sat Jean down in a booth and blocked her in with his body. "Here's your beer."

***

There were many reasons Shawn had not wanted to go out that night. One, Megan would be there. He had grown very close with her younger brother, and even after he had broken up with Megan, they still talked from time to time. Dawson kept asking if Shawn was going to celebrate his 21st birthday with him. Shawn eventually agreed, after clearing with Megan that it would be okay.

Two, he was over these kind of places. The bar was packed with people mostly of college age, to which, yes, he wasn't much older, but he felt like he had outlived this. The days of Irish car bombs and body shots were done. The music was so loud you had to talk right in each other's ears just to hear. There was no tables available, and unless you were planning on getting wasted, there wasn't much to do. Shawn casually sipped his beer and tried to keep up with Dawson.

Megan had been giving him eyes all night. She had brought another guy, who Shawn introduced himself to right away and instantly made a connection with. They started talking baseball after Shawn acknowledged his Braves hat. When Megan stormed off to the bar, Shawn quickly gathered that this new guy may have been a ploy to make him jealous. Unfortunately for her, Shawn's irresistible charm caused him to befriend anyone he met.

He was expecting to drop in for maybe an hour tops, drink a beer, talk to whoever he knew that was there, and leave.

But then he saw her.

His eyes met hers as she struggled to get to her feet, and then proceeded to fall forward towards the ground. Shawn was able to lunge forward and catch her and easily pull her back to her feet. He barely recognized her with her outfit, her hair and makeup. He knew he didn't know her that well, but he also knew this wasn't her. Something wasn't right.

"Jean?" With one arm holding her up, he used the other hand to brush away the hair that had fallen into her face. Her eyes rolled around the room before they looked into his."Are you alright?"

He knew she wasn't. She wasn't okay physically or emotionally. Although she was light, he could feel the weight of her shifting in his arm as she only remained upright because of his support. He hadn't seen somebody this drunk in a long time.

She kept laughing and he could barely make out anything she was saying. Before he knew what was going on, a familiar face appeared in front of him and pulled Jean from his arms. He straightened to stand face to face with Bret Hilliard, someone he used to know back in college. As the heat started to pour into Shawn's face, his heartbeat quickened and his anger rose.

Not him. Not her.

Bret turned into a different person when he drank. While Shawn never knew of him actually assaulting anyone, he was always one to encourage girls to drink way too much, and he never has anything respectful to say about them when they weren't around. His behavior disgusted Shawn, and to see Jean Arthur for the third time in six months, knowing in his soul that she needed help, to be in the arms of this guy, he could barely stand it.

When Bret walked away with Jean, it took everything in Shawn not to grab him by the back of his neck and throw him to the ground. The kid deserved a good beating, and after the derogatory comment he had just made about Jean, Shawn was feeling more than willing to give it to him.

Shawn slammed what was rest of his beer down on an empty table and walked outside. He needed the cool night air and to escape the deafening music so he could think. The smell of cigarette smoke filled the patio and he walked over to lean up against the gate and put his head down.

He knew it was beyond coincidence. He knew that the three times he saw her had to be divine intervention. This time, God had literally thrown her into his arms, and then she was taken away by someone who clearly was not going to lead her in the right direction.

What do you want me to do? Shawn prayed. I don't even know her. I never have, really. Am I just supposed to rip her out of his arms? Then what? Force water down her throat until she sobers up?

He knew that she was beyond that point. She could barely stand. Shawn clenched his hands into fists tightly.

I'm going to hurt him, Jesus. I'm so angry. I can't help her without doing that. Is that what you want me to do?

At that moment, there was a loud crash from inside and a collective amount of cheering and gasping. Everyone on the patio turned their heads towards the door, some standing to their feet to go check out what was going on inside.

Shawn ran. He pushed past the sea of people who now formed a wall as they looked on towards the center of the room. He was taller than most of them, and he was easily able to make his way to the front of the crowd.

Everyone had their cell phones pointed towards Jean, who had evidently knocked over an entire table with all its contents. Bret was laughing, trying to get her to her feet. When he finally did, she looked like a newborn giraffe trying to stand on its own for the first time. She knocked them both into another table, knocking some more bottles to the floor. Everyone cheered, and security pushed their way to the center circle that had formed around them.

"She's gotta go! Now!" A security man bellowed, grabbing the attention of anyone who wasn't already watching. Bret nodded and tried to guide her towards the door, but she stumbled a few steps backwards. The crowd gasped, laughed, cheered. Shawn saw at least 30 cell phones documenting this event that she would never even remember.

He couldn't take it anymore.

Shawn pushed past the people ahead of him. Bret had one arm around Jean's waist. Shawn marched through the clearing and headed straight for Jean. Even though it was clear she was no longer aware of really anything, her eyes met his again and her body straightened in surprise.

Shawn didn't even think when he used this moment to bend down and press his shoulder into her waist, throwing her over his back. The cheering from the crowd was deafening; but he almost didn't hear past the ringing in his ears as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. Shawn didn't skip a beat when he turned and carried her out of the bar. He walked fast, and Jean felt like she weighed nothing at all.

His face was burning as rage filled him as he stormed across the parking lot. He could have carried her like this the entire way home he was so angry. How did it become normalcy to film someone in distress for your own amusement rather than step in and help? Why did it have to be Bret, of all people? Shawn knew he needed to calm down before he did something he regret.

"Hey!" he heard Bret's voice echo across the parking lot from behind him. Shawn stopped and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose before pulling Jean down off his shoulder bracing her against his side. She was trying to say something and she wrapped her arms around Shawn's torso to keep herself upright.

Shawn knew that if he didn't have Jean to hang onto in that moment he would have lunged at Bret.

"I had that covered! Why'd you go and make yourself look like an ass?" Bret yelled, stepping right up to Shawn. Jean was like a drunken barrier between them; he knew Bret was holding back because of her.

"Go find who drove you here and bring them out right now," Shawn ordered, speaking slowly and firmly.

"They left."

Shawn rolled his head back and laughed without humor at the sky. "Of course they did," Shawn said, his voice reaching hysterics. He scooped Jean up in front of him and turned away from Bret to carry her back towards his car.

"Where are you going?" Bret yelled after Shawn, following him. Shawn looked down at Jean's face as he cradled her in his arms. She looked like she was already passed out.

"You think I'm gonna let your drunk self take her home?" Shawn said without looking back at him. He opened up his car door, laying Jean down on the backseat. She was awake enough to crawl the rest of the way in before laying her head down and curling up to fall asleep.

What had he just gotten himself into?

As soon as he shut the car door, he felt the hands grab onto the front of his shirt and turn him around only to slam his back against his car. Bret kept his hands gripped to Shawn's shirt as he got in his face.

"You think what you pulled back there was real smooth?" Bret said through gritted teeth, leaning in closer to Shawn's face. Shawn couldn't help but laugh in exhaustion as he looked towards the sky, even though none of his was remotely funny.

"Let go of me, please," Shawn said comically.

Bret slammed his back against the car again to get his attention. "I should beat your ass right now."

Shawn was still smiling as he tried to stop laughing. He was losing it. He shook his head at Bret. "I'm not going to fight you, Bret."

Bret moved faster than Shawn anticipated and the taste of metallic blood filled his mouth as Bret's fist made contact with his face. Shawn saw the next one coming and was able to block it before shoving Bret roughly to the ground. Before he had a chance to recover, Shawn grabbed him by the front of the shirt and yanked him to his feet, this time shoving him against the car.

It took everything in Shawn not to lay one on him. He wanted to hit him so bad, and Shawn felt his hands shaking as they gripped the shirt around Bret's neck.

"I said I'm not going to fight you!" Shawn yelled, this time getting close to him. "Now get inside, sober up, and don't ever think about trying to talk to this girl again." He used all the aggression he had to shove him away. He stared him down as he backed away. Shawn swore he was going to let him have it if he tried anything.

Bret spit in Shawn's direction before turning and walking towards the bar. Shawn sighed in relief as he turned back towards his car, his mouth stinging in pain.

Of all the things he imagined this night becoming, this was the last thing he expected.