[6]

He stared at the old machine, in all its delicate nature, it still held the past.

He barely touched the machine on the side, and the message changed again.

"Hey... Um..--" Cyril's voice was paused. Her face held a pleasant smile, but it wasn't her smile. It was one of those pre-programmed faces she used to hide behind. It was the last message on the machine. The--

He rolled over and closed his eyes as he took a few deep breaths.

"Its all gone..." Jax said. "You can't change the past..."

His words were slightly slurred as he laid there. Alone and broken, with a stupid broken holo-machine. In his stupid fancy apartment, and all his stupid trust fund money. He didn't deserve any of this, but the pain. Maybe it was just God's way of punishing him for breaking that poor girl.

He took one final breath before he sat up for a moment. He got his bearings, then got up and trudged to the bathroom. In a slum, he did his business and returned to his bedroom. The room had been deep-cleaned down to even the cracks. The smell of tobacco still lingered, but it was fresher. Not that disgusting smell that could have been a bio-chemical weapon.

He threw himself down onto his bed and contemplated what he had done to himself.

He hadn't seen that happy side of Cyril in years. It... Was eye-opening to just how much he had done. He brought his cellphone up along with the picture app and set it on selfie mode. He looked at himself, eye to eye. It was something he hadn't actually done in a while either. He was skin and bones, his face gaunt and just in general, looked like an ugly wreck.

In that moment, he came to a conclusion. This had to end.

Maybe it was the whiskey bottle that had given him courage, but his body roared with courage as he sat up. He hopped into the shower, still undressing as the water rained down on him, and washed thoroughly. Once he was sure he had scrubbed away the smell of booze, he brushed his teeth until the stank of alcohol had mixed with mint. An odd combination, but the much less foul smell.

He dried himself and walked to his closet. There, he skimmed through his small selection of clothes. Most of them weren't nice at all. Thus, he had to settle on black tee and pants. He regretted not finding something more... fancy. However, this would do nonetheless. So long as it wasn't dirty or disgusting. In the end, he had trimmed his beard and cut back his hair. While slightly sloppy, he looked into the closet mirror and admired the proper man before him.

Still... He could only see a bad man. One who broke his promises. Who lied. Who cheated. The sudden change in appearances didn't change the heart, but he'd fix that too.

Once he was satisfied with the look, he walked out of the bedroom and into the living room. He took a look around, admired first once how clean it was. Calm, and still pretty drunk, he took there for a moment. Then, he walked to the glass sliding door and opened it all the way. Winter kissed his freshly washed face. It was a harsh, cold kiss, but it welcomed him nonetheless. He stepped out onto the short balcony and leaned over the rail.

The ground below was scarily far, and everything looked like ants. The street lights illuminated the street below enough for him to see the people and cars go about. He took a whiff of the crisp night air.

"It's a lovely night, isn't Cyril?" He looked up to the starless sky.

He turned on his heel and strode back into the apart with drunken confidence. The cold breeze whispered by the apartment afterward. Then hard thuds echoed through the apartment and Jax dove off the balcony. Through the night sky, he tried to fly.

For a moment, all his worries floated away on that breeze