Jude’s POV

Fucking cancer, man… Come on, give me swine flu, even fucking ebola, but cancer? Like… seriously? The one thing I can’t really fight. Sure, all the chemo, the radiation therapy, surgery and all that useless crap was just something you would put under a label ‘false hope’ when you’re stage three and pushing for stage four. Useless crap you spent tons of money for.

All the stomach and back pain should’ve been a super big red flag, but hey, Jude Clarke doesn’t take shit from nobody, not even her doctor saying that I should really check out that cyst. For the majority of my life I had struggled with POS short for Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. Turned out one of those many suckers happened to be fucking cancer.

What are the odds…

It wasn’t like I was in denial or anything, I knew I was gonna die, I just didn’t want this shit to affect Riles, which it clearly would and did already. I had to be fucking blind or on meth, heroin and LSD altogether to miss my baby’s swollen eyes, dark circles and nicotine filled smoke escorting her everywhere she went. This is why I didn’t tell her, this is why I didn’t want her to return from UK. From time to time I kept thinking if she stayed in London with my piece of shit ex-husband and simply found out I died from some shady gossip page would be a lot easier for her, than being around her stupid ass mom and seeing her die.

Although I felt super good, I couldn’t deny I felt the disease progress. At first I was only really tired with the occasional sharp pain in my pelvis which lasted really shortly, now I could hardly eat because of the chemo, I had to pee every half hour and I’m not exaggerating, I felt like vomiting and then passing out in my own puddle of puke… the pain became more frequent and lasted longer, but all in all, I felt good. If I was going to die, so be it… what was the worst part – I had to leave my awesome kid. Oh and the label…

I popped a handful of pills, before I laid down on the couch and fixed my eyes on some shit tv show about housewives of Beverly hills. Jameson jumped up on the couch and with a couple of meow’s fixed himself on my stomach.

The front door flung open just as I was starting to enjoy the rich people problems and Brian marched in hands full of shopping bags. So he had taken Riley shopping after all. Thank God, or else I’d run out of clothes in the next couple of days. God forbid she put anything back when she kindly ‘borrowed’ it.

“Delivery for Jude Clarke!” Brian exclaimed as he marched towards me. With a cocked eyebrow I saw him dropping the bags to the floor and Riley coming in with loads of balloons. Jameson’s eyes lit up. If he could, he’d probably lick his lips before charging towards those floating pieces.

“What is going on?” Besides the balloon’s, Riley was carrying a big box of something. “You guys are fucking crazy,” I mused as I boosted myself up and saw Riley go straight to the kitchen, putting the box on the island.

“Come on,” She waved me over. Was there an option of me just staying here and fucking everything? I guessed not. Slowly I got off from the couch and walked over to Riles, seeing her knifing the box open.

“Tadaa!” Brian exclaimed excitingly when Riley took the top off. It was a cake. A bigass chocolate cake with the words ‘Fuck Cancer’ boldly written over it.

I simply burst out laughing and I can’t even tell you why. “All I have to do is get cancer and finally someone brings me cake and balloons… This is awesome, I love you guys,” I snaked my arms around both Riley and Brian. “So where are the strippers?” I said as I drew my finger across the topping and brought it to my mouth.

“A ‘fuck cancer’ party with strippers?” Brian shot me an amused eyebrow. Well yeah… Doh. What is a party without strippers? Fucking lame.

“We could get Matt?” Riley suggested walking around the kitchen island and leaning over to take a couple of plates for the cake. “Or Brian here could strip for you,” she chuckled.

“Woah, slow down there, I didn’t agree to strip for nobody… That was not part of the deal,” Brian shot his hands up in defense.

“Don’t worry, man,” I slapped his ass, before I went to pick up my plate with cake, “I know you couldn’t dance for the life of you,” I said right as Riley passed me a fork, “Besides I need a man who I could ride like a fucking horse in my freshly tailored wedding dress,” The dress I wore to mine and Henry’s wedding I had tailored so it would be as tight as a motherfucking glove and as short as a shirt. Hey, easier to fuck someone.

As soon as Brian had brought the fork with cake to his mouth, he choked and started coughing.

“Mum—“

“Before I die!” I exclaimed dramatically. Fine, maybe this was the worst part of me having a terminal disease... for others. I didn’t care about anyone, but me getting my way, and if I had to use my fucking cancer as a gateway to getting stuff? I call it a fucking smartass plan. “I finally got my wedding dress altered and I can’t wait to leave it on some guy’s floor. Even if it’s the last thing I do!”

“Mother… I swear to god…” Riley spoke in her perfect british. Here’s the thing about brits, they can cuss the absolute shit out of someone and still sound classy as fuck and that’s probably why I fucked so many brits in my life. Including her dad.

“Fine,” I rolled my eyes as I brought the cake to my mouth, “No angry sex talk while eating. Gotcha.”

“So… How are you feeling?” Riley threw me an uncertain glance as she finished her cake. Oh man… half a slice and I’m already full… Fuck this.

“Never better,” I smirked trying to force feed myself the rest of the chocolate wonder. “I can smoke weed, you guys bring me cake… I don’t have to deal with stupid ass people like that Jen chick back in the studio… I’m fucking amazing.”

Riley’s grays watched me suspiciously. I know what she was thinking… I was 5’8 and weighed around 100 pounds when usually I weight 125 and I could hardly finish a tiny slice of cake. I knew it looked super bad, but what could I do? “I’ll pretend I believe you,” She said as Brian disappeared out the door without a word and moments later returned with two paper bags full of groceries.

“Tonight I’m gonna cook and you both are gonna like it,” He said as he placed the bags on the counter. Riley snorted, getting a dirty look from Brian. “I mean it, Clarke. I’m a pretty good cook, by the way.”

Riley threw her head back as she burst in laughter, “And who told you that? Your mother?”

He shot her a patient stare as he took a package of eggs out of one of the bags. These kids, man… They brought a smile on my lips each time I saw them together. They were meant for each other even if my stubborn daughter thought otherwise.

“If you burn down the house, I’m gonna put you up for adoption. Both of you,” I pointed a finger to each of them, before I walked towards the patio door.

“But he’s cooking!” I heard Riley cry in discontent as I walked outside.

I walked across the backyard to the fence that separated us from Matt and Saint, on my way taking one of the dark chairs from the garden table and dragging it with me. As I measured my way, I realized my backyard was fucking boring. A pool at the far end which almost never was used, a garden table neatly sitting in the middle of the backyard and a couple of flowerbeds stretching along the fence. I needed to feng-shui this shit up.

As I moved closer, I heard someone cannonball in the pool on the other side of the fence. I got up on the chair and peeked over the high fence. Saint was sunbathing while Matt was just emerging from the water. “Hey kids, we have cake, come and dig in,”

“Jesus Christ, Jude!” Saint jumped in her place, “You scared the bejesus out of me!”

I exploded in a tasty laughter, before Matt spoke, pulling himself out of the pool, “You know once you’ll regret stalking on us like this,”

“I’ll throw a dollar at whatever you think I haven’t seen by now,” I chuckled while Matt took a towel, a dirty grin on his face, “Now come on!” I waved them over right before I jumped off the chair.

I walked over back to the house both Brian and Riley chopping their lives away. “What is this?” Riley took a piece of salary from Brian’s cutting board. “You won’t be able to get this bloody thing in your mouth,”

“That’s what she said,” Brian snickered, before playfully hip bumping her, getting an eye roll out of her. “Come on, lighten up,”

“So where’s the fuckin’ cake?” The front door flung open revealing Matt in his swimming trunks and Saint wearing Matt’s shirt to cover up her bikini.

“You better not get those wet shorts on my dry couch, young man,” I pointed a finger at him.

“Hey, you said there’s cake-mergency here, so sorry if I didn’t have the time to change,” He shrugged as he walked over to the kitchen island, freezing instantly when his eyes laid upon the cake. “Uhmm, this is a joke, right?”

“What is it?” Saint walked closer as Matt looked at each and every one of us. Nobody let out as much as a sound. “Cancer? Guys? What’s going on?”

Well… fuck. Why couldn’t they just enjoy the delish wonder and skip the questions? “I… Uhmm… have cancer.”

Silence. A very long silence. The only noise that took over the place were the knives hitting those cutting boards. Matt let out a single silent ‘fuck’.

Saint swallowed loudly, “Shit… Jude… I mean… Crap…”

“Oh come on, nobody’s died yet,” I chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Yet,” Riley mumbled silently.

I decided to ignore her and just continued, “Come on, guys, I’m fine, eat some cake, Brian’s cooking us dinner with the assistance of Riles, it’s all gonna be good.”

“Yeah, come on, Shads, eat some cake or you can help us cooking,”

Matt laughed, “Yea- no, I ain’t cooking shit, Gates.” He was laughing that’s good, but Saint… She just stood there, gawking at me. With a heavy sigh, I walked closer and wrapped my arms around her.

“I’m good Saint,” I whispered in her ear.

“You think you have a choice and that’s sweet and all, but it’s time you take the knife and do what you were meant to do,” Brian laughed.

“Thanks,” Matt replied, taking the knife, “I think I will… take the knife and cut myself a bigass slice of cake. You’ll want one, babe?”

“Y-yeah,” Saint answered as soon as she had pulled away from me and wiped away her tears. Come on, girl, don’t ruin your makeup over me.

“That’s… not what I meant,” Brian sighed.

“You know,” I started as I leaned over the counter, “Chicks dig guys who cook… Guys who cook – get laid.”

“Thanks, Jude,” Matt laughed, stuffing his face with cake, “And I thought me and Gates were goners. Turns out all we have to do to finally, after all these years, get some boning action is start cooking.”

“Speak for yourself,” Brian grinned as he poured the freshly cut veggies in the pot.

“Vex?” Saint spoke in a hushed voice, making Riley raise her glossy eyes from the cutting board. She was on the verge of crying and say what you want, but I really doubt it’s because of shredding up onions. “Can we talk? Outside?”

Riley’s POV

“Is she really… Is she gonna die?” Saint spoke as soon as I closed the patio door behind us and wiped away my tears with the edge of my shirt.

“I.. I don’t know,” I replied walking over one of the flower beds and snapping off the dead flowers. “Look at her...” I sniffed, crouching down by the long flower bed which stretched along the house. “She acts like she’s invincible… Like she’s Hulk. Deadpool had cancer and look what happened to him…”

“Vex, Deadpool didn’t die…” We’re comparing my mum to a character from comic books? Yea, why not. Jude Clarke was in fact a cartoon character herself. One who swears profusely.

“Yeah, but he became the ugliest motherfucker walking the face of earth,” I sighed, getting back up and finally fixing my eyes on my friend. “Something tells me this isn’t gonna have a happy ending.”

“How bad is it?” She spoke quietly.

“Stage three.” I exhaled heavily, Saint’s eyes widening. Yeah… Didn’t sound too good, right?

“Fuck…” She whispered, narrowing her eyes on the ground. “I still remember the first time I met your mom… I thought she was gonna smack my good-for-nothing ass because I was the one to drag your wasted ass in. I ended up getting even more drunk with her. She has bailed my ass out of jail more times than I can count…”

“Just because she thought your parents’ will murder you,” A small smile crept up on my lips.

“They probably would’ve…” Saint chuckled lightly, “Matt told me he and the guys used to crash at your place when they were too drunk to go home.”

“That’s not something I was super stoked about… The whole place reaked like the guys locker room and liquor factory gone wrong three days after they left.” As I spoke, we slowly moved towards the lounge chairs by the pool. “Thank god most of the guys now have their own houses and I’m only stuck with Haner junior.”

“Oh come on, he’s not that bad… The guy’s sweating in front of the oven, you have to give him some cred for that,” Saint chuckled as we both sat down, the evening sun gently kissing our skins.

“I’m surprised he didn’t run as soon as I told him mum has cancer,” I spoke thoughtfully, “He insisted on staying and I don’t know why…”

“You’re completely oblivious, aren’t you?” She giggled.

“What do you mean?” I frowned.

“He still loves you.”

“Saint, come on,” I waved her off, as I turned to look in the distance, “The guy isn’t capable of loving anyone but himself.”

“Why do you always have to be so difficult, goddammit?!” Brian yelled as soon as he had dragged me in one of the empty bedrooms of upstairs.

I crossed my arms over my Motley Crue t-shirt, annoyed beyond limits. This was my birthday… My eighteenth fucking birthday and he was acting like a bitch because I didn’t want him getting shitfaced on tequila before they served the cake. “How am I being fucking difficult, Brian? Because you’re already drunk and I want you to be there when I blow out the candles? You’re my fucking boyfriend!”

“I threw this party for you!” He yelled, punching the nearby wall. Let’s just stop there for a moment, all he did was bring his goons and ungodly amounts of liquor, since this was the best place to get drunk, knowing my mom was out of the country touring with her band. I really doubted he even knew this was my birthday and god forbid I knew where he had been for the last week or so.

“And that means you can get fucking wasted and act like an asshole?” I shouted back.

“You’re fucking killing me here,” He hissed angrily, “I just wanted to have an amazing evening with my friends and you throw a fucking tantrum!”

“With your friends?” My eyebrows shot up, “In my house… On my birthday…”

“You know what I meant,” He spoke in a calmer manner.

“Oh I know perfectly what you meant,” My eyes squinted on his face. “I don’t know half the people you dragged here! I didn’t ask for any of this!”

“Well what do you want me to do? Kick them out? Tell them ‘sorry, my girl’s being a bitch and wants you all to leave, thanks for the presents, tho’. Is that it?” Presents? Now that was a fucking big joke. The only presents I received were from Matt and Rev and right now there were around fifty people getting fucking shitfaced around the house.

“Thanks, man, really appreciate the compliments,” I said and walked for the door. I had already opened it, before he stepped in front of me, slamming it shut.

“What’s your fucking problem?” He was suddenly all in my face.

“You are!” I exclaimed. “Where the fuck were you for the last week? I called you like hundred times...”

He stood silent for a moment, just looking at me until he finally spoke, “me and the guys had a couple gigs, you know that.” A glimpse of guilt flashed in his browns. I wasn’t buying it.

“Whatever,” I mumbled, “Let me go.” I said, but he didn’t move from his place. “Please.” I spat through bitten teeth, him finally stepping aside from the door.

I didn’t remember the majority of the evening, I just knew I hated everyone I saw at my house, everyone except for Saint. She was my savior. I had jerked a bottle of Grey Goose from some kids hands and we just locked ourselves in my mom’s bedroom and got drunk on vodka. Brian didn’t even think of coming and apologizing. He knew very well where I was and if he wanted he would, but I guess there were better things occupying his mind at the moment.

The last thing I remember was getting chilly and walking over to my room to get a cardigan or something. The view I stumbled upon was not something even the excessive amounts of booze could erase from my memory.

A cloud of dark hair falling over a bare back as she fucked my goddamn boyfriend.

“Oh this is rich…” I whispered my eyes going wide as I raised the bottle to my lips.

“Happy birthday, Riley,” Saint mused in complete awe from beside me.

“You’re screwing some slut in my fucking bed, you asshole?!” I screamed on the top of my lunges, before I threw the bottle at the chick, knocking her straight in the head. She stumbled off him and he sat up instantly a dumbfounded look on his face. “On MY fucking birthday?!”

“You have to be shitting me,” A masculine voice whispered behind us.

“Riles, squeezing through,” Both Matt and Zack got in the room shielding me from the view, before the door closed right in front of us.

“Is it too late to sing Happy Birthday?” Jimmy had just walked up the stairs with the cake and the candles burning.

“Did you even hear a word I said?” Brian’s voice had brought me back from my train of memories. Huh? I didn’t even notice him getting here. And where had Saint gone to? He was now sitting in the lounge chair, exactly where Saint had been sitting just moments ago.

I frowned, “I’m sorry… what?”

A corner of his lips raised, “I said… Your mom had to go to the studio for a bit and the food is ready. We’re gonna eat here or inside?”

“I… I really don’t care.” I sighed.

“Are you okay?” He frowned, leaning a bit forward as he inspected my features.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Thank you for the observation, Captain Obvious.

“Then stop looking.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult, Clarke?” Deja-vu, anyone? I swear I’ve heard this somewhere before. “I’m trying, okay? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it, just don’t shut me out…”

Well… this was something new. I was almost hundred percent sure he’ll explode in another tantrum. "My mum is dying, Brian,” I rubbed my hands over my face as I spoke, “and you want to reincarnate something we didn’t even have ten years ago…”

“Ten years ago I was an idiot… fine, I’m still an idiot,” He smiled silly on his little remark, “and yes, your mom has a terminal disease but it doesn’t look like she’s stopped living and neither should you. Only God know how long she’s left. Maybe a couple of months, maybe a year, hell, maybe even ten years. No one knows, Riley…”

He… He actually had said something that made me think. Maybe he wasn’t such a big moron I thought him to be after all… He was trying, the guy was actually trying to make things right. Why? “Okay,” I made my best attempt to smile, “I’ll try my best not to be a grumpy pants.”

“That’s awesome.” He smiled at me, “Oh and before I forget, your mom said she’s gonna go to some treatment in New York, so she’s gonna be away for a week or so.”

My smile turned upside down, “When is she leaving?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I do love my mum to bits, but I swear to God, sometimes I just want to—“ My hands raised in a strangling motion, before I continued, “Why doesn’t she ever tell me this stuff?”

“Because she’s your mother?” He laughed, “Like you told me you’re gonna move to UK and I’m not gonna see you for ten years?”

I looked at him like he was retarded, “We were on no speaking terms, why would’ve I told you?”

“Yo, lovebirds!” Matt’s voice sounded through the backyard, “the food’s getting cold! Should I bring it outside?”

A cool drop of water landed on my forehead, forcing me to look up at the cloudy sky. “No, we’re coming inside,” I shouted back, before turning to speak to Brian, “it looks like it’s gonna rain.”

“Again?” He was looking at the dark sky, “It’s the second time this month… You brought this shit with you.”

I chuckled, before I spoke in a mocking manner, “Is Synyster Gates afraid of a little bit of rain?”

“Clarke—“ he started in warning, but I cut him off,

“Is the big ol’ rain gonna ruin poor Synyster Gates’ hair?” By then I was laughing my ass off, seeing the raindrops land on Brian and him flinch every single time. “Dude… it’s just water.”

“Can we, please, head inside?” He stood up, holding his arm out for me.

“Fine,” I sighed, before taking his hand, “But only because I strongly believe you’d die if something happened to ruin your hair, princess.”

“So now you care about me dying?” He pulled me up as the rain started pouring down more heavily.

“Actually I’d just hate to dispose of the body.”

Notes

Hey, lovelies,
I promise I'll try and make this story as light and avoid drama and sad things as much as I possibly can. Jude's condition is needed for the plot so there's no changing that.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)