Jim Halpert had everything a young man could wish for: money, nice suits, a great loft in New York City, a lot of women lining up to date him. He was envied by a lot of people. His family was proud of him. He had made it big time. But still, he was unhappy. There was something missing from his life, like he had nothing that really mattered to him. He was also very lonely.
His so called friends were all assholes, and most of the women he had met were shallow and sadly empty. Just like he was. He didn't even remember how to actually being in love with someone felt like.
His last girlfriend, Annabelle, cheated on him with one of his colleagues. That day was impressed in his mind, because it was probably what most people would call “hitting the bottom”. Or at least, the beginning of a very slow descend into misery and self pity.
It happened six months ago. He had decided to get home early, pulling some strings and calling in some favors to have Adam cover for him. It wasn't easy, cause Adam was annoying and arrogant and, well, just a huge piece of shit. But he wanted to surprise Annabelle by cooking her dinner, cause he never did things like that anymore, not like when he was a dumb, romantic college kid. He just felt this impulse to do something, to make an effort for once. He didn't want this relationship to just fade away and slowly die like every other one he had had so far. And it wasn't because he had particularly deep feelings for her. He just wanted this to last because at least it was better than being alone again. It was just...a better option. It looked like what a normal 30 years old guy should do. And maybe he would eventually get used to it and pretend he was actually happily in love. A pretty wife was maybe the only thing missing from this ridiculous plastic life he was living. What harm could a little bit more of pretending actually do? It was all he did all the time anyway.
So that evening he went grocery shopping, he picked up wine and even candles. The cashier smiled at him while he was in line, cause apparently he looked like a really good boyfriend. He smiled back feeling like a complete fraud. He walked in his apartment with a lot of bag in his hands, pushing the door open with his shoulder. The moment he got inside, the bags immediately fell down from his hands. There was Annabelle, naked, on top of a just as much naked Alex.
“What the fuck is happening?” is what Jim said. It was a pretty ridicolous question cause there was no misunderstanding what was happening there, no matter how much she tried to convince him it was “not like it looked”. The whole being naked thing wasn't really helping her cause, and she was being very pathetic in that moment.
The weirdest thing of all was that Jim didn't feel any pain. He felt relieved. She had just offered him a way out without him having to make any actual decision.
Looking at Annabelle crying and trying to explain while Alex ran out of the door half naked, he had only one simple, reasonable question in his mind, and he actually started laughing hysterically: “Why the fuck would you do this in my apartment?” Apparently, it was “more dangerous”. To this day Jim couldn't understand how could have she been so stupid. He really dodged a bullet.
That was the night the drinking started. He was so disgusted by Annabelle, by Alex and most of all by his own lack of emotional reactions that he decided passing out on the couch was actually better than facing himself and trying to understand what the hell was wrong with him, cause clearly, something must have been wrong. He was clearly broken.
How did he end up like that? In the following months he asked himself this same question over and over, between a sip of Whiskey and a beer. He never managed to find a satisfying answer.
He was so hopeful when he moved to New York, back when he was just a bit more than a kid. He remembered it like it was yesterday, applying for a job at a record label, just an intern job, nothing fancy, but it seemed like a cool idea to work with artists. He had no expectation to actually get the job, but against all odds he got the call while he was going to an interview for a job in some lame little paper company.
He was already in the parking lot, looking at the very depressive office building, thinking about how horrible it would actually be to work in there. He saw a bunch of people passing by his car. There was this guy, dressed in a suit, not very tall, acting like he was telling the funniest joke in the world. Next to him there was a weird tall guy with a mustard shirt and glasses who laughed at everything the man said, while a black guy rolled his eyes and looked completely done with the entire world. That did not look like a happy place to work. Right when he was opening his car door to get out, his phone rang.
“Mr Halpert?”
“Yes, it's me.”
“I'm Jodie, I am calling about your job application.”
He almost didn't let her finish. He immediately turned the car around, almost running over a tiny blond woman who almost killed him with a look.
He got home packed a bag and started looking for apartments.
Two days after, he officially moved to New York. His apartment was really small and his roommate was a nightmare, constantly complaining about Jim's mess, but he felt happy and truly lucky. He was in New York! He had left Scranton! He was working in the music industry! It was like all his dreams were suddenly becoming true.
The first year was was incredible. He was overwhelmed by the city. He met so many different people and he made so many new experiences and saw things he could have only imagine back in such a little town like the one he grew up in. Museums, theaters, the best restaurants, concerts. It was all so perfect in the eyes of a 22 years old kid from a small town.
But now things were so different. He was 30 and growing tired of the chaos of the city. His work wasn't funny anymore. He was a big shot in the label, which meant mostly bureaucracy and meetings with annoying managers and terrible publicists for shitty bands. He never met any actual musician anymore, only the big shots who were mostly spoiled brats once you got over the excitement to meet them. He had completely lost his passion.
He didn't know who the fuck he was anymore. He missed the goofy, funny, positive guy he used to be. Now he was an empty ghost in an expensive suit. His life was slipping away from him.
Sitting in his apartment, the fourth drink of the night in his hands, he wondered what would have had happened to him if the phone call never came. If he had stayed in Scranton. Would he have been happier? Or would he have been a sad, terrible person all the same?
He drank. And then drank again. Alcohol was becoming a problem lately, and he was scared of himself, even if he didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to go down that path. He felt like such a cliche.
The phone rang. It took Jim a couple of minutes to find it.
“Hello?”
“Where the fuck are you, Halpert?” It was Frank, his boss. And he did not sound happy.
“What? I'm...I'm...home. Why?” Jim wasn't really sure if he was awake or just dreaming this.
“We had a meeting with that shitty indie band manager! You are almost an hour late!”
“Shit. Shit! I'm coming. I'll be right there.” Jim had completely forgotten about the meeting. It was a pretty important one and there were a lot of money at stake here.
He could barely stand up straight, the room was spinning around him and the simple task of getting dressed seemed like climbing a mountain. A really big one. He didn't even tried to put is tie on.
He almost got run over while trying to stop a cab.
“Get out of the way! Are you insane?”
“I...stop. I need a cab. Can you take me please?” He was sweating a lot, he could feel it all over his blue shirts. Not a good color idea.
“No way, you are drunk!”
“I'll give you 200 bucks.”
“Ok, but do not puke in my cab!”
He had no idea where the meeting was, and that it took him three attempts to finally find Frank's number on his phone, cause he kept messing up with his touchscreen and he actually started shouting at “these stupid modern phones” before finally finding the number and getting the adress. At least he managed to not get sick in the backseat.
He got inside the restaurant looking homeless. Frank walked toward him like he was ready to murder him on the spot, without caring about witnesses.
“Are you fucking drunk? You've got to be kidding me!” He was exasperated and a more than a bit scary.
“What? Me? No! I am fine. I am fine. Just...I had one drink but I am fine.” Jim was convinced he sounded absolutely believable. In fact, he was slumbering his speech pretty bad.
“You piece of shit, you are gonna cost me a lot of money. Do not ruin this or you are done.” Frank's face was so red Jim got worried he was gonna have an heart attack. Would that be considered his fault, technically? His head was hurting so bad with all this thinking!
Their potential client, tired of waiting for the two idiots arguing at the front door, decided to get a closer look at what was going on, so he walked up to them.
“Is everything ok Mr Daniels?” He asked to a flustered Frank.
Jim immediately jumped in and shook the client's hand. The client did not look happy for all the sweating.
“Everything is perfect, Mr...Mr...” He could not remember this guy's name at all. B...B something. Berger? Basket?
“Bennett. We talked on the phone.” He sounded very, very annoyed and ready to get the hell out of there.
“Bennett, sure, of course! I'm Jim Halpert, I am gonna be taking care of...” The running down the stairs, the cab drive, the hot and claustrophobic restaurant were too much for Jim to handle, he just couldn't help himself anymore. He felt it immediately, the taste in his mouth. He knew it was coming but there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was all too much. He ended up throwing up on his client's very expensive shoes.
“You are fucking fired Halpert, you hear me? You are gone!” Those words screamed at him by Frank where the last thing Jim would remember about that night.
Story Notes:
So, this is my first Jam fanfic, my first AU ever and my first multi-chapter story, so be nice to me!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter End Notes:
So, here we go. I hope this first chapter was interesting enough for you to want to read more. Next time, we are gonna check on our favourite receptionist and see how she is doing!
