Fix Me, Fix You: A Jesse Pinkman Story

Chapter Three

New Orleans was even more vibrant at night. The lights, the people, the music. It was even more energetic than before, if possible. It was louder, brighter, and even more populated. It was unlike anything Jesse had ever experienced before.

A soft smile tugged on his lips as he wandered through the new city. He was enjoying himself, but he couldn't help but question his decision of staying in the Big Easy instead of continuing to Miami. He was so afraid of making another life-altering mistake. But the vibe he felt from the streets sent life back into his bones. And he knew that he had made the right choice – even if it was only for a night.

The sound of drunken karaoke filled his ears as he finished another glass of whiskey. His blood was beginning to warm up from the liquor and he was craving a cigarette. He paid for his drinks and left the bar, the fifth bar he had been to that night.

He was trying to make his way in and out of local bars, having a few drinks here and there, trying to get into a fun mood, even eyeing a few local girls, but he realized he didn't find the same pleasure in drinking and partying that he used to. A lot of the color and fun had been sucked out of his life, and he was going to have to work hard to bring some of it back.

With a lit cigarette perched between his thumb and index finger, Jesse leaned against a brick wall, taking in the scenery and sounds. He was a little hazy from the alcohol, and his eyes were bloodshot again. The nausea from his withdrawal had lingered in his gut all evening and was now intensified.

As he smoked his cigarette, he strolled through downtown New Orleans until he came across a cheap motel. Deciding it was probably time to call it a night, he flicked the cigarette butt into the street and walked into the motel.

"How can I help ya, darlin'?" The older woman behind the desk greeted as Jesse walked in.

The locals were some of the nicest people he had ever met and the hospitality they showed him made him feel at home. How could he not have a semi-permanent smile on his face after encountering these wonderful people?

"Can I get a room for tonight?" He asked.

"Just one night?" She wondered as she typed on her computer.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, feeling the southern hospitality rubbing off on him.

"Alright...that'll be seventy-four dollars and twenty-three cents," she told him.

He nodded, taking his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling out a hundred dollar bill and handing it to her. He didn't have a whole lot of money left after the feds seized everything, but he had enough money to at least get himself started in a new city after selling his house and his expensive sound system and emptying his savings account.

Once Jesse was in his room for the night, he stripped off his worn clothes and stepped into the shower.

Steam rose from behind the shower curtains, fogging up the mirror as he stood under the cascading water. The heat prickled his skin, but he was numb to nearly all pain after the last two years, so it didn't bother him a bit. Using the bar of soap, he scrubbed his skin to wash away the grime from the city. He prayed that the soap would wash away his past as well. His life would be so much easier if his past wasn't hanging over his head 24/7.

He stood under the water, letting the soap bubbles and dirt wash down his torso. He leaned his shoulder against the tile, sighing deeply. He probably wouldn't have such a hard time coping if he wasn't so alone. But he was. He was completely alone.

It was better that way, he knew, because that's how you start over. Leave everything behind. But it was tough having no one to talk to, no one to call, and no one who will call you. He had no one.