✰ a/n: what do you do when ur feeling shit? Make characters u love feel shit as well!! Also kinda all over the place.
✰ warning(s): cutting, suicidal thoughts
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☁︎︎✰☯︎︎
They say love is pain.
Was it? Or was it some shitty excuse to hurt people?
Jay sat on the chair, glaring at the couple. Specifically, Nya and Cole. After Zane had died, Nya explored her feelings for Cole after breaking up with Jay. They developed a somewhat forced relationship. Once they looked at each other as siblings and now they were lovers. Peachy.
Kai was gone. Left the week after Zane's funeral. Said he couldn't deal with the memories that lingered everywhere he went. Of course everyone was still grieving a couple months after the incident. Jay got contracted for a tv show that he was going to host in a couple of days. He only said yes due to a few personal issues. His everyday routine was just practicing his enthusiasm and meeting the contestants, also knowing how the stage works. He had a day off and it was spent with Wu and Lloyd out and Nya flirting with Cole.
And Jay as their spectator.
Jay wasn't the happiest when his heart was broken. Shattered. Crushed. Who was? But it started since the field trip. From days, months of watching her slowly lose interest in him after he won her heart. The reason was still unknown as to why she acted as such. It was as if a flip switched and her admiration for the lightning ninja disappeared in a second.
He needed to know why. He wanted to ask. It was nearly impossible with Nya constantly around Cole. You don't ask your ex questions about your past relationship, while they have a boyfriend. You just, couldn't.
He fled the room without either of them watching him and thoughts flood his mind.
She doesn't want you.
Your weak.
You're unlovable.
Nobody's wants to be around you.
You're annoying.
Just shut up.
More started to come in and when he entered his door, he fell to the floor, covering his ear as if someone was yelling into his ear. He needed them to stop.
No, what he needed was a release. Something to punish him for how he was acting and behaving. He spotted a ninja star in front of him. Packing was a mess and everything went everywhere. Guess he didn't see the ninja stars. Suddenly a thought came to his mind. He shook his head.
Cutting? Was he serious?
Either way, he reached for it, seeing what he was dealing with. His fingers slowly grasped the metal as if it was fresh from the blacksmith shop, ready to use. He brought it closer to inspect, it was starting to get dull from the excessive amount of use but it was still like new. He wondered how it would feel like on his skin. No, his teammates will get worried.
He sickly chuckled to himself. What teammates? The one who was dead, the one who wasn't here, the one who pretended everything was okay or the two that betrayed him. Who'll get worried? Not his parents. They think everything is fine.
Hesitation. Was he really? He got scratches and bruises all the time in battle. This wasn't any different. Sure this was intentional but still not any different. In an instant he slashed his wrist. He didn't panic over the blood that oozed out of his skin. Pain, it was there. Subtle, but there.
He did it again.
And again.
And again.
Four. That was how many he had. He blankly stared at it. People got addicted to this? He laughed, and laughed harder. This was stupid! It was relief. He felt some kind of relief. After everything that he'd been through this was amazing. It felt so good. Honestly, he didn't care if the others saw. With their fake smiles and pity if they found four handmade scars on his forearm. What would they do?
Of course, him knowing basic medical stuff 101, he knew there was a fat chance of it being infected. He headed towards his bathroom and rinsed off the extra blood. Opening his medical cabinet and grabbed some gauze and rubbing alcohol. He closed the cabinet before grabbing some cotton balls. Ripping open the alcohol bottle, he poured it on his skin. The pain increased ten fold, felt like his skin was on fire. Lightning crackled all over him in result but somehow, he managed to keep it all in check.
He wrapped the gauze around his arm with one hand and managed to tie it without a care in the world. He got his luggages and left the front door.
Nya, of all people, stopped him.
"Jay, you're leaving so soon." She grabbed his arm that had the cuts and she noticed him wince. She wasn't stronger than him, so something was up. "What's wrong?"
"Let go of me," he grumbled. Knowing if he ripped his arm from her hold, a) she would know and b) it would hurt like a bitch. He sighed. "I said, let go of me, Nya. I have to go."
"Not you too," she cried. "First my brother, then you, then-"
"Cole left?" He asked. She nodded. He finally noticed the tear stains on her cheeks from the mascara and tears. This was his chance to win her back, show her what she was missing.
Then he took a double take. She missed her chance to be with him. That was on her. He already gave her his all and yet it still wasn't enough.
"Please-"
"Let go of me." With a gasp, she loosened her grip and nodded understandably. "I'll see you one day, but it won't be anytime soon."
"Jay," she called out as he started to walk away.
"Don't say anything. I don't want to do something I'll regret later on." He never turned back since then.
