Procrastinators on Stage (Chris Kendall/crabstickz fanfic) *unedited*

Part 41- I Don't Like These Imperfections

Everything was nothing. All that surrounded me was dark and unfathomable, silent and deadly. I didn't want to move. I couldn't bring myself to move, not anymore.

The faint smell of liquid chocolate tickled my nostrils as I remained seated there at the kitchen counter in Carrie's flat with my eyes tightly shut to the world. This was a ritual to me now; sitting at the counter with my nail bitten fingers nursing a hot chocolate mug. Here, I was alone. I could think of chocolate scents and sweet nothings instead of the turmoil that my real life entailed beyond the shield of my eyelids.

It had been a month since I'd told my ex-friends about my Randomstickz plot. It had been a month of pathetic pessimism where my tears had felt like they'd left impressionable stains on my cheeks, like rain on a dusty window. It had been a month of feeling like if I looked at someone for too long then they'd see how broken I was. Each morning Carrie would assure me that I looked fine. Each morning I'd doubt her assurance more and more.

Lucy and Carrie were the only people who acknowledged me now. And so it was Carrie and Lucy who helped me use the time my ex-friends had vacated from my life a little productively. My two remaining friends spend hours helping me search property websites for any flats in the area or they contacted friends of theirs to find out if anyone had a room to let.

We looked at places together. We checked behind any photographs on the walls for damp, opened every window and door to check if they stuck, asked about the neighbours and local crime rate, and even calculated just how early I'd have to get up in the morning to arrive at the theatre on time. Of all the flats the three of us trawled around, none of them were as nice as Chris' flat with its too small hallway, tiny bedroom window, sticky doors, and annoying flatmate. None of the other flats were even comparable to my old home.

Eventually we stopped looking. Carrie suggested buying a single bed and that I share her room. Lucy offered to ask if there were and student dorms free at her university. Even Jimmy got in contact and offered that we share this flat he'd found near central London for an absurd amount of money. In the meantime, until I actually figured out what the fuck I was going to do, Carrie's sofa was my bed and my cooking abilities paid for my stay.

With my eyes still closed, I lifted the mug to my lips and took a shallow drink of the revitalising syrup. This sweet drink soothed my tongue but brought a pang of yearning with it. I used to drink hot chocolate with Chris every morning, this drink constantly reminded me of that. I didn't want to forget about it so I kept drinking.

"Good morning," Carrie sang cheerily as she entered the lounge/kitchen space.

"Mmm, morning," I mumbled to her with my eyes still closed.

"Big day today," Carrie commented. The sound of her footsteps trailed towards me and the kitchen, where the shriek of the kettle boiling and the click of the fridge opening pursued her.

Indeed it was a big day. I'd spent a month at the theatre, spending my days rehearsing at my dream job where hours turned bland and cumbersome. Every day was the same. We'd rehearse, we'd sing, we'd dance, we'd act. My heart wasn't in it anymore. All day I would see cheery faces which would smile at me constantly, or ask me if I was okay if I wasn't smiling back. I soon learnt to paint a smile onto my lips each morning before I left Carrie's flat to fool them into thinking I was happy too.

And now it was finally the day of opening night. And I felt nothing for it.

With a defeated sigh I opened one eye and regarded my friend as she danced through her morning routine of popping bread in the toaster. She was perfect. Her hair, her body, her style, her personality, her voice, her perfect little life. Even in the fractured light of the kitchen overhead bulbs she looked flawless. Why couldn't I be her? She didn't have to go about her life without her friends. She's so whole. I'm so broken.