He cried over nothing.

Chapter .1

Jake was tired of it. Tired of it all. He was alone, again. He didn't want to cry, but it was so difficult not to. His eyes burned from unshed tears. He felt so guilty, laying on his soft bed, thinking about the Music Club. He felt so guilty for saying those things. He felt guilty for picking on them in the past. It was heaving him down.

He thought a walk could, maybe, help him calm down. He slowly got up from his messy bed and, dressed in his usual warm, deep blue jacket, he came out of his room. As he got to the door, he was starting to have second thoughts; what if he unexpectedly encountered the Music Club? But he knew he was just being paranoid. The chances of that were low. He would genuinely have to be the most unlucky guy in the world if that happened.

He opened the door, and instantly felt the cold air hit his face. It was a very cold night. Nonetheless, he stepped outside and on the sidewalk. He didn't exactly have a destination in mind. He just walked and walked, but it didn't seem to help. He was still on that particularly depressing train of thoughts. Noticing it wasn't really helping out, but also not wanting to walk all the way back to his house, he quietly sat on the sidewalk. It was bumpy and rough, however, he didn't care. He was too lost in his mind. He hugged his knees to his chest, letting his dejected face rest on them.

After what happened with the Music Club, he felt even more miserable than he felt before. In his eyes, it was all over. The Music Club wouldn't speak to him, he would have no chance in redeeming himself. They wouldn't hear him out. Besides, he felt like they had every right to kick him out of the Club and ignore him. He was an asshole. He hated himself for saying those words. He hated himself for being such a prick. He hated himself for existing.

He could feel the tears coming out. After so much time of holding them in, it made him ache even more. It was awful. He couldn't stop the tears from flowing. He truly felt like a failure. Why did he have to be so pathetic, so... unlovable. Annoying. His tears blurred his vision until all he could see were blurred shapes. He only felt his hot tears. He couldn't feel the rough sidewalk anymore, or the cold air blowing in his face.

After a while, he calmed down. His eyes were red, and it was obvious he'd been crying for a long time. He was exhausted now. He sluggishly stood up from the sidewalk and started to make his way back home. It was dark, the sky was a deep blue that almost matched the one of Jake's jacket. When he finally got back home, he went straight to his room, got into his pajamas and in bed. He slowly fell into a nightmare-filled sleep.

Jake woke up sweating heavily. He couldn't exactly remember the nightmare, however he felt it must've been a disturbing one if he woke up breathing and sweating heavily. He quickly recovered from it and got up from his bed. He went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Looking in the mirror, he noticed his blonde hair was basically a spiky nest. He also looked like the living dead: he had very noticeable eye bags, and he, in general, looked like all the life had been wiped out of him. He averted his eyes away from the mirror, not wanting to look at the mess he was, and brushed his teeth. Just looking at his miserable self made him feel even more pathetic.

Once he was finished with brushing his teeth, he went to his room and picked his usual outfit, grabbed his school bag and headed to school. In all honesty, he didn't want to go to school at all. He didn't want to face anyone. Or talk to anyone, but that was already solved, since he had no one to talk to. After exploding at Drew and the others, they hadn't bothered to talk to him. He felt guilty about that, too. However, a part of his mind also told him that they deserved it.