Lost in Hollywood

The Loneliest

Never before had Cody felt such pain.

Getting beaten up by Hawk and the Cobras that day in the bathroom, or even getting half of his bones broken by JD and Carol, had been nothing compared to this. 

This pain was killing him. He was bleeding his heart out.

If he had thought that loving Sky without being loved back had been bad, he had known nothing. Then, at least, there had been hope, but now he didn't have even that. All hope was gone. Sky wasn't his anymore, she had cheated on him, she had left him, she had never, never, never loved him.

Never.

Cody craved death like he had never craved anything in his life. As hours passed and he lay in his bed, tears running down his cheeks, a horrible weight crushing his chest, his thoughts turned to the gun. After Sky had left that day after their fight, he had put the gun back into its case, had hid the case onto the upper shelf of his closet behind the pile of T-shirts and old comic books, disgusted by its sight, its presence, but now— now it was all he could think about. Pulling the trigger, putting a bullet in his brain.

There was no hope, no light.

Everything was black, an endless pit of suffering. Sky wasn't his anymore, she never would be, and this pain— this pain would never, ever end, not before he died.

He was in the bed, fully clothed still, in his jeans and his T-shirt, when David and Leigh came home from school. I'm sick, I'm just sick— He told them, hiding his bruised and bleeding face against the pillow - I just need rest, it's okay, It's just a stomach bug. And they believed him, let him be, brought him tea and sandwiches in the evening, which he didn't even touch. The nausea was turning his stomach, he ached all over, he was raw and broken inside out, and all night he cried into his pillow until his voice was hoarse, until there were no more tears.

The next day the sun rose hot and bright in the cloudless sky. How could the sun rise, when the world had ended? Cody only got out of bed, to close the curtains, and then he was back, pulling the covers over his aching head. Darkness, darkness, inside and out. That was all that existed, all he ever wanted. He didn't go to school. He couldn't. There was a hole in his chest, sucking away all light, all strength.

All morning his phone kept buzzing, as Tom and Jess kept calling him, but Cody didn't even pick up. He didn't answer any of Tom's messages either. There was nothing to say. His heart was broken - but to say it like that felt like such an understatement. Tom wouldn't understand. No one would. 'Cause everyone went through breakups, right? It wasn't a big deal. No one would understand why he was such a mess, why he was dying, why he would not survive this pain, this loss, this suffering that was his alone. No one could help him to bear it.

The loneliness was killing him. He missed Sky more than he had ever thought possible. She was the other half of his soul that was now ripped off, brutally, mercilessly, leaving behind only pain and darkness.

She had tried to call him, but Cody didn't pick up. There was nothing she could say that would fix this, that would ease his pain. The thought of her was a sword through his heart. In a whim of desperate pain and anger, he deleted her messages, erased Sky's number from his phone, and blocked her on social media - so that in a moment of weakness he wouldn't reach out to her and write her the only thing he wanted to write, Please, please, please take me back, even if you'll never love me, I don't care, just please take me back. Without you I have nothing.

Later that night, Tom came to see him. Cody must have slipped into a restless sleep, because one moment he was alone, but when a splitting headache forced him to shift and open his eyes, Tom was there, standing in the doorway, asking if he could come in.