Online. [benedict cumberbatch]

8

'@IDontEvenKnowAnymore: maybe things didn't work for a reason. Maybe that reason was me.'

Here I was. Back on set. Ready for Steven. I was meeting him at 11:00, so I was 2 minutes early. It was so quiet. Filming had been cancelled since I'd left, you can't really do a show with out it's star. Whoops. That sounded big headed.

My palms were slightly sweaty as I knocked on the door of Steven's office. A stiff "come in," came from inside.

I shakily walked in and faced him.

"Ah, Benedict. How have you been?"

I had to refrain myself from screaming that I'd been shit. Instead, I faked a sweet smile and muttered "fucking brilliant."

He raised his eyebrows, "I think you know why you're here?"

"Not exactly," I shot back.

"You need to come back, we have to continue filming."

"You were the one who told me to leave," I laughed at him.

"I was having a bad day, okay. Just forget that conversation ever happened."

"Whatever, I'll be back to this shitty job monday," I stood up and began to walk out.

"Benedict?" He called after me.

"What?"

"Are you okay? Don't bullshit me here, there's something seriously making you upset at the moment. You've been like this for awhile. I realise I've not been the best person to you, but I'm still here for you if you need someone to speak to."

For a single moment I wanted to tell him everything, to break right there in front of him. I didn't want to be the broken mess I was. I sighed.

"Goodbye, Steven."

--

1:00am

Why do people hate me? What did I do wrong? I've tried so hard. So, so hard.

There's so many messages which people say such hateful things on. As a celebrity you often get asked how you deal with hate, I've always said I just brush it off or that it doesn't really bother me. It does. Every single comment is like a stab in my chest.

I slid down the bathroom wall covering my face in my hands, barely audible cries escaping my chewed lips.

I slowly turned my head to the counter.

No.

My hand slowly crept up the counter and grabbed on to the familiar sharp object.

No.

I slit it cross my wrist.

Cut. Cut. Cut.

I almost screamed from the pain, but kept going.

Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut.

I started to struggle to breath. My vision became hazy and black dots began to fill my sight.

I passed out.