Once In A Lifetime (Katy Perry/John Mayer Fanfic)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Broken Promise

JOHN'S POV

"Shannon... I've just made a huge mistake," I said dreadfully, feeling so ashamed of myself I couldn't even bring myself to look Katy's best friend in the eye. I was so disappointed in myself.

"What do you mean?" She asked as she fiddled with the zipper of her sweater, giving me a curious look. The poor woman - she'd only just got to the hospital five minutes ago. The past however many hours I'd spent waiting for her arrival, avoiding Katy after what happened - felt like forever. I had never hated myself more than I did right now. She didn't deserve to see me like that, to see me lose it. I wanted to apologise, so badly. But I couldn't get her words out of my head... You're just like Russell.

I'd tried so hard to prove to her, to show her I wasn't like that pathetic excuse for a human being. I was better than him... Wasn't I? Now it was all in question. I loved Katy more than anything. I would have never gotten that heated if I didn't care. I cared too much, and that ruined everything.

I put the blame on her. When it was my fault. I was the one who cheated, I was the one thinking I wouldn't get caught. I didn't know how to say no, and that was my biggest problem. I guess some people never change.

"If I tell you... You're going to hate me..." I said nervously, feeling like an idiot. "But you'd be absolutely right by doing so."

"What's going on? What've you done, John?" She patiently asked, her brunette eyes sparkling with worry. Not only was she worried about her best friend, who'd just been in a major car accident - but she was about to find out why, and who did this to her... And it was my fault.

"I..." I tried to get out, a lump forming at the back of my throat. Suddenly it was if I couldn't speak a word of my own language, I didn't know how to communicate. I guess because I didn't. I didn't know how to confess something when the guilt was already eating me alive. Tears, once again sprung into my eyes. I couldn't help it. I had never felt this awful. There was a disgusting feeling in my stomach - like I wanted to throw up. My hair was knotted and ratty due to the sweat on my scalp and how many times I'd combed my fingers through it out of sheer stress and nervousness. My cheeks were stinging, a result of the red, fresh sores I'd inflicted on myself in the ambulance. Though I'd been given stitches for them by this point, I was in an incredible amount of pain.

But my physical pain was absolutely minuscule compared to my emotional pain.

My face was dirty, and sweaty. My eyes a puffy red, everything swollen. I looked like I'd a severe allergic reaction to something. I wanted to get out of here, out of this hospital. The longer I stayed here, the more the guilt ate me alive. The fact I was here, in the same place as Katy - and we weren't together. That I wasn't holding her hand, or giving her sweet kisses to comfort her.

She must be scared sick - she looked in a horrible condition. Scratches and stitches all over her face, her legs in some form of cast, her arms both connected to drips hanging down beside the bed. None of those things I seemed to notice when I walked in. If I had... I wouldn't have said any of those things. I would've realised how unfair it is to fight with the woman you love, while she's very much fighting for her life. I would give anything to go back in time and change things, but some things were just impossible. I knew I had lost her, well and truly.

This was the first relationship I'd been in - probably ever - that I felt this way in. I wanted to be with Katy every moment of every day, and when we weren't together it felt as if something was missing. She made me happy. She was the first one to care about me enough to help me place my feet on the right track toward better health. All I cared about, before her, was drugs and alcohol. They were my only therapy.