Sorry but here's some self-indulgent angst made while listening to edgy musicals :)

You sat on your bed, letting your tears roll down your face. How had it come to this? How did you let things get so bad? You kept thinking of all the good times you had together. All the stupid and offensive jokes, all the nervousness and euphoria of being around him. Now it was all gone.

You didn't know how you let him find out. You didn't even know how you'd become friends with a guy like him, and you knew he'd never like you in the same way. Nevertheless, you couldn't stop your feelings for him. You were in your fourth period theatre with him, and you were lucky enough to be in a group with him to complete the assignment.

Now, you had always carried around a journal to write in when you were overly upset and needed to vent, or when you needed to calm yourself down from a mania. Currently, you were doing the latter, getting your feelings about him out so that you wouldn't start squealing and blushing and giggling. You still were, however, grinning as you wrote down every reason you liked him.

'His eyes are so beautiful,
and, god, that smile kills me.
I just want to get to know him better.
I want to hear everything about his life.
I want to be the person he can talk to about anything.
He's so sweet no matter how bitter his past was.
He's always strong even in the worst of situations.
He stays confident even when people are talking him down.
I know that can't be the end of everything, though.
He can't just be unaffected by things like that.
It's clear that he has self-esteem issues.
He's always trying to impress everyone.'

You frowned, noticing how bitter your writing had become, but you continued.

'I wish I knew him better.
I've only known him three months, but it feels like forever.
I don't even know if he acknowledges me yet.
I think he does, I always laugh at his dumbass cute jokes.
I mean, he talks to me sometimes.
But we're not 'friends'
I don't think.
I want to know all about his past.
It's clear there's something broken within him.
I know I have a tendency to try to fix problems that aren't mine,
But I feel like I owe it to him.
I don't know why, though.
All I want is to lay on the grass with him in the middle of the night,
Gazing at the stars with him,
Talking about nothing in particular.
Just talking.'

You were almost satisfied with the way you'd finished your passage, and you smiled softly at the paper.

That's when someone snatched the notebook.

You gasped, quickly bolting up from your chair and launching yourself over F/N, who'd taken the book. Trying to grab your notebook from your friend, your hand narrowly missed the book as it cut through the air in a desperate attempt to save your personal thoughts from being seen.

"Hey, C/N! Catch!" They called out, and you could've sworn your eyes dilated. You were still sprawled over your friend's lap, your arm extended from when you tried to get your notebook. Your eyes darted over to C/N who was chuckling softly as he caught the notebook.

You sat up, your whole face heating up as you stood up helplessly, "C/N d-don't read that!!" but it was too late. He'd already opened the book to where your pen was being used as a bookmark, and he was staring at the page with a quizzical look.

He looked up at you, confused but calm. "Y/N.." he started slowly as you felt your body start to tremble. You thought you were going to collapse right then and there. "Did you write this about me?"

You nervously burst into arrogant laughter, "C-C/N! How damn conceited are you? God, you really think I'd ever write about you, especially something like that!" You grabbed your book from him, folding your arms. You were relieved that you'd saved your secret, but one look at C/N and you knew you'd done something wrong.

He was staring at you, his face neutral but his jaw clenched. He sighed, "Y/N, I really thought... Whatever. I knew you never gave a shit about me anyways. I hope you do get to do all that with him, whoever he is," he calmly stated. You could've sworn he was subtly glaring at you, but you knew for a fact his eyes had glazed over and he was on the verge of tears.

You rolled your eyes at him and walked back to your seat, internally cursing at yourself. How could you do something like that! Why didn't you just admit to it!? How could you be so damn stupid! The rest of the class period you sat at your seat, staring at your lap. Why were you so mean to him? Why could you never seem to be yourself around him. You were always either arrogant and bitchy or quiet.

You sighed, only one thought going through your head.

You'll never be good enough for him, will you?