"This is the point where the story ends..." Lance mumbled, turning to face me. My heart was beating a million miles an hour but I couldn't cry. The entire night I'd held in all of my emotions, no matter how eager they were to get out. It was like I was trying to shove a lid on a full container. It wouldn't stay on, no matter how hard I tried and even if I jumped on it. The contents were inevitably going to spill. Lance was staring at me and I was staring straight back at him. I hoped he didn't notice the tears shining in my eyes.

"But what if I don't want it to end?" The container began to leak. I was trying to hold it in but no one could deny the desperation that filled my voice as my hand continued to grip onto Lance's. In my head, letting go was going to cause mass destruction. Letting go of his hand physically meant letting go of all the moments we had shared in the past month. Maybe the entire time was a rollercoaster and I was screaming at the top of my lungs but I couldn't even begin to pretend I didn't feel the exhilarating rush. Beforehand, I had been terrified to get onto the dodgy looking rollercoaster but, once I had gotten off of it, I wanted to ride it again and again.

"It needs to end. All we needed to do was get through tonight and we did it," Even in the dim moonlight, I was sure Lance could see my tears. I was staring at him with so much disbelief and crushed hope that I almost expected him to hug me or something. He didn't, of course, so I backed up slowly. "Thank you for doing this for me. It means a lot." I wanted to scream at him and fall to my knees, begging to be taken back but, instead, I ran.

I ran, thankful that I had chosen to wear trainers, even with a posh suit.

My legs were a blur beneath me and there could have been a chance I was beating the world record for the fastest sprinter. It took a few moments before it all kicked in and I began to cry. I was only a few streets away from home but I couldn't find it in myself to face Louise and John whilst I looked like a big baby. Louise was so happy to see me dress up and I didn't want her to see how hurt I was just yet.

I didn't want Louise to fuss over me either. John would probably just 'tut' at me and tell me to 'man up' because apparently that's a thing people still say, even in 2018. Louise would bombard me with a million questions. "Did you tell him how you felt?" "What's wrong?" "Was it Lance?" I couldn't even handle thinking about what she could ask.

I caught a glimpse of myself in a puddle and had never felt more ridiculous. My hair was a mess, even after I had spent about an hour shoving handfuls of gel in it. I had tear tracks covering my bright red cheeks that glistened in the moonlight. The person staring back at me was a mere shell of my happy, energetic self from just a few hours earlier. The bowtie and suit just made me feel like a complete joke. I might as well have been wearing clown makeup, a red nose and gigantic shoes. It wasn't like anybody would even notice a difference. I reached up and undid the bowtie, pulling it away from my shirt. I dropped it down into the puddle without even contemplating my actions before stamping on it as hard as I could.

If life was a movie, Lance would have come running after me, claiming he had made one of the worst mistakes of his life. It wasn't a movie and what was done was done. He had broken up with me after the deal had been over, just like I had suggested way back at the beginning of it all. I don't even know why I expected it to go any other way. No feelings were meant to be felt but, whilst it meant absolutely nothing to Lance, it meant everything to me. The deal was a mistake. It was childish and stupid and I should have known it would end in tears. It always did.

I didn't have the right to be this distraught but I sure did feel sorry for myself. I balled my hands into fists and used one to wipe away my tears. I really wanted to stop crying but I just couldn't. Tears just kept coming and my vision was beginning to go all blurred and there was absolutely nothing I could do except let it happen.

It had all felt so real. Our swaying to the slow songs that, just a few months ago, I would have said were so cheesy it made me feel sick; the smiles we constantly wore around each other and, most of all, the touches. All those times when Lance had slipped his hand into mine or gently rubbed my arm. How could that equate to nothing to the boy I had shared it all with?

I continued with my haste walk, the bowtie being left for someone to pick up and eventually throw away. The blue that had once been so soft and delicate had become brown and dirty and, to be honest, I couldn't have cared less. Well, that was a lie. It was probably the anger speaking, deluding the rationality that sat somewhere deep inside my tiny brain. Deep, deep down, I knew that I'd cry for the bowtie and what it meant as soon as I got to the safety of my bedroom.

I sat down on a bench I had passed a million times on the walk to school. It sat at the end of my street, usually occupied with a young mother and her child or surrounded by teenagers, chatting at a ridiculously loud volume. Despite seeing it on a daily basis, I rarely ever sat down there or even spared it a second glance. The view was ugly, to be entirely honest. It looked out onto a fairly busy road and a row of houses; it was hardly the ocean or the countryside.

No one even looked at me as they got on with their daily lives. I probably looked like I had broken out of a mental asylum or something. I was dressed in a fancy suit (that had been really expensive), crying my eyes out as if I wanted to drown in my own tears. Part of me really wished it was possible to drown whilst crying. It was better than whatever was waiting for me at home. The questions. The disappointed 'tut's. The whole, "I told you so".

I didn't realise I was freezing cold until I had entered the warmth of my house. It was like walking into an oven and I immediately let out a heavy sigh that had been building up for a while. A couple of people started to laugh at me so I decided to finally get up. Haha, funny. I've been let down a thousand times in my life and yet I never did learn. I built myself up on hopes and dreams, just to get somebody to tread on them the next day and push me back down to the size of an ant.

I heard the television in the living room on its usual unnecessarily loud volume and darted straight upstairs. I didn't even take off my shoes so that my parents couldn't tell I had come home. I entered my room, sniffing as the worst of the crying came to an end. I collapsed onto my bed and stared up at my ceiling like it was actually able to comfort me. Of course, it wasn't so I just laid there with the hope that the world would swallow me up completely. Of course, that didn't happen either.

At some point- I had lost track of time completely- Louise came into my room. Usually, I'd have wiped away the evidence of a breakdown and put on a brave face but not today. I didn't care if she saw me: I didn't care about anything except my heart that was on the floor, smashed into thousands of pieces. "Oh, honey..." She said in a soft voice that she always used on someone who was upset. She sat beside me so I immediately clung to her like a koala. I sobbed so loudly that I was sure John could hear it from downstairs, even over the blaring TV but I didn't care. So what if he found out about me and Lance? We didn't have anything anymore and nothing mattered to me anymore.

This was a good example of catastrophisation. Lance had told me about the world after he had come across it when learning about depression in his psychology class. I'm not saying I was depressed but I certainly was taking things way out of proportion. One dude wasn't exactly going to ruin my life- even if it felt like it. Louise's shirt was drenched by the time my sobs died down. I liked that she just remained silent until the worst of it was over and I could finally speak. Then she asked questions. They weren't as interrogative as I expected. More gentle to ensure I knew of her concern. "Did you tell him?"

I shook my head, closing my eyes and focusing on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. When did breathing become some complicated?

"What happened then?"

"He broke up with me." That was it, I was off again. Louise began to rub my back in circles like she would have when I was going through the grief of losing my father. She had been really supportive, even if I was a nuisance and didn't ever want to be accepted into a new family. She had been there through the rough patch and she was still here. I loved her and I trusted her to support me through anything... or almost anything. She was brilliant at soothing and distracting me from my mind that was currently throwing the most depressing party ever.

I tried to focus on her warm touch and the input to my other senses. I couldn't smell anything. I could only see blackness because my eyes were closed. I could hear my own sobbing and sniffing and Louise's gentle breathing beside me. She sighed every so often. I couldn't taste anything except my own saliva. My mouth felt dry and hoarse thanks to the crying but I could still taste the saliva- if there was even a taste to it. Who knew my own saliva would distract me for a moment?

"Oh, come here," She wrapped me into another hug. Her arms were so warm and they were the exact definition of home for me. I felt safe and like nobody was going to hurt me. "You need to talk to him. I know it's hard but you can't keep bottling these feelings up like this."

"I wish I didn't feel like this. I'm such a bad person." I buried my face into her shoulder, taking in her gentle scent. It was a weak perfume that smelt sweet like vanilla. I had always liked the smell of vanilla, ever since I was a kid and favoured vanilla ice cream (unlike many of the other kids who loved chocolate). I also had a vague memory of my mum smelling like vanilla but she left way when I was really young so I had probably just made it up. I liked to believe I had an extravagant memory.

"You are not a bad person. You did a really lovely thing by going through with this fake dating malarkey. You're an amazing friend to Lance and I'm sure he doesn't want to lose you. Even if he rejects you, you still have to remain friends. You've known each other for ages and that sort of friendship isn't something you throw away so easily."

"He's going to hate me, Lou..."

"He won't and I know it. How about you tell him tomorrow? You can think about what you're going to say tonight and even write a mini speech if you'd like. Invite him over for dinner and tell him then." I nodded, struggling to find words anymore. She reached out and squeezed my hand. "He won't hate you, Keith, I promise."

"Okay." I managed to mumble before she squeezed my hand a second time. She was the best possible person to have adopted me and I was so grateful. I never wanted to lose her.

"Do you want some hot chocolate? I can even send John down to the shop to get marshmallows and cream if you want. I know you like your sugar."

For the first time in my life, I shook my head and turned down a hot chocolate. "I- I'd rather just sleep."

"Okay, honey. I love you." She leaned forward and kissed my forehead; something she hadn't done in a long time. I smiled ever so softly to show her that I appreciated everything she had done- and was doing- for me.

"Love you too." Then she left and I climbed back under my covers, still in my suit. I pulled them over my head to drown out the outside world until I miraculously fell asleep an hour or so later.