A/N: I'm back! I hope you all will like this new story! It's something that has just been on my mind for a while now, so I just wanted to put it in words. Unlike my other story, this one will be solely told in BPOV. This story is also very AU, but I promise it will be worth your while to read it. It is labeled angst and romance for a reason, so if that's not your thing, then I'm warning you now. THIS IS A VERY ANGSTY STORY! I hope you all enjoy! See you at the bottom.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.

Any mistakes are mine.

"But you went away. How dare you? I miss you. They say I'll be okay, but I'm not going to ever get over you." – Miranda Lambert "Over You"

Prologue

BPOV

August 2011

If you've ever woken up hating yourself, then this is a story for you.

I was twelve years old when my parents died in a car accident. They were on their way to see me perform in some stupid high school play. It was raining cats and dogs outside and their car slipped on the road and collided with a power pole, which fell on them, crushing them instantly.

The EMTs that arrived at the accident later told me that my parents' death was instant, that they didn't feel anything that happened. Like that's supposed to make me feel any better.

For months, all I had talked about was that stupid play my high school was doing, Hercules. I wasn't even the lead. I was one of the background singers who basically narrate the whole play, but nevertheless, I was excited. And why my school thought it would be cool to do a Disney play at Christmas time is beyond me, but whatever floats their boat.

I had always wanted to go into theatre like my parents. Both my mom and my dad were on Broadway – that's how they met. They fell in love on and off stage. They wanted me to follow in their footsteps and I did for a little while. I was the youngest girl to perform in Miss Saigon, the musical on Broadway that my parents starred in. They loved that we performed it together.

But that ship sailed a long time ago.

They've been dead for four years come Christmas Eve.

For four years I've been living with my parents' best friends, friends they met on Broadway, Carmen and Eleazar Bell. Although they've been the best stand-in parents I could ask for, they aren't my own. While my mom and dad had retired from showbusiness when I was ten, Carmen and Eleazar continued performing. I didn't want to intrude on their work, like I did when I was younger with my parents, so I stayed at their house, alone, for almost all of my high school years.

You know what sucks the most about being alone? You have time to think about and analyze everything and every action that has gotten you to this point in your life, which is why I hate myself. I was the reason my parents died. I was the reason my parents quit doing what they loved, performing. I was the reason we moved out of New York City where all of their friends were and into the suburbs. Me. They turned their life completely around because of me. They gave up their happiness because of me.

I ruined their life. I'm the reason their dead. Me. I'm responsible and now it's time for me to pay the consequences.

A/N: Did you like it? Please review and tell me what you think!