"Sonny... I miss you. Please call me..."

That's how they always end. She gets the voicemails at least eight times a day. He won't stop.

What's wrong with him? She asks herself each time. She decides to indulge herself every tuesday and friday. She allows herself to sit in her room with a box of tissues and a tub of Ben and Jerry's and his tv show playing on mute. That's when she allows herself to listen to all of the voice mails and cry her eyes out.

She'll never let him know how much she's hurting without him. She'll never let him see her cry every tuesday and friday until two in the morning when her mother always knocks quietly on the door, asking if she needs to talk. She always turns down the offer, and then turns the light out and cries herself to sleep.

The cycle never stops.

Monday- Pain.

Tuesday – Faking it.

Wednesday- Avoidance.

Thursday- 'I don't need you'.

Friday- tired.

Saturday- Withdrawl from the world.

Sunday- Distraction.

Her life is a living hell. When she sees him, she hides or turns the other way. She avoids him and any conversation with him at all costs. Multiple times he'd come to her house, but she never answered and never allowed her mother to answer either. She knows that if she allowed herself to speak to him she'd throw everything out the window and take him back.

The cast members tried to help her at first, but a few weeks into it, they began to realize that it was a lost cause. She was too broken, too far gone for them to fix. At least one of them calls her each day, asking in a concerned voice 'Are you okay?' to which her reply would always be the same 'Silly goose. I've never been better.' Even though she knows she's not.

On Saturday's, her withdrawl from the world, she watches home videos of the two, videos they'd made together where he would constantly check his hair and would be kissing her cheek every two minutes. Between the pain she feels on Friday and Saturday's, Sunday is always wary. Just her trying to distract herself from everything she went through during the weekend. Sometimes Tawni and Zora would come over and bring pizza. They wouldn't comment on her red eyes or her distant expression. They'd merely stick a movie in the dvd player and hand her a slice of pizza.

She was grateful for that, really she was, but she knew they probably thought she was crazy. No one obsessed so much over a boy.

Unless you love him.

And that's why they still trudge over to her apartment every Sunday. Even when she's in a horrible mood and doesn't even let them in. They just stand on the other side for a minute, before setting the pizza down in front of the door, shouting out a 'Call us' (Even though they all knew she wouldn't), and walking away.

It was a Friday. She was sitting in her room, ice cream all over her face, salty from being mixed with the tears, MacKenzie Falls was playing on mute on her TV, and his voice was filling her ears.

"Sonny, I know you don't want to talk to me... But I miss you. Don't you miss me? I bet you do, I mean, who could resist this face. I'm sorry. Please call me."

"Sonny, why won't you talk to me? Come on. I miss you. Please call me."

"Sonny... I hope you hear this. I have something for you. I don't know when you'll hear this so I've hidden it in a safe place where you can easily find it. Don't be mad, but I was in your apartment,"

She gasped and her face turned pale as she listened.

"Your mom let me in. She's worried about you by the way. Anyway, Please, just this once. Can you do as I say? It's simple. You only have to do one thing for me. Look under your bed."

Cautiously, she sets the tub of ice cream down and gets off of her bed. She bends over and lifts the sham, lookin under her bed. There's a box. It's wrapped with a sparkling red bow on top. Honestly, the wrapping is horrible. And that's how she can tell he did it by himself.

She pulled the box out from under her bed and set it on her bed before climbing on her bed and picking up her phone. She snapped it shut without listening to the rest of the messages, this seemed more interesting.

Warily, she pulled one string of the ribbon and it gracefully fell apart. She ripped the wrapping paper off of the box and threw it on the ground. She took a few deep breaths, whatever it was it was in a box with a top. She could feel her hands shaking as she slowly set them on top of the top. She took another breath before pulling the top off of the box.

Inside, there was every season of MacKenzie Falls, in order. She scoffed when she pulled it out, she took the whole stack of dvds and threw them across the room. They crashed into her wall and fell down to the ground. She looked back in the box and pulled out two picture frames. One, of course, was a picture of him. Signed like an autograph. May the falls be with you. - Chad Dylan Cooper.

Tears fell down her face as she looked at his face, smiling back at her, mocking her. She felt like he was out having a good time and making the most of his life while she sat in her room and cried over him. She could feel her anger, rising like the temperature. She let out a loud grunt and chucked the picture at the wall, she threw it so hard it made a large dent in the wall. She didn't care, The picture slide down and she could see that the glass from it was broken and some of the glass was trickling down over the MacKenzie Falls dvds. His face, which before was smiling and happy, now was crinkled and made it look like he was frowning. She smiled a small smile to herself as she looked at the momentos, before turning back to the second picture.

This one, was a picture of her and him, and instantly she felt her heart drop and the pain, from crying, in her stomach intensified. She felt like her lungs were strangling her. She couldn't speak. In the picture, her hair was falling everywhere, somehow making her look happy and carefree. Her smile was big and her body language, of leaning into him with both of her hands around her neck, hugging him, was love filled. His expression and body language also looked of happy, gleeful love. She scowled, the tears in her eyes falling more and more, clouding up her vision so that the picture was blurry and she could hear her tears fall and plop onto the picture.

Plop, plop, plop.

Get a hold of yourself Sonny. It's over between you two. You don't care. She told herself, using her other hand to wipe away the tears, but they came right back. She set the picture down, on her pillow and focused on getting rid of the tears that wouldn't stop falling from her eyes. She heard sobs and realized that they were coming from her.

She kicked the box and it fell to the ground near her bed. She had thought the pictures were the last thing in th box but out of her peripheral vision she saw an envelope fall from the box. She looked at it in shock, debating reading it or just letting it sit there.

She couldn't take it. She was tired of the charade and tired of pretending the didn't care about him. The tears seemed to lessen as she looked down at the envelope.

After a long while of debating everything in her head, she reached down and grabbed the letter. It felt smooth in her hand and she ran her fingers over the smooth, cream colored envelope for a few moments.

After a few minutes, she carefully opened the envelop, pulling a page out and carefully un-folding it.

Sonny,

I am well aware that you aren't talking to me. I was a jerk. An irresistable jerk... but a jerk nonetheless. Maybe I should have treated you better. Or maybe I shouldn't have dogged on our show so much (even though it is kinda suckish sometimes). Maybe I should have spent more time on my hair... Maybe I should have been more handsome for you.

I should have done a lot of things. There were times when I was selfish and I didn't treat you right. There are words I should have said to you but I never did. There are things I should have done for you, that I was too busy obsessing over my looks and my hair to do.

Being beautiful is a lot of work for me. You roll out of bed in the morning and you're already stunning. Do you know why I focus so much on my hair and my looks? Well, mostly because I'm arrogant and self centered. But a lot of the reason is because I want to impress you. I want to walk down the street with you and seem like I fit. I want to be a compliment to your beauty, not a blemish.

It's hard for me to express my feelings. I didn't leave this in a voicemail because I would have messed it up and found a way to sound stupid. In writing, I can be clear and I can be al mushy, because you can't see me.

If you only knew that when you look at me, my knees wobble. I get so nervous, and when I get nervous, I mess with my hair or look at myself in a mirror. I can't help it. If you could see how absolutely gorgeous you are, then you would be nervous too.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I was wrong. I treated you wrong and I acted wrong. I've been going to a therapist. She's helping me learn to focus more on the people I love and stop obsessing over myself so much. See, that's why i sound smarter, because I'm acting smarter.

Every part of me wants you to take me back. I want to hold you in my arms and never let go. I don't want you to keep avoiding me. I leave voice mails on your phone so I can hear your voice for that ten seconds, telling me to leave a message. It's the highlight of my day. But I can't ask you for that. I can't ask you to forgive you unless you want to forgive me. I don't want you to forgive me out of guilt or pressure from me to make you feel better. I want you to forgive me because you truly forgive me.

I'm sorry. I'll stop writing now and let you get back to your life or whatever. I just want you to know that I will always be here for you. I will wait for you. I'll support you. And if you want someone else, I'll be happy for you.

I Love You, Sonny.

I should have said that a long time ago. It feels great coming from my mouth. I love you, Sonny. And I really do. I love you, I miss you, and I'm there for you.

Love,

Chad Dylan Cooper

Before she could change her mind, she was throwing her jacket on, stuffing the note in her pocket, and slipping a pair of flip flops on, not caring what the weather was. She yelled , "I'll be right back," and threw the door open, hurtling herself outside before her mother could stop her. She raced to the front door of the apartment and pulled that door open, stepping out into the dark night. She felt rain pour down on her but she barely felt it as she broke into a run across the parking lot.

She was sure she was a sight to see- running down the street in the rain in flip flops and pajamas- but she didn't care. She ran down the familiar street, to the familiar apartment.

She didn't concentrate on falling and getting hurt, she set all of her attention on getting there. And maybe that's a part of life. Maybe sometimes you just need to stop worrying about how you'll get there, or if you'll get hurt along the way; you just have to focus on getting there.

She was soaking and panting by the time she entered the apartment building. A woman who was getting her mail looked at her, but she ran right past her. She took the stairs two at a time, she felt her hopes lift when she saw his door. She ran right up to it and knocked frantically, not stopping until she heard movement on the other side and the door was pulled open.

Part of him looked shocked, but part of him didn't look surprised at all. A part at the back of her brain told her that she was soaking wet and she was forming a puddle on his door step, but at the moment, she didn't care. Behind him, she could see into his apartment, it looked the same since the last time she was there. She could smell popcorn behind him and could see the shadows of the TV playing on the wall.

He was looking at her. He looked like he'd been home all day, watching TV. He was wearing his boxers and a T-Shirt that said 'Starstruck'.

"Sonny? Um, do you want to come in-" He started but once he spoke her attention went back to his face and she quickly interrupted.

"Did you mean it?" She said urgently, standing on his door step, drenched, and completely vulnerable. She placed her heart on his reply and knew that if he said no then she would be worse than before. This could destroy her. She couldn't take any more pain, if she let herself, she'd drown in a world of pain. And she just wouldn't be able to pull through if he broke her heart again.

She held her breath as she anticipated his reply. His face broke out into his signiature smile and she felt her heart melt as his eyes penetrated hers.

"Every word." He smiled wider, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside his apartment, his life, and his heart.