I recently go on a Sonny with a Chance kick... So yeah.
Day 53 of the breakup. Chad sighed as he marked another tally on the inside cover of his notebook. The notebook was originally intended for helping him memorize lines and write fan-mail and such, as it was given to him by his director, but the only thing he had written in it was tally marks, and he had no intention of changing that.
"Chad, we're on in ten!" He heard Penelope shout through his dressing room door. Sighing again, he tightened his Mack Falls' uniform tie and opened the door into the hustle and bustle of another shitty work day, kissing yet another co-worker's lips for the camera that didn't belong to who he wanted them to. He skipped breakfast- for the 53rd time in a row- and dallied to the set, ending up late as the director marked a big red L in his book, at the 53 mark. Chad Dylan Cooper had never been late in his life... before Sonny Monroe. He could practically hear the randoms mocking him already, comforting his Sonny after the ass he'd been. It wasn't the mocking part that bothered him, so much as the comforting. She didn't want him there to help her through her bad days, because he was the reason for them... not that she had any bad days anymore. In fact, she was her usual bubbly self. Even on day one of the breakup... she seemed happy. She was always happy.
The song 'Break Even' by the Script came on the speakers and Chad cursed under his breath. It had to be this song, didn't it? He would talk to the music operator later about his choice of songs. Who was he kidding? He never talked to anyone anymore. He came to work, said his lines, and retreated back to either his dressing room for the night, or home. Not that home was much better.
His parent's had been fighting nonstop since... well, as long as he could hear their arguments. Not just arguing, but yelling and screaming. The only reason they kept him around was because of his paycheck. Even then, they ignored him, and went back to their screaming until the neighbors called the cops or something. Sometimes he'd even be brought into the fight. Like last night, when his mom blamed him for her failed marriage, and his dad told him that they were going to disown him, since he was a mistake anyways. It was hard enough with the break-up, without having your parents tell you that they don't love you. On top of that, his pay had been cut and the Randoms had put out a new sketch of him, portraying him to be a destructive, evil person who cared about no one but himself. He was afraid that Sonny had written that... and she was wrong. He cared more about her.
Chad almost wanted to cry right then and there, remembering the previous night. But CDC didn't cry. CDC never cried. Only Chad did... who didn't come out unless he was alone.
"You okay?" his director asked. Chad nodded briskly. "Alright," he muttered, "Take one."
"How could you?" Chloe spit, "How could you do that to me?"
"Well how could you, Sonny? How could you think I could live without you?"
"Sonny?" Chloe asked, "Chad, that's not my name. Get your lines right."
He was getting really sick of her snobby attitude. She knew he was heart broken. She couldn't possibly take it out on him, could she?
"Fine, do the take again. Sorry Chloe." he spit.
"How could you?" she started again with her lines. He went through his in monotone, fearing that if he let in any emotion he would screw up again and say Sonny. Just her name alone brought back too many memories. Too many hopes.
"Cut!" The director yelled after the fourth of fifth scene,
"But we have eight scenes to do today!" Chloe objected, "We'll get behind schedule!"
"Chad Dylan Cooper, can I see you in my office?" the director asked, ignoring the demanding actress. Chad nodded again, he hated it when people used his full name. He didn't used to... but he did now.
"Look," The small man in the cliche french director's beret started when the office door closed, "I know you haven't really been yourself lately. I know you're the main character and all, but this is taking a toll on your acting ability. You can't just not work for your role. I pulled a lot of strings so that you could be Mackenzie... you're the only character who hasn't gone missing or died yet, and I'm starting to think that maybe it's time that you do."
"You want to... fire me?" Chad asked, appalled. This job was all he had left. It was the only way he could be close to her. The only way he'd get to see her at lunch and across the hall. It was his last hope of ever being with Sonny Monroe.
"I don't want to, but you're giving me no choice! You used to be the greatest actor of our generation... but now you're falling flat!"
"Please," he begged, "give me another chance. This job is it for me, I need this."
"Mackenzie..." Normally, Chad wouldn't really care that someone called him by his character's name, but it seemed to irk him now, for the 53rd day in a row. He has to refrain from spitting 'that's not my name' to the man.
"Please, " He said again, "You won't regret it."
"Alright. One shot. That's it. Now go home for the day before I change my mind."
Chad should've been happy, but he wasn't. Probably because the word home made his stomach sink. Or maybe because he didn't actually care about the job as much as being close to the reason, he wasn't planning a celebratory party anytime soon.
When he got back to his dressing room, he decided to crash there on his couch for the night, only to find the he couldn't sleep. So instead, he sat there, staring at his tallies. All 53 of them seemed to stare back at him mockingly. That was it for him. He went to his bathroom, and couldn't help himself any longer. He deserved this. He deserved pain and suffering. Slowly, he grabbed the razor and carefully marked 53 scars on his wrists. 53 bloody cuts. They weren't too deep... just enough to give him the pain he needed. He cleaned up quickly, letting his arms stop bleeding before climbing back to his sofa despairingly. He turned off his light and attempted to fall asleep again, but ended up just tossing and turning. Eventually, he just let himself cry. That was, until he heard the footsteps just outside his door. He lay still, hoping that if it were an intruder, they would pass him. He'd never heard of someone breaking into a dressing room, but maybe it was a crazy fan or something.
"Alright," he heard the all too familiar voice whisper to herself, "Just get it and get out."
"Sonny?"
"Chad?"
"What are you doing in my dressing room?"
"What are you doing, sleeping here at three am?"
Chad reached over to turn on the lights, staring at the beautiful girl openly for the first time in 53 days. Neither one of them spoke for a short while. They just looked at each other's eyes. He got lost in her chocolate brown orbs, and he swore that she saw nothing but crystal blue. He must have been seeing things though. There was no way that she missed him this much, too.
"I, uh, had some lines to look over," He mumbled, "Must have fallen asleep."
"Oh." She pretended not to see his script on the counter across the room, no where near him.
"So... why are you in my room?"
"I left a, um, prop here that we need on set tomorrow."
"I would've given it to you if you asked. You didn't have to break in here at three in the morning." He tried his best to give her a heartwarming smile. It was the first smile shown on his face in 53 days.
"Right. Well I didn't exactly break in. I still have a key. from that time... when we were dating."
The reminder stung, as if he didn't know that they used to be in love. That she used to be. As for him, he still very much was.
"Yeah. Well. What was the prop? I think I would've known if one was in here..."
"Well, Chad, I'm... I'm sorry. It's not mine. I was with Tawni. It was so stupid... I'm sorry."
"Sonny, what are you talking about?" He asked, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.
"I was supposed to get your uniform, for a sketch." She sighed, defeated. His heart sank.
"Oh. Another one of those." He tried not to break down. She was going to steal his stuff, and then use it to make fun of him on national tevelvision. Again.
"Yeah... but it looks like you fell asleep in yours." She sighed, looking down, "Oh my god."
"What?"
"Chad, you're bleeding."
"huh?"
"Look!" She pointed at his once white sleeves, now seeping through with red.
"Shit," He muttered.
"C'mon, just roll em' up. I think I have some band-aids in my bag..." She stared to shift through her purse. He did as he was told, not really thinking about the consequences.
"How did you... Oh my god." Her eyes widened in realization.
"Sonny, I can explain." He rushed through hsa words, "It's not what you think. I was on set today and-"
"Don't you dare lie to me." She spit.
"I wasn't-" He was only cut off again.
"How could you? Don't you know how horrible it is to do that to yourself? Oh my god... It's not because of me is is?"
He decided not to speak. Of course it wasn't because of her. But she was a part of it. A huge part. He needed her.
"Not everything's about you, Monroe," he tried to joke, but she glared.
"Now is not the time to joke about this. It's not funny, Chad! You need to get help for something like this! Hurting yourself isn't the answer... you can't do that."
"And why do you care?" He whispered.
"What?"
"Why do you care?" He reapeated, louder.
"How can you say that? You don't think I... How could you do that to me?"
"How could I do that to you? How could you, Sonny? How could you think I could live without you? You know what? It is your fault! You did this to me. 53 days off hell. That's what I went through."
She nodded, and looked down at his wrists. Solemnly, she started to wipe up the blood using napkins she found in her purse. She tried to put on bandaids, but her vision blurred with tears and she couldn't see what she was doing anymore.
"Sonshine..." He murmured, tilting her chin up to look at him, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. No, please don't cry honey."
"But it's my fault." He voice cracked, and her tears spilled down her cheeks, "I'm the reason that you're hurt."
"No... shh... I shouldn't have said that." He murmured, picking her up slightly to sit with him on the couch, "I'm fine."
"No- No you're not! Look at you..."
"I'm okay. I will be okay." He said stobbornly, and a tear of his own slipped out.
"Don't cry. Then I'll cry."
"You're already crying."
"nuh-uh."
"Uh-huh." He chuckled slightly, and she joined him.
"I missed you, Sonny."
"I missed you too, Chad."
"I'm broken."
"I'll fix you,"
"It might take a while."
"Good."
"Good."
"Fine."
"Fine."
And after 53 days, Chad started a new tally chart. And that first tally underneath the sheet titled 'Love' was the best thing he ever wrote down.
And Sonny Monroe was the best thing he ever had.
