A/N: Heyyy, guys! Well, I miss Cophine so much that I've decided to start working on a new story. I just took my laptop and started typing, so I have no idea where this is going. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

"Owwwwwwww! Fuck, fuck, fuck," I hiss right after I hit my face against the side of my closet and almost break my glasses.

I wonder if my life could get any worse or not. Probably it could and the saddest part is that it definitely will.

I am supposed to be happy, though. I've got a roof over my head, I can afford to eat anything I want, I have a well-paying job, I'm a highly educated person.

But I'm not. Happy I mean.

And whenever I feel down or miserable, everybody blurts out a simple

"WHY"?

I don't have the answer to this stupid why, excuse me if I don't have answers to all of the world's questions. Do you necessarily need to have some kind of a terrible disease or get kidnapped in order to have the right to feel sad? Depressed? Pathetic? Or is it possible that having everything that should make a person happy just isn't enough?

I take a sip of my favourite cocktail and look around my smoke filled room.

It screams emptiness.

Maybe being alone is a key issue here. I don't even know anymore. My mom says it's my fault I'm lonely and all by myself because I made a decision to be gay.

"Made a decision," I whisper to myself and chuckle immediately.

Yes, one day I went for a walk and it hit me – I want to be gay because it's getting more popular nowadays. Or at least that's what my mommy thinks.

However, it's not important anymore because I gave up on love years ago. I thought I already had it all; a bright future, an amazing soon-to-be wife, great kids on the way. Boy, never have I been so wrong. She left me the day before our bachelorette party. Sounds like magic, huh?

So, here I am, completely alone in a huge apartment surrounded by sheer darkness and misery. I fill myself with shitloads of alcohol and definitely enjoy the pure bliss of smoking weed.

"Ouch… I have lost myself aaagain. Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found…" I sing to Sia's probably the saddest song ever while slowly taking a puff.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"What the…" I suddenly hear a loud banging on the door. I gather all of my strength and barely manage to stand up. I stumble across the room and finally reach the door. I practically rip them out and stare at the person in front of me.

"WHAT?" I rage because there isn't a single person in the world whom I'd be willing to deal with at this point.

"How could you miss work again?!" the person now lashes out.

"Is it morning already?" I giggle and plop down onto the couch.

"What is going on with you? Look at yourself… Look at your place. Cosima…" his voice trails off. I actually bothered to look and I have to say that I need to take out the trash. Oops.

"Nothing. NO-THING is going on with me. Piss off, Scotty-boy," I might as well bite his head off anyways.

"What's gotten into you? I wanna help. Just let me, please," he simply ignores my verbal abuse. "If you keep doing this, you could get fired."

"Well, maybe I do not care," I simply shrug and let out an unexpected laugh.

"Cosima, I know you care," Scott sighs and sits down next to me. "Would you please consider getting professional help?"

"Professional help? Like a shrink? Ha!" I wave my hands in the air and snicker. "You, my friendly friend," I point directly towards him, "are especially ridiculous tonight."

"You need to sleep this off, Cosima," he says and tries to put me to sleep. "I know someone who can help you. Please. Think about it."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks, mom," I now mumble and feel myself drifting off to sleep.

"Holy watershed," I open my eyes and feel nothing but a sharp pain in my head. "Jesus…" I whine and I swear to god I've never felt so bad in my life.

"For fuck's sake!" I do my best to get up but my plan doesn't work. I pick up my phone and check the time.

4:00 am. 15 missed calls and 10 new messages.

"Great. Fucking great."

The last thing I remember is Scott coming over here. He kept bugging me about some sort of help… God, I'm so consumed with guilt right now. I shouldn't have treated him this way. I really must be a terrible person.

And this is how all of my days usually start. Being overwhelmed with guilt, regret and pain, which leads to excessive drinking and getting high just to shut my mind off. Just to forget. To make it stop.

I immediately dial Scott's number and wait for him to pick up.

"Come ooooon, where are you?" Then I realize what time it is. "Stupid. That I surely am." My words are followed by a facepalm.

"Hello? Cosima?" I hear a concerned voice at the other end of the line.

"Oh, fuck, Scott, yeah, hi," I blurt out incoherently.

"Is everything okay?"

"No. No, no, no. I…" Suddenly I feel hot tears falling off of my face. "I need help. I need to get rid of this fucking misery, Scott. Please, please," I tell him chocking back sobs.

"Cosima, it's gonna be okay. I promise. We'll get you all the help you need, just calm down," Scott reassures. "I'll come over in like an hour, okay? We'll clean up and you have to pull yourself together. We'll fix this."

I have to admit that those words were of no use for me. But at least I was ready to face the reality and the bitterness of it.