I used to think one day we'd tell the story of us – how we kissed that day on the beach and made my head spin round for the rest of the afternoon – and people would say, 'They're the lucky ones – the nought and the Cross who fell in love and stuck together through it all.'

I used to know my place was the one next to you, even at your house, but now I can't find the Callum I used to know, because ever since I called you a blanker we don't seem to be on the same page.

A little complication that is our society, miscommunication on my part has lead us to a fall out. There's so much I wish you knew, but too many walls up for me to break through.

Next Chapter.

How'd we end up this way? I'm pulling at my Jackson Spacey dress and you're doing your very best to avoid me. I think one day I'll tell the story of us – how I'm losing my mind that no one wants me here even though I just wanted to pay my respects to a girl I used to be close to, but you're holding your pride like you should be holding me! I'm scared to see the ending; why are we pretending that this isn't happening? I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how; I've never heard silence quite this loud…

This is looking like a contest across the whole room of who can act like they care less, but I preferred it when you were on my side. The battle's in your hands now, and I would lay my armour down if you said you'd rather not fight. There are so many things that you wish I knew but, Callum, the story of us might just stop short.

And now I'm standing alone in this crowded room and we're not speaking. I'm dying to know, is it killing you like it's killing me? I don't have a clue what to say now. I came in here with the whole conversation and explanation planned out in my head but I didn't anticipate this twist of fate. We're breaking down before my eyes. The story of us looks a hell of a lot like a tragedy now, Callum.

The End.