DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hollyoaks or it's characters.

Hiya! Special thank you to everyone who reviewed my previous chapters. I love you guys! :)

Quick question: would you prefer me to post smaller chapters more frequently or longer chapters that take longer to post? Because, lately, I haven't had much time to write so I've been just writing small chapters so that I post regularly. Please let me know which you would prefer. Thanks!

Enjoy...

Brendan (One month later)

One month. One month since I last saw him, since I last heard his voice. It had been a month too long. It's funny that, when he'd first left, when I was standing, staring after him, I thought I wouldn't survive another minute without him. But here I was, a month later. It wasn't any easier. People say 'out of sight, out of mind'. What a lie. I hadn't saw him in a whole fucking month yet his face was still as clear in my mind as it had been for as long as I could remember. I couldn't recall ever not having his image burned into my mind, ever not having his voice echo in my head, ever not having his touch haunt my dreams.

I was broken. Life changed, after he left. I changed. Everyone noticed the change in me, those people who thought I'd gone docile, the ones who didn't think I was a psycho, they sharp changed their minds. People would cross the street to avoid me, people would purposefully not look in my direction to prevent eye contact. They were afraid. I didn't blame them. Since he left, I've been a bit..unstable. I'd fly of the handle at anyone, I couldn't control it. In my heart, where love used to be, now there was just rage. Pain and anger had consumed me. I was looking for someone to blame, I guess, and anyone was better than me. With him, Stephen, gone I was back to being the old me. I needed him to keep me sane, to remind me of how it could be, if I tried hard enough. But he wasn't here and I had to face my worst enemy, myself, alone. Even Cheryl noticed the change in me; she was more cautious around me, wary of saying the wrong thing and making me blow a fuse.

There were some nights, when I was lying in bed alone, that memories would play in my mind and I would let them, just to make sure that I still remembered everything about him; the taste of his tears as we kissed after an arguement, the heat of his body as he lay next to me, the sound of his hushed voice as we talked in the night, the exact shade of his blue eyes, the way his smile would light up his whole face and make him glow, the way he would never let anyone tell him what to do, the way his gentle fingertips could set my skin on fire, the way he always came back for me. Until that day, of course. Until then, he'd been mine. He'd always return to me because we belonged together. Those nights, the memories would overwhelmed me and, for a second, I could almost believe that life was still like that, that Stephen was still mine. But then, I'd blink and the memories would fade away and I'd remember the harsh reality. Those nights...I could swear I died inside.

I needed him, more than I cared to admit aloud, more than anyone, even Stephen himself, knew. I used to think that letting people close would make you vulnerable, make you weak. But that's exactly how I felt without him: weak, vulnerable, scared, alone. He was always there to support me, just by being there. Even when we fought, there was still hope because he was still there and, as long as he was there, then everything would be okay. Because, honestly, when we were so close it was only a matter of time before we were drawn back together again. But now, everything was uncertain. He was too far away. What if he forgot me, forgot everything we ever had? I wasn't there to remind him, I wasn't there to protect him, I wasn't there to hold him and kiss him and fuck him and make sure he always knew he was mine. What if he forgot that he was mine? That I am his? What if he found someone else and I wasn't there to show him that it was a pointless mistake to even think of being with anyone else, when I was here waiting for him? It was a mess, a painful, heart wrenching mess and it hurt. But I couldn't give up, couldn't let go of that thin strand of hope that I'd been clinging to since he left, the hope that he would come back. No matter how long it took, he had to come back. Because, if he didn't, I didn't know what I would do.

It was 11 o'clock at night and I was walking home from Chez Chez. I was no help in there right now, my thoughts of him were dominating my mind which only drove me to get a drink. One glass of whisky turned to two and two turned to three. Eventually, Cheryl told me to go home. I wasn't concentrating on where I was going and I collided with some kid. Well, I say kid but he was around twenty something.

"Whoa!" He yelled, stumbling, clearly a little tipsy himself. "Watch where ya going! Jesus!" He stumbled and some of the larger from the can he'd been drinking splashed on my suit,

Now, this really pissed me of. Maybe, if I was sober, it wouldn't have bothered me as much. Actually, that's a lie. Considering the mood I'd been in since Ste left, it would still have bothered me.

"Who d'ya think ya talkin' to?" I growled. Somewhere inside me, I knew I should have just left it and walked away but I wanted an arguement. There was so much tension inside me that I needed to release it somehow. I was just so angry, constantly, and I knew that I was really angry at myself for driving Stephen away but that didn't matter. I wanted to make someone else hurt as much I was hurting, I guess.

"You. Ya got a problem?" he smirked, thinking he was so clever.

"No," I smiled a smile that could only be described as menacing "but you will have in a minute."

"Ooh. Is that threat?" He shoved me. I didn't even move.

I punched him. It wasn't even my full strength, I'd hit Stephen a lot harder in the past yet he still fell.

At that point, I was just going to walk away. I mean, come on! This guy was hardly a match for me. But then he got back up, clutching his wounded face.

"You son of a bitch." he growled, aiming a punch at me. I caught his fist and pulled his arm up behind him, successfully rendering him incapable of movement.

"Wanna try 'n hit me again?" I asked.

"Get off!" He yelled.

"Why?" I laughed, "You were up for a fight a minute ago." I pulled his arm painfully and he yelped.

"Come on! Let me go!" He pleaded, not so tough now.

"I'm not sure 'bout that." I said.

"Brendan!" Cheryl's voice sounded angry, upset and something else...afraid. Was she scared of me? I looked at her. She looked pissed of, worried and yes, there was a trace of fear in her eyes. She should've known that I would never hurt her, at all! Had I really changed that much?

"Let him go Bren." She said, looking like she wasn't sure as to how I'd react.

I pushed the guy away. After shooting a glare at me, he stumbled away as fast as possible. Probably scared as hell. Oh well, not my problem. Cherly, on the other hand, was my problem.

"I can't believe you! You can't go around, hurting random people!" She yelled, "It's not right."

"He deserved it." I commented, slightly defensive of my actions.

"It doesn't matter." She sighed, "It's like I don't know who you are anymore. You're different and not in a good way. It all started when S-"

"Don't." I interrupted.

"You have to get over him, Bren. You can't go on like this! He's been gone a month and you weren't even together when he left. I understand."

Understand? How could she possibly understand? "Just leave me alone, Chez." I told her.

"No. I can't just sit back and watch you fall apart. I have to do something!" She persisted.

"Well, it's too late!" I yelled, before walking away while she protested behid me. She thought she could help fix me, turn me into who I was before. But I can't be fixed, I'm broken beyond repair. I'd been broken all my life but when I had Stephen...he made me feel whole again. Now, I felt more empty than ever.

Rachey Ayy xx