This is a very long, completely pointless one-shot. So enjoy. :)
Inspiration: I listened to the first few lines of the song "Nothing Better" by Postal Service and was inspired to write this.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sonny with a Chance.
It's All Chad's Fault
Sonny's Point of View
Feeling more like a bleeding paper cut than a sun, I got out of my mom's car and walked into Condor Studios and dragged my feet with each step. The last thing I wanted to do was go back in there. Going back in there would mean I would probably end up seeing him again.
Last Friday, my boyfriend from another show that shot in Condor Studios broke up with me. Through a sticky note stuck to the corner of my mirror. No, I'm not joking. It was plain and yellow with fifteen words scrawled on it in what I used to think was the most beautiful handwriting in the world. Now it was ugly and messy and cruel. Somehow, now each end and point of the jagged letters written down on that one sticky note were each a separate little dig into my heart.
The fifteen words were nothing more than this:
Things aren't working out between us. We're done. See you in the Commissary.
Needless to say, I was crushed by this beyond belief. Nothing bad had happened between us, nothing at all to indicate that "things weren't working out." I was dying to ask what I had done wrong or what had gone wrong, but I knew I couldn't, and I wouldn't. Not only was I too chicken, but I didn't really want to know. It almost made the entire situation worse, because it was like one of those silent fights, where you're not on speaking terms, but you're not "officially" fighting.
The door felt heavy to my weak arms as I pulled the glass door to the studio open and trudged across the threshold. I didn't want to be there. But I had to. Not only was I bound by my So Random contract, but my mom had recently lost her job and was struggling to find another one. To put it simply, my paycheck was the only thing keeping food on the table, a roof over our heads, and the bill collectors off our phones. She had never actually said it and neither had I, but we both knew it was true. More unspoken words.
As I walked through the halls to get to So Random's set, I hugged myself. I felt sick, but it wasn't the kind of sick you could go to the doctor and get medicine for.
Over the weekend, I had been so reserved, hadn't been in the mood to eat anything solid (meaning I lived on soup for three days), and had apparently been looking more ghostly than human from the looks of my skin, that my mom actually did take me to the doctor. Nothing was wrong internally of course. I could've told my mother that. In fact, I did. All the way to the doctor's office.
The doctor had asked me if there was anything else bothering me, and me being me, I opened up to him as though he were the guy that did my hair (you know because everyone always talks to their hair stylists about their problems). Maybe I had been an open book to him because I didn't really have anyone like that other than my mom.
I watched myself walking down the halls to the set. Right, left, right, left, right- ouch! Floor.
My backside hurt as I crawled to my feet in a droopy fashion and somehow I mustered up enough feeling from within my numb body to shoot a glare at the person who had mauled me down. Never mind the fact that I had been staring at my feet instead of where I was going. At the moment, that was beyond irrelevant.
"Chad," I greeted bitterly, interlacing venom into the one syllable name.
"Sonny," Chad's tone was less poisonous and more surprised.
I could tell with one look at his expression that he had no clue whatsoever as to why I was being unusually harsh to him. I flashed back to the conversation I'd had with Dr. Allen during my checkup on Saturday.
"And you know that it's completely Chad Dylan Cooper's fault that this happened to me," I said vehemently, gripping the worn out padded chair underneath me.
Dr. Allen's eyebrows collided together in confusion and he removed his eyeglasses from his face, leaning closer in my direction as though he hadn't heard me right. "I'm sorry, but why is it Chad Dylan Cooper's fault?"
"Well, you see, he works at Condor Studios with us, the same show actually as Brady does, and we met through him. If it weren't for Chad, I would never have met Brady, and none of this would've happened to me." I gripped the seat between my fingers even harder until my knuckles turned white. It was all Chad's fault.
"Did he introduce you?" Dr. Allen inquired.
"No," I admitted. "But he had just written on his blog that he kissed me, so when I went over to his table during lunch to confront him, Brady was next to him, and that's how we met. So you see if it weren't for that three-named cheese head, I would never have gotten my heart ripped to shreds." I nodded my head several times, causing the messy bun I had worn to work on Friday and hadn't bothered to undo since, to slide even farther off center on top of my head. A few more strands of my limp brown hair fell into my eyes. I didn't bother moving them. What was the point?
"Sonny, that doesn't make it his fault," Dr. Allen said with concern woven throughout his tone. He should've been a therapist.
"Yes it does," I insisted. "He's always doing things to mess with me."
"Well, I'm no expert, but it sounds like you don't want to have to blame Brady, so instead you're blaming the person who you can blame for most everything else."
I looked down at the dull, off-white tile pattern below my feet. Was he sure he wasn't a therapist because this sure did feel like a session more than a checkup.
"Sonny, you can't blame everything on Chad. I don't think this is your fault, or even his fault." Dr. Allen's words caused me to look up. How could he say that? Of course this was Chad's fault. He had probably done this on purpose…
Back to the present, looking into Chad's blue eyes, I felt a small surge of regret shoot through me for being so mean to him. But then I remembered that this was all his fault, and the feeling was gone.
Without even an icy goodbye said to him, I continued walking past him, bumping into his shoulder slightly as I passed, on purpose. How could he do this to me? I mean sure, Brady had played a role, but let's face it, Chad was completely at fault. Wasn't he? Everything up until then had been mostly his fault when it came to any pain, humiliation, or heartbreak I'd experienced out here in California so why should this time be any different?
After having to see Chad, the cause for all of my misery now, my sneakers slapped angrily against the floor and the sound echoed off the walls. People I passed on my way to my dressing room, moved out of my way in shock. No one was used to me being the Monday morning grump, much less the Monday morning train wreck.
Not in the mood to put much effort into what I was wearing, and also not feeling like looking like a giant ball of happiness, I had dressed in a black skirt and plain black button down top. The same outfit I'd once worn to a funeral. I hadn't even bothered looking in a mirror, so who knew what the state of my hair was.
Tawni and I's dressing room was unlocked when I got there, a sure sign that Tawni was already in there, either staring at herself in a mirror or making another outfit change. I hoped that Tawni would for some reason be in a sulky mood or at the very least be in a hormonal rage so that I wouldn't have to deal with chipper-Tawni this morning.
When I opened the door with the quick turn of the knob, I soon found out that I wouldn't in fact be dealing with chipper-Tawni, but overly-chipper-Tawni instead.
"Morning, Sonny. Isn't it a great day? Don't you think I just look so fantastic today? It's like, I woke up, and my hair was already perfect," Tawni babbled from the seat in front of her vanity.
She didn't even flinch when I walked in and slammed the door behind me.
"I mean, I was looking in the mirror, and it was like 'morning beautiful. You don't even need hair product today, because you already look Tawnilicious.' It was the absolute best way to start my day," she continued raving in a happy voice.
I simply ignored her and picked up the yellow smiley face folder I stored all of the sketches I came up with in and dropped myself onto the couch. Tawni continued chattering away but I completely tuned her out as I looked through some of the old papers.
Giving up on making conversation with me, Tawni finally got up and went to go make her first outfit change of the day.
I finally came to a sketch I had come up with during the time period Brady and I had been dating. The subject of the sketch had nothing to do with our relationship or the breakup or even Chad, but it still caused a ripple of pain to pass through my whole body. Brady had said it was funny, so I'd taken it to my friends and they all agreed that we should use it in this week's show. Suddenly, I didn't want to use it anymore. I didn't even want to have to look at it.
I ripped the first paper, the actual drawing I had made of what it should look like first. It tore easily down the middle and brought a small sense of satisfaction to me. I ripped it again, only harsher, this time drawing attention to myself as Tawni burst through the curtains wearing another trendy pink outfit.
"What are you doing?" Tawni asked curiously, padding across the room in a sparkly pink top, matching skirt, and pink socks. She must've heard me and foregone putting on shoes to fully complete the look. Her gasp caused me to jump a little as I tore it up into eighths. "Sonny, what are you doing? Stop it!"
Once again, I didn't listen to her and grabbed the second sheet that went along with it, the script part of the sketch, and tore it swiftly down the center.
Stupid Chad… introducing me to all the wrong people… making me miserable.
"Sonny no, stop!" Tawni surprised me by hopping over the back of the couch and landing gracefully on her knees on the cushion next to me. She grabbed for the remains of the papers and managed to get a grip on the big half of the script sheet.
"No!" I shouted, tugging back. "Give it, Tawni, it's mine!"
"But we have to use it!" Tawni walked forward on her knees, still gripping a part of the paper. She attempted to pry my fingers away with one hand and hold on with the other.
"No! We're not doing that sketch anymore! I hate it!" Pulling on it harder, the paper ripped loudly and Tawni stumbled backwards a little while I slumped against the armrest.
Tawni clutched the small piece she had been left with to her chest and snatched up my folder of sketches in case I did anything else rash. "Sonny, what is wrong with you? You can't just tear up your sketches. And -not that I was paying attention or anything- but you said that you always kept the original copy of your sketches because they were special."
"Well that one isn't special!" I choked out, tearing up the little shreds of it that were left in my hands until there was nothing left but colorful confetti in my lap. "It's rotten and it's mean and cruel and jerk-ish and… just a big jerk-face!" I didn't realize when I stopped talking about the sketch and started talking about Chad instead in my rant.
"But Sonny, that one had just you and me in it! And it was funny! I was funny! That was this week's biggest sketch! Marshall said so himself!" Tawni protested, smoothing out the rumpled scrap in her hands.
"It doesn't matter! I'm pulling the sketch from the show! I hate it now! I hate him…" Mumbling the last part, I pushed off of the couch and walked over to my vanity, letting the confetti scraps rain down onto the floor. Some even stuck to my skirt like a desperate attempt by the sketch itself to keep hanging on. They were quickly swatted off by my hands before I felt calm enough to take a seat.
"Something's wrong," Tawni suddenly stated. "Tell me what's wrong so we can put the sketch back in the show."
"No," I grumbled, feeling very much now, like a sulky five year old.
Tawni sprang up off the couch also and marched over to tower over me, in a slightly intimidating way. "Yes!"
I turned from her in my seat and squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn't have to see her pleading with me in the mirror. Just ignore her, Sonny. She'll lose interest soon enough, I told myself.
"Sonny!" she snapped, quite clearly irritated with me. She put a hand on my shoulder and asked if this had anything to do with Brady or Chad.
Without thinking, I turned my head and bit her hand (not hard at all) before turning back around again. Tawni shrieked and yanked her hand back.
To further let her know I wouldn't be budged, I started loudly humming the So Random theme song with my eyes still firmly clamped shut.
"Alright, Sonny, you asked for it!"
All I heard next was the sound of footsteps, a door opening and slamming shut again, and the word "savage" being mumbled several times.
Asked for what? What was Tawni going to even do? The better question being, what could she even do?
Since I was now safe though, I opened my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked terrible, if I was being dreadfully honest with myself. My skin had somehow gotten paler, unless of course it was just the lighting (I didn't think it was). And my hair was limp and unkempt after only having a brush yanked through it twice this morning. My eyes… looked painfully hollow and sad. How had Chad and Tawni not even noticed that?
My thoughts were interrupted when the door clicked open and Tawni returned with one of the only authority figures we had around here on set. Marshall.
So now I sat in Marshall's office, being prodded for information as to why on Earth I didn't want to do the sketch anymore and why I had torn it up in the first place. Oh, and of course why I had bitten Tawni.
I didn't see how this was any of Marshall's or anyone else's business, so I refused to answer. The answers I did give were cryptic, and only made the crease in the middle of Marshall's forehead grow more and more pronounced.
After a few minutes more of my passiveness, Marshall picked up the phone and started dialing.
I couldn't believe this was becoming that big of a deal and that it was suddenly everyone else's business. Once again, this was all Chad's fault. Boy, he knew how to mess up my life.
Hearing the words "not acting herself," "unusually unresponsive," "violent," "may be best to take her out of the show tonight," and "Connie," I slumped down further in my seat and studied the floor pattern. Unfortunately, the carpet in Marshall's office wasn't rather interesting and did nothing to divert my mind from the pain that was creeping back into my heart. I rocked back and forth a little in my chair waiting for Marshall to get off the phone.
"Alright, I'll see you in a minute, Connie," Marshall said in a hushed voice before he hung up the phone. Great, apparently now my mother was being dragged back into this.
"Sonny, I talked to your mother and she said she was going to come and take you home for the day," Marshall spoke in a gentle tone, like he was afraid of upsetting me. Mom must've told him about the breakup.
This did get me to sit up taller in my seat though. "No, I don't want to go home yet. I want to stay here," I insisted, lying to him and myself. I had to be there though if I wanted to be ready for this week's show and keep doing a good enough job to keep my job.
"Sonny, kiddo, I think it'd be best if you just took the day off and relaxed a little." His soothing, understanding voice only made everything seem worse, and his words, condescending.
"But I honestly don't need to relax. Marshall, I'm serious. I'm fine."
"Sorry, but your mom and I think that's best for you." He clasped his hands together on top of his desk.
"But Marshall… Please?" I pleaded, my voice breaking on the last word, unintentionally.
Marshall looked torn for about ten seconds before he shook his head firmly. "Sorry, Sonny, but it's your mom's word against mine. She wins."
"Fine," I stated emotionlessly. "I'll wait for her out front." And with that, I stood and walked all the way from his office to the studio's front entrance and plopped down onto the cement steps.
I could almost feel myself literally breaking on the inside as I stared out across the parking lot. There was nothing to occupy my mind except the crushing breakup and the times that had seemed so wonderful before that. Seven months… We went out for seven months, and Brady didn't even care.
"Stupid Chad Dylan Cooper," I breathed quietly.
I had another flash back to my doctor's visit over the weekend.
Mom walked back into the room when my examination and little "session" were done with. "Well, is there anything wrong with her? Is she sick, anything?"
Dr. Allen stood up and looked down at me briefly before he set his focus on my mom. "No, there's nothing wrong with her, she's not sick or anything of the sort. There's nothing I can do to help. I only wish it were possible for me to be able to fix people's broken hearts, but I can't."
Can't fix broken hearts, huh?
Finally, having seen enough pavement and empty cars, I put my face in my hands and closed my eyes, thinking about how easier my life would be without-
"Sonny?" a familiar voice asked in a surprised and slightly concerned tone.
I angled my body away from the voice, not needing any more problems from him. He'd done enough damage that even a doctor couldn't fix.
"Sonny, what are you doing out here?" I could hear Chad lowering himself down onto the steps next to me anyway.
"Go away," I ordered in a muffled tone.
"So you want me to leave?" He checked.
"Well then I have to stay," Chad said, probably smirking as usual.
Ripping my hands away from my face, I glared at him. "Can't you see that I don't want you here? You're always ruining everything for me and taking everything that I love away from me! Just go away!" At the time, the twinge of guilt that came with those venomous words was small, the heartbreak overpowering all other emotions.
"What do you mean by that? I've never taken anything you loved away! I'm cunning, Sonny, not evil!" Chad met the level of harshness in my tone, most likely out of hurt.
"Yes, you have! It's because of you that I have to go home early today. It's because of you that I bit Tawni and tore up a sketch. Meeting Brady, falling for him, getting in too deep in love, then being broken by him, that's all your fault!" I yelled out hysterically. The seams holding me together were coming undone, and unfortunately the person who was causing this all for me was going to have to end up being the one to see me fall apart.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa… Back the blame train up. It's my fault, Brady broke up with you? …Wait a minute, he broke up with you?" Chad asked, subconsciously leaning closer to me.
I was too wound up to even laugh at the fact that Chad Dylan Cooper had just used the words "blame train" in a sentence.
I nodded miserably.
"But you guys were together for like five months." Chad suddenly looked like realization hit him. "Oh… that would explain why he didn't invite you to come along with us on Saturday…" He voiced this realization out loud quietly, but I was close enough to hear him.
The last thread in me snapped and my eyes started overflowing with tears. The tears that I had been holding in since Friday afternoon all came pouring out of my eyes in front of Chad Dylan Cooper.
"H-h-he didn't… ev-v-ven tell me in person," I blubbered. "He j-just wrote me-e a note." My breath was coming out in short little gasps, making my shoulders shake and rise and fall at a quick pace.
Even through my tears, I could see the hesitance as Chad debated with himself on what to do with me. From what I could tell from him, he probably wouldn't be the kind of guy who handled tears well. Nevertheless, I soon felt an arm slip around my shoulders and could feel Chad scoot closer to me.
"What kind of inconsiderate jerk does that?" he asked rhetorically.
"A-and he just promised me on Thursday that he was going to take me out for dinner on my birthday when he probably knew he was breaking up with me the next day," I blubbered. So what if I would probably regret spilling my guts to Chad Dylan Cooper? He'd had worse dirt on me before. And at the moment, when I was finally breaking after three days of trying so hard to stay together, it didn't matter that the cause for this was the person comforting me.
"What a loser," Chad said with the right amount of disgust in his tone.
"All h-he did was st-tick the stupid note to my mirror and l-leave it there!" I said miserably, sniffling.
"Psh. Who does that?"
"Brady!" My voice was filled with all of the hurt and anger I'd been harboring all weekend. Two shaky breaths after I said it, I realized that that was how I'd been saying Chad's name this whole time. As though he had personally hurt me instead of Brady, when in reality, it was Brady who had done this to me. Not Chad. Boy, did I feel bad after coming to that conclusion.
"You deserve way better than him." Chad's voice brought me back to reality.
I pulled back a little and turned my head to look at him. Why was he doing this? Why was he making me feel better after I just yelled at him that he ruined everything in my life and that I didn't want him here? He wasn't obligated to do this. Chad could get up and leave any time without a backward glance, so why was he staying? And more importantly, why was he actually being nice to me about this?
I was so confused. For almost three whole days, I'd been channeling all my anger into hating Chad and I'd been telling myself and everyone else, that my heart was broken because of Chad. Now it was kind of a culture shock to have Chad actually trying to help me instead of destroy me and plot to hurt me like the evil villain my mind had been depicting him as.
Chad stared back at me questioningly and looked a little like he was wondering if he said something wrong. "What is it?" he broke the silence with his simple question.
"Umm, nothing… It's nothing…" Scooting closer to him again, I hesitantly lowered my head onto his shoulder. I wasn't hesitant for the usual reason though; no, it wasn't because I feared rejection. I hesitated because I was still picturing Chad as the bad guy in my mind and I was actually trying to get past that and trust him.
But the longer I was with Chad like this, the more I really was starting to trust him and actually feel… safe with him.
What I thought was going to be an endless stream of tears actually did eventually come to a halt, leaving me looking probably horribly red-faced, snotty, and tear-stained. Well, as long as no one took a picture to commemorate this horrid day (except for the part where I realized Chad actually had the ability to comfort girls and wasn't the complete jerk I was thinking he was) I'd be fine.
I figured after several minutes of nothing but the construction noise across the street and the occasional sniff from me, I should thank him and apologize as well. I'd been sort of… kind of… really mean to him earlier.
My mouth opened in preparation for an apology but ended up shutting again when my mom's old car pulled up to the curb.
"That's my mom," I stated, clearing my throat afterwards because my voice was hoarse after crying and then not talking for so long.
Chad and I pulled apart and rose to our feet almost simultaneously.
"Bye." My sneakered feet made a plunk when they hit the cement next to the steps, landing on the front of my feet first and settling flat on my feet on the ground a second later.
"Feel better," Chad said.
"Thanks." I started to walk away but then turned back around to face him again. "For everything. And, I'm really sorry for everything I said earlier. I didn't mean it."
"Don't mention it. And I mean that. I do have a reputation to uphold," he spoke cockily with a trademark smirk on his face.
I couldn't help but smile. "Your secret's safe with me."
"See you, Munroe," Chad said, winking afterwards.
"See you, Cooper," I replied, waving a little before turning back to my mom's car.
On the short, four foot walk to the car door, I got caught up in my own thoughts again.
Well, it's not even noon yet, I'm being forced to go home early by mom, but I actually have learned several things already. Among them, the fact that Brady is the inconsiderate jerk and Chad is actually pretty nice and not a mean cheese head like I thought.
And… that it really wasn't Chad's fault. Chad was just the one to pick me up when I was down… like an actual friend would.
Secretly, I'm kind of glad that I don't have to be mad at Chad anymore because it's no fun fighting with him when I'm actually angry. Then it's just like fighting with anyone else.
But… if the blame has to go to anyone, I now know where to rightfully put it, because really, the whole thing was all Brady's fault.
Thanks for reading and please review. :)