I'm not really sure what to write up here- it's been literally years since this was updated and I completed the synopsis.

I'm sorry it's been a long wait for the next installment, I took some time out of writing, and I had other things in my life that I had to put first.

Naturally, my writing style has changed and altered with the time out, but I've tried my best to stay true to the style of this story, along with some experiments of different techniques for certain parts for reasons that I feel are justified. (Poor Chad can't be locked in a world of metaphors and deep thought all the time after all!)

I'm SO GRATEFUL for all of the patience people have had with this, and love for this story. Your reviews and comments have really inspired me to continue the project and keep going.

There is only ONE chapter left after this of Part One (which most of it I wrote before any of the other chapters…so I just need to tweak it.) and then we're onto Part Two!

I really hope you enjoy this installment; it's a little long – as usual – but hope you like it.

I'd advise a quick skim over the previous chapter as this one jumps forwards a little in time (only a few weeks).


Sonny Monroe, the Love of your life, never did exist

She was just an Illusion. A feeble, narrow Escape route from the painful reality: you made her up. All

in your head, a nice dream, that's all She was. They're lying to you.

They told you LIES.


...W h a t ' s - L e f t - O f - M e

AnalystProductions 2012

-:¦:-•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-•* Be Careful what you wish for, it may just come true *•-:¦:-•:*'''''*:•-:¦:-


Sooner or later, he was going to have to drop the bombshell on Chad Dylan Cooper and reveal the truth.

The truth being that Sonny Monroe does not exist.

She's nothing but an illusion.

And that was a fact.

A cold,




9. Dragon in the hallway, Broken Fairytales 9.


8th November 2009

Well, it's been a while since I've written anything in this journal.

I'm sorry.

Sometimes the pain is just too much to bear. When writing this down; the reality sinks in that Sonny Monroe is really gone. And fuck. It just hurts more each time. It's not ever my heart that I feel breaking anymore, it's Sonny's. The heart I mercilessly wished stopped beating. The heart that never was, because I made it so.

I made it so exactly two months ago.

Pearson still doesn't believe me; I can tell he tries to conceal his concern on his visits. He comes to the house a lot now. It used to be the occasional visit. I've pretended not to notice that his visits are more frequent, and longer. I'm still shocked at how he's the only one able to initiate responses from me. He asks me all sorts of questions, shows an interest – he seems to be one of the few who still cares about Chad Dylan Cooper.

I know if I were him, I wouldn't care. After everything I've done, even without including the demolition of a beautiful soul, I wouldn't care for me.

I don't care for me.

Hollywood doesn't care for me much either. The press have been milking my story more than ever recently, especially as Mackenzie Falls ratings are dropping radically. Apparently, fans can only take Mackenzie being in a coma for so long – and that time is beginning to run out fast. Main characters, characters that had been in the show since it began, have left in fear of losing their jobs.

Jobs of talented actors that have been plunged into turmoil – all because of me.

Harvord's initial article about me back in October wasn't as bad as I thought. She kept her side of the deal after all.

On the down side, she phones me on a fortnightly basis, demanding me to answer questions in order to maintain our little deal. I have no other choice but to comply. Besides, it could be worse. Grace and Jamie aren't anywhere to be found in the media, or any indication of our whereabouts.

If it keeps them safe and out of the limelight- of course I'll do it.

In a strange way, Harvord's articles about me have created this public support for me, some hope for 'Sonshine' to be real, some hope I realise she's not real. Harvord has got more personal with her questions recently – prying about anecdotes to do with Sonny that I haven't told anyone.

I tell her them, a little sickened at the fact Sonny's name is being used to give me a better name.

Grace smiles a little in pity when she realises I'm thinking about her- which is practically every second. We never say her name in the house anymore. Pearson and Grace thought it would be good for me.

I never say her name out loud anymore.

But it's always with me, always whispered in everything I do - which to be honest isn't much- even Grace has noticed my lack of willingness to do anything this week. I didn't even leave my room yesterday. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep.

I just sat on my bed.

How can I possibly do anything when she's not here?


10th November 2009

It snowed today- I haven't seen snow for a while.

I spent the day with Jamie, making a snowman and creating snow angels. Sonny and I did that when it snowed once. When I close my eyes, it's as if I'm back there with here, her angelic face glowing in the white powder dusted around us. She pulled my hat over my face.

She has a bubbly sense of humour, one that's endearing and rare to find because it's so genuine.

I pulled my hat off my face, and gazed into the amused brown eyes, crinkled slightly by that toothy grin. Then I pushed her into the pile of snow behind her. But I ended up falling down with her, and we both laughed for what felt like hours.

Then I leant in and kissed her, feeling her smile against my lips.

It's one of my fondest memories of her – of us.

Before I destroyed everything.


15th November 2009

The fresh snow has pretty much cleared now, leaving that mushy, muddy snow nobody likes. I picked Jamie up from school today. I had to use Grace's car, wear horribly cheap sunglasses and cover my face just to go. It's the first time I've been outside of the house since I got here. Although according to Grace I look nothing like the Hollywood movie star anymore.

In the car, Jamie asked me about my imaginary friend. I asked him about school. He asked me if his imaginary friend would never come back like mine.

I wasn't sure what to say to that. So we drove back in silence, and I went back to my room.

Maybe it's a good thing I spend all my time up here, away from the outside world.


Life is so degrading, and I'm pretty sure I hate it.

I gotta get myself out of this town.

Before I'm broken down, lying shattered on the ground,

For all the world to see who I am.


The 16th November had so far proven itself to be another dreary day in this dismal world. Chad had confined himself to the kitchen today, deciding that if he spent the majority of the day washing up plates or whatever he could find rather than putting it in the dishwasher, it would try and take his mind off things. Grace had taken the day off work, her excuse being she was owed holiday anyway and could use a day of peace and quiet before Jamie came back from school. But Chad knew the reason; she didn't want him here alone anymore, by himself, stuck in the solitude where he could reside in his thoughts. Many times, they had discussed the possibility of Chad getting a local job here.

Then the cruel reminder of his fame, his secret location and the incident with Vicky Harvord made its way back into conversation. It was for the best that Chad stayed here, in the house. Brushing the sponge over the plate, Chad Dylan Cooper glanced over at his clearly concerned sister. He forced a brave smile just for her, nudging her with his foot.

"I'm fine Grace. Really. Even Pearson said so last week."

Lie. Pearson didn't say anything of the kind and he was sure his sister knew that too. Instead she played his game.

"Always assuming everything is about you eh?" she teased, pushing her brother playfully as she reached for the plate on the draining board that needed wiping over.

Grinning a little, Chad flicked a handful of bubbly water at her face.

"No need for that tone GMC."

He remembered how distraught she had been when he first called her that at school, before he auditioned for Mackenzie Falls. They had been learning about Genetically Modified crops and foods. Chad had smirked and told Grace Mia Cooper that her initials really stood for a Genetically Modified Cooper. She had indignantly walked home without him, and told Mum the second she got in. Their Mum took her side of course. She always had taken Grace's words as gospel, until Chad became famous of course. He smiled sadly at the thought of how life and people had changed over the course of his prominence in acting.

"You think you're so funny!" she replied, wiping her face of the water with a radiant smile.

"I don't think I am G, I know."

The old smugness he used to wear on his sleeve returned for a moment, fading back into the horizon as he recalled how Sonny Monroe had once told him he'd be good in comedy. Before Grace could respond, the doorbell rang. Anxiously the siblings exchanged glances. Placing the tea towel on the counter, Grace Mia Cooper shot his brother a reassuring smile before leaving the kitchen.

Picking up a plate, Chad dipped it into the warm water lightly. It was kind of therapeutic, scrubbing the dirt off the plates, washing them down until they sparkled magnificently with promise and sheen; a bit like Hollywood. Chad recalled that far off fairy-tale land of riches, pseudo-happiness, pseudo-life. His life in Hollywood had only ever been real the years he had known Sonny Monroe. Before that, he was just another superstar who masked his real personality. After that, well…after Sonny Monroe. Nothing. No Hollywood, no life…Chad supposed that this life here, in Grace's house, was the new pseudo- life he'd created for himself. As much as he wanted it to last, he knew it wouldn't. He couldn't go on without Sonny forever.

"Chad!" Grace whispered, opening the door cautiously, her eyes full of something he was unable to at first identify.

The words that Chad had never expected his sister to utter left her lips as she pressed the door shut with her palms quickly in agitation. Then he identified what was glowing in her eyes: shock.

Chad, Mum's here.

Almost choking on the air around him, the blonde man dropped the plate he had been washing up back into the sink. What? Grace was not the only one he had lost family connections with. But this was completely different. He hadn't intentionally cut Grace off for years. His mother was a whole different story on the other hand. All she cared for was to live vicariously, soak up Chad Dylan Cooper's success and use it for her own means. Chad wasn't a person; he was a victory trophy, a shiny medal branding the Cooper name into this world of superfluity. Scowling, the blonde glowered at his sister.

"Why didn't you tell me she was coming?" he hissed, terrified of being overheard by the fire-breathing cougar-dragon, definitely capable of death, in the hallway.

"I didn't know either, she just appeared!" she said back in a small voice.

"Chad? Are you here?" The voice in the hallway called, removing the shoes which would most likely be Prada or something ridiculously expensive.

Gesturing towards the door, Grace griped the handle and plastered on a false smile. Chad found himself doing a similar thing, as the door opened his eyes met Molly Cooper. She was an exceptionally thin, glamorous woman, with short grey hair and lips painted in a dark maroon colour. Her clothes were lavishly decorated in jewellery, the clothes themselves probably costing more than Grace's wardrobe put together. Her beady eyes widened when she caught the sight of her son cowering – no not cowering, Chad Dylan Cooper didn't cower, just hiding – behind Grace. Extending her arms, she squealed.

"Oh Chad." Her squeal faded as she properly examined her son.

His dirty blonde hair was ruffled messily over his forehead. Facial hair overgrown and unshaven, his vast blue eyes were sunken into his head in fatigue. His pale complexion had an almost sickly glow to it. Not to mention his body was a little less muscular and scrawnier than she had remembered it to be. Frowning, she stared into his eyes.

"You look terrible- I demand you shave all that off right now." She gestured to his face in disgust. He raised his eyebrows, refusing to reply. She had lost the authority and power to do make him do anything a long time ago. "I've been so worried about you."

She wasn't worried about him. She was worried about his reputation which thus would affect her own. Limply, Chad fell into the woman's firm embrace, and pulled a face of distaste at his sister whose lips failed to hide a smirk.

"We…weren't expecting you." Grace said slowly, to her relief not receiving the same, intense hug her brother had done. Chad had always been the more accomplished Cooper, after all.

"Well I thought I'd come and see my beautiful children, which reminds me," she pulled the suitcase out from behind her, practically inviting herself to stay. "Do you mind if I stay for a few days?"

Chad rolled his eyes and tried to make his way towards the kitchen to escape. Great. Now she'd never leave. She'd constantly be terrorising him, antagonising him about this whole 'situation'. His privacy would be infringed. No doubt she would try and arrange for him to get involved in more publicity. He and Grace were handling everything just fine by themselves. In fact, the past few days they'd gotten on better than ever. They didn't need her here. She was a catalyst, waiting to detonate a bomb.

"Um…sure Mum," Grace reluctantly replied, quickly regaining her smile. "you can take the guest room."

No! She could not take the guest room, that was Chad's room, Chad's private thinking area. Now he was going to have to strive even harder for peace and quiet.


"-Chad can take the couch," she turned to Chad, eyes pleading for him to accept the offer. She batted her eyelids sweetly for an added effect of encouragement. "right Chad?"

Unable to do anything but comply, Chad shrugged casually. He wanted to make the next few days as easy as possible for Grace. Giving up a few days of peace and solitude would be the least of his worries.


Propping herself elegantly onto the crimson sofa, Molly Cooper sat down, pulling out a pile of Celebrity Gossip magazines, all with Chad Dylan Cooper's face plastered over them. Holding them up one by one, as if exhibiting them to the siblings like they were precious family photos, she dramatically frowned. Christ, she'd been here for less than five minutes and already she'd skipped past courtesies and made it clear why she was here. Chad pursed his lips in annoyance, teeth gritted tightly behind the wall.

"The press are being extremely unfair and mean to my poor baby. Now," she said licking a finger to peel over one of the pages of Heat Magazine. "tell me this Sonny Monroe business is just a rumour blown out of proportion so we can move on from all of this."

Silence. Grace and Chad exchanged glances, neither sure what to say. Their mother snorted at the title page of the OK!Magazine which read: Chad Dylan Cooper - a Hollywood blooper? Chad couldn't deny the catchy ring to the rhyme, damn journalists and their ingenious crafting of words, but nonetheless spared a second to take offense. A blooper? Is that how his career of almost a decade was perceived as? He was the greatest actor of his generation. Even Sonny Monroe had told him, countless times (after much persuasion).

"What a load of washed up nonsense from talentless journalists trying to pick on my son-"

The word nonsense, Chad realised, had just been associated with her. Snapping back into focus, he narrowed his eyes.

"-It's not nonsense. And the press aren't spreading rumours. She's real, and I'm going to find her." Chad vowed, meeting his mother's stern gaze.

Grace gripped one side of the sofa for support once she saw the smouldering look on their mother's face. It instantly melted into a sweet, yet crude, smile.

"You're joking."

Unable to take the tensions bottling up, the blonde made his way towards the stairs.

"No Mum, I'm not." He said defiantly.

Part of him felt guilty for leaving his sister downstairs, defenceless against the dragon in the hallway. She didn't even have a shield to block the infernos spitting from the sharp tongue and scaly mouth. He could hear the pair of them talking now, Molly Cooper bombarding question after question, leaving Grace no choice but to engage. However, when he made it to the room that was no longer going to be his, he simply lay down on the bed and released a tense chuckle at his own thoughts. 'Dragon in the hallway'…maybe he should have a shot at being a journalist.


Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over

Part of me believing it was always something that I'd done

But I don't wanna live that way

Reading into every word you say

You said that you could let it go

And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know


16th November 2009

My mother is infuriating! I can't believe she's here after everything. She only cares about her stupid label and reputation.

Speaking of mothers…

Just added another important thing to the list of Sonny Monroe: Her mother is Connie Monroe – who seems to have no recollection of having a daughter in this world.

I'm trying desperately to think of connections, people who might just be able to confirm her existence. I've tried the obvious ones: Marshall, Zora, Nico, Grady, Tawni…

Portlyn has crossed my mind a couple of times, one of my only true friends in the other world, and probably in this one too. But I have no way of contacting her, and I'm sure in this place I've probably done something to offend her and we're not talking. Every relationship here seems to be skewed by me.

I think I've got enough here in this journal to prove to anybody that I couldn't have made all this up though. Nobody's mind could possibly be this detailed and elaborate in the creation of one person and their life story.

The back pages of this journal finally reached 25 pages of solid, factual information about Sonny. The front…I'm not really sure why I continue to write what I do in here.

Maybe these entries too will help prove her existence?


So be careful what you wish for

You just might get it

If this is what you live for

You might as well forget it


"Remember," Grace said sternly as she made her way towards the front door where a silhouette was standing. "No funny business Chad, he's here to help you."

"Grace I-"

"-Who is it?" Chimed Molly Cooper, nosily barging through the hallway to the door.

Thank god it was her fourth and penultimate day here.

"Just Doctor Pearson Mum, come on. Let's leave them to it." Without checking whether her mother agreed, Grace tugged the woman into the kitchen, making note to shut the door firmly behind so Chad and the Doctor could be left in peace.

Opening the front door, Chad came face to face with an-ever handsome, calm Pearson who admittedly blinked a little in surprise at the sight before him. Neither said a word, no hello or special greetings; it was obvious Chad just wanted to get straight down to what they were here to do.

Pearson sat down on the crimson sofa, retrieving the notebook from his briefcase, and his usual flashy golden pen from his pocket. Silence was strung up by its neck, dangling in the air dismally. Chad Dylan Cooper had attempted to untie the noose with shaking hands, because if he could save a small piece of his world from enveloping into what it did when he was trapped in his own solitude, forever tortured by his own mind, he'd do so. Silence was something he relished, something that could wipe out everything else apart from itself. In the past few days it had proven itself a true friend, an ally in the war against this place; an ally in the quest to find Sonshine. Then, and only then would silence be broken fully, would he be broken fully.

Silence swayed back and forth slowly, and if you were to gaze upon this scene you may have misinterpreted it for a rare tranquillity in Chad Dylan Cooper's life. But this wasn't so; it couldn't be further from reality. Unaware that seconds had dissolved into minutes, time was not a concept he liked to dwell on in this cruel limbo, Chad gently lowered his hands from the swinging corpse.

He had failed. Just like he had failed to save Sonny Monroe.

Silence died, it ceased to exist. The talk was about to begin. Adjusting the DKNY glasses on his face, Pearson calmly broke Chad from his morbid staring across the room. Falling under the serene trance for a moment, the blonde turned to meet those meditative eyes, and raised his eyebrows to gesture he was listening.

"How are you feeling today ?"

Chad almost snorted at Pearson's constant politeness. The fact that the pair had been meeting for almost four weeks now, and he still called Chad '', gave a slight detachment between them. Their relationship hadn't really changed, and Chad appreciated it. He was still rude, dismissive; Pearson was still enigmatically simple and bizarrely calm. Part of him wondered if the Doctor knew this, knew Chad needed that someone in his life distant enough to not hurt, and close enough to sometimes open up to. Not that their meetings resembled anything like a normal clear-cut conversation.

But Pearson somehow made Chad speak about things almost offhandedly, subconsciously even.

He gave him breathing space.

Space that was just big enough to fill with big hazel eyes, pearly white teeth, soft brown curls. Then between each of these, he gently tucked in her laugh, her kiss, her scent – and embedded within this was hatred, a burning inferno of loathing and regret that threatened to sometimes seep through the cracks and singe these precious memories.

He never let his self-abhorrence rescind the memories.

Because that would be so typical of Chad Dylan Cooper: to drown in pity for himself, for everything he had become. To divert all his pain and suffering from the real victim and to himself. Everything was always about him. As he would drown in his woes, the currents would swallow her; engulf everything she was, everything she is, until all that remained was a long endless sea of tears that didn't resemble what they had accumulated for.

Chad didn't want that to happen, ever.

It was at this moment he realised he had waded in this imaginary sea for too long, watched himself drown her memories with his own hands. Clearing his throat, he pressed his hands together over his legs, and tried to process what Pearson had said. 'How are you feeling today?' To be perfectly honest, he couldn't give a flying fuck about how he was feeling. At least he was able to feel, unlike the ray of sunlight dispelled from the earth.

"…I'm…" sighing, Chad ran a hand over his unshaven face. He could feel his cheekbones had dug a hollow into each side beneath the thick golden mane. Throat a little tight, he quickly continued. "Fine."

The echo of a life that never was flashed through his mind.





Doc saw right through his façade. He always did, with those penetrating green eyes. But his calm persona never broke, never endangered Chad by interrogating him with constant 'why's and more 'why's and more stupid freaking questions he really did not want to sit down and answer right now. Not when the world was ending, the apocalypse drawing closer and closer each day.

"Do you mind if I take down your weight?"

Pearson wasn't stupid. Chad knew why he had asked this question. Shit.

Swallowing-hard, Chad bit his lip. He could feel that nervous shiver passing through his body. Truth was, he hadn't really eaten properly for weeks. Food wasn't that appealing to him, tasteless. Pretending he thought he was intolerant to something in Grace's meals – which were always homely and wholesome - had been his initial excuse to refuse food. Grace wasn't stupid either. She had looked at him with sad, weary eyes, clearly too drained from the past few months to argue about it. They had promised each other no more arguments, and then Jamie was sulking because he didn't like carrots and wouldn't eat them unless his uncle did too, and it was just enough of a distraction to drop the subject.

But she'd still leave his food in the fridge, in case he changed his mind and miraculously found his appetite. Recently, his own healthhad become insignificant. Chad never looked at himself anymore. When entering the bathroom to shower, he didn't gaze at the mirror. When looking out the window, he didn't pause for a minute moment to focus on his ghostly reflection. When walking down the hallway, he kept his gaze low to avoid greeting himself. Trouble sleeping had come next. Pearson had prescribed him with insomnia pills a few weeks ago. At first, Chad had thrown them back in his face, leaving the Doctor with a slightly tender cheek. Then the Doctor had unexpectedly laughed – the first expression of this kind Chad had ever heard from the man – and nestled the pills against the flowers by the front door.

For reasons Chad didn't understand – nothing was ever comprehendible with Pearson- he had retrieved the medication and obediently tried them for a while. In return, longer undisturbed periods of sleep met him in the darkness, kissing his forehead softly. But also with it was a void. At night his dreams were void; his mind was void. The notion that he had been giving up hours of time not thinking about Sonshine and how to somehow get her back, indulging in dreams, had unnerved him so much that poured the bright yellow pills fall into the dark abyss. Each small capsule was powerless, falling at gravity's will into the sinkhole. He couldn't help but compare this to Sonny's supernatural demise.

Narrowing his eyes, the blonde man hostilely replied.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

The man before him frowned, gesturing to Chad's body as he scribbled something down on his notepad.

"If I recall correctly, that shirt you're wearing wasn't baggy at all when we first met." He observed lightly.

Unable to control his panic, disguised as rage, Chad snarled.

"It's been stretched, that what happens to clothes."

Pearson, to Chad's relief, doesn't press any further on the subject. Instead, he motions towards the man's face, interest masking the handsome features.

"Your beard is coming along."

Crossing his legs, he adjusted the chunky glasses riming his soft eyes. Ploughing a hand down his face, Chad let a bitter laugh escape. The Doctor rarely had to ask for answers now. He merely prompted, allowing Chad to divulge as little or as much as he wished- wished –the word smeared an unpleasant revulsion over his skin. He had tried to scrub off this grime, that terrible word he'd used. However, it always remained, sticking to each pigment sinisterly.

"It's a reminder." He began slowly. "it reminds me of how long I've been stuck here. It reminds me of my mistake, of how I murdered her."

Rubbing his forehead, Nick Pearson sighed. He removed his glasses, gazing at Chad through eyes that seemed almost as weary and sad as Grace's with closer inspection. The dazzling emerald had declined to a more modest shade of green, swelling with confusion and most likely fatigue. Chad had never once asked Pearson how he was, what he spent the rest of his time doing. For a moment, guilt swathed his pale complexion. He didn't need to ask now properly examining the Doctor. It was apparent the Doctor had moved all his focus to Chad Dylan Cooper.

With his usual simplicity, Pearson proposed another question, a dangerous one.

"How can you murder someone that doesn't exist?"

Rage. Distress. Fury, exploded from the man sat opposite him.

"I told you the day I met you. I tell you every time we sit here." Chad spat darkly, almost resignedly. "I wished she didn't exist. Therefore, I murdered her."

Propping the glasses back onto his head, the Doctor put the notepad and pen on the coffee table, hands clasped together for a moment. He appeared to be lost for a moment in thought, calm, collected thought. Then unclipping his briefcase, he pulled out a wad of files reluctantly. Instantly, Chad knew what they were, eyes wide. He got them out every time he visited now, as a reminder to the blonde the difference between fact and fiction. The files landed on the table between them. Leaning towards the man, Pearson gestured towards the file.

"You know what they are." Chad swallowed-hard, tears threatening to permeate his sapphire eyes. His tone softened slightly, taking on a reassuring one. "I wouldn't tell you this each time we sit here, if I didn't know for sure it was true."


There it was again. The allegation Chad had to listen to week on week.

Sonny Monroe does not exist.

She's nothing but an illusion.

And that was a fact.

A cold,



The files clattered on the floor chaotically as Chad brushed his arm aggressively over the table. Unfazed, Pearson picked up the files and put them back on the table.

Sonny Monroe does not exist.

She's nothing but an illusion.

Chad knocked the files back off the table in resilience, eyes darkening. He was fed up with all of this shit. The world thinking he was making this up, some even believing it to be a freaking publicity stunt, a sick joke- he wasn't sure how much longer he could endure this naïve, unkind world that lacked that kindness, beauty and radiance of sunlight. Without thinking, he leant over towards the Doctor.

"You want proof that she's real?" he said daringly.

It was now or never.

The Doctor's expression faltered a little, curiosity overpowering his usual calm nature. Studying the blonde man in front of him, he pushed his glasses up his nose. Was it…possible? Could this whole fiasco really be true and not a psychological reaction to constant strain and stress in Hollywood? No. He'd searched every database available to him; he still checked places he hadn't thought of. He even had a few trusted colleagues in the field doing research, trying to validate the diagnosis- which he remained uncertain of. How could you diagnose somebody who was so unbelievably set on a different reality? Was he from a different reality? …was there a world where Allison Monroe once lived?

Pearson had always enjoyed sci-fi novels, and films alike, but found he had to refrain from indulging in this genre. Because it broadened his imagination to things that shouldn't be possible, and made all sorts of crazy notions somehow a little less crazy and more like a puzzle to be solved. Chad frantically pushed his hand underneath the cushion behind him, reaching for the maroon, slightly tattered notebook. The diary he had working on, documenting everything about her…it was his last chance. His final shot at proving her existence.

"I have a book…" he mumbled, fumbling deeper in the sofa. "I've written down everything about her."

Panic tore through his veins as his fingers brushed over the grooves in the back of the sofa. The book wasn't there. Gazing over at a calm Pearson, Chad stood up.

She's nothing but an illusion.

"No, where is it?" he cried, loud enough to stir the two woman who had retreated to the kitchen.

Hauling the cushion away, Chad slowly dug his fingers deeper into the sofa. Lifting the bottom of the sofa, he threw the rest of the cushions off manically. Grace watched in horror, clutching her mother in a firm grip.

"-What's he doing Grace stop him-"

Sonny Monroe does not exist.

"-This has gone too far-"

She's nothing but an illusion.

Pausing, Chad toppled the sofa over in rage. He spun around quickly. Somebody had done this, somebody had taken it from him.

"Did…" he felt the throbbing in his throat. "Did you do this?" voice low; dangerous, eyes locked on the Doctor. The accusation of course was ridiculous, nobody knew about the book.


Maybe he'd hallucinated the freaking book too.

"It was right here!" his voice became a roar, refusing to let the small beads of Hope slip through his fingertips.

Getting to his feet, Pearson reached over to Chad in concern.

"Calm down Mr. Cooper."

There it was again. Calm, calm, calm, calm fuckity calm calm calm. Well Chad didn't want to be calm. Grace bravely stepped forwards.

"What's going on?" she cooed, eyes locked on her little brother.

"Someone stole my book." Chad said, anger morphing into blind panic. This was bigger that he had ever imagined. Somebody was out to get him. His mind raced with questions, and his Hope suddenly grew. What if it was all a big cover-up and Sonny Monroe was alive? Like in those thriller movies that always took an unexpected, shocking turn of events. His eyes widened. What if she was in trouble? What if-

"-What book?" Grace whispered, stroking her brother's shoulders soothingly.

The touch was numbing to his skin. Heart pounding rapidly, breath hitching in this sore throat, Chad's vision became slightly impaired. A strange stupor descended upon his trembling body. Grace's face became blurred, the room around began to spin. He'd never noticed what a wonder and tasteful colour palette Grace had chosen for the living room, until they were mashed together chaotically in a whirlwind of confusion.

"My…" sucking in a large breath, Chad stumbled back a little, dizziness slapped him across the face. "my book..."

All the voices had blurred into one mesh of different tones and overlapping pitches. One replied hastily. Blindly staggering to sit, the blonde clamped his aching eyes shut. The room was still spinning. He could feel his head throbbing from it.

Sonny Monroe does not exist.

She's nothing but an illusion.

"And why would someone do that? Why?"

Because they're trying to take her away forever! Everyone was, all of you are. Every single one of you are.

"-Chad please stop shouting!" A female pleaded, and Chad assumed his thoughts had left his mouth in a wild, hysterical way. He wasn't aware of most of his conscious self now, it was as if he were detached it all, incapable of controlling himself, whilst haunting words circled his mind.

A cold,



It's gone.

He grinded his teeth together, pressing a hand to the bridge of his nose. Don't listen to them, don't listen to the lies-

"Sonny Monroe never existed-"

Shut-up. Just shut-up please.

His anger crumbled to despair.

She's nothing but an illusion.

Just stop it.

Opening his eyes once more, he let out an involuntary groan of anguish. Chad curled up in a ball, the only plausible reaction to the rapidly spinning room. His senses were completely disorientated; hearing fizzling in and out of focus.


Was all this an illusion?

It didn't feel real.

...What was real?


Rocking back and forth solemnly, he felt tears fall down his face.

Maybe he wasn't real.

Maybe he was the one who didn't exist. Maybe his wish had backfired and sent him away to a world of torture where Sonny Monroe could no longer be hurt by him-

-But the book's gone, it's gone-



...would she miss him as much as he missed her?

Not real.

Grace knelt by his side in concern, holding back a choked sob. He saw her mouth moving, but couldn't hear the desperate words that accompanied it:

"Pearson, what's happened to him?"

Chad's world began to shake violently, as Grace gently clutched his shoulder. Paralyzed in a strange state, unable to speak, unable to react; Chad tried to focus on the Doctor's words. The Doctor was closer; his glasses appeared to be levitating in the air. No. They weren't. Because that wasn't real. Focus Chad fucking focus!


Not real.


Levitating glasses. No.





-Only in FICTION.

"More serious than... refer…Rehabilitation Centre..."


Trembling all over, Chad felt a frenzied response burning in his chest. No. He could hear his own voice in the room, low and stretched out in a vast expanse of slow movement: Nooo. Why did nobody believe him? Pearson seemed to sense the blonde's response through the vacant, fearful eyes. Crouching beside the man, the Doctor stared into the eyes. Chad failed to focus on the shadow leaning over him. His glasses were still levitating-

-No, the table. They were on the table.

"I've done…"

Done what? Done what – turned me into a crazy person.


"all…. caaaaan… "

Everything was getting slower and slower, almost frozen in frame, but the spinning was getting faster.

"youuuu," he soothed, words long and low in pitch to Chad's ears. Feeling his body overcome with a dizzy sensation, he felt himself collapse into a void of darkness, slipping into unconsciousness. But that wasn't before he was able to dissect a little bit more of Pearson's dialogue.

"…trust me."

Trust me.


Weep for yourself, my man,

You'll never be what is in your heart

Weep, little lion man,

You're not as brave as you were at the start

Rate yourself and rake yourself

Take all the courage you have left

Wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head


Grace Mia Cooper had learnt in the past few months that concealing her inner turmoil was far better for Jamie and Chad for that matter. Playing happy families, pretending all the cards were together in harmony was the best option. But of course the Cooper family was always missing something. The cards never sat well together, especially the more of them that there were. Taking a sip of her tea slowly, she stared over the cup to her motionless mother. The woman was staring out the window, grip on the kitchen surface tight. The soft murmuring through the kitchen door of Doctor Pearson's voice could be heard, and sometimes mixed in with it was Chad's quiet voice.

Placing her cup on the table, Grace smiled lightly and took a step towards her mother.


"-NO! Where is it?"

That's when the two of them broke from their thoughts, rushing into the living room. The sight was shocking, everything was happening too fast. Hauling the cushion away, Chad ploughed his way through the crimson sofa. Then abruptly he threw the remaining cushions off savagely. Swallowing-hard, Grace quickly wrapped a firm hand around her mother's arm. The last thing they wanted was for her to interfere. That didn't stop Molly from yelling.

"-What's he doing Grace stop him, this has gone too far!"

Chad toppled the sofa over; it fell, bringing with it the painting on the wall behind. It fell to the ground forcefully, frame cracking a little. The deranged blonde, with vacant eyes clumsily stumbled towards Pearson in a manner that could suggest he was heavily intoxicated.

"Did you do this?" his voice was slightly slurred and low, eyes locked on the Doctor. Grace felt her heart rocket as Chad's voice rose once more.

"It was right here!"

Getting to his feet, Pearson reached over to Chad in concern, gesturing for Grace to usher her mother and herself for that matter away. She didn't move. This was her brother, she was responsible for him. Feeling the tears betray her determination, she frowned. Had she caused all this pent-up rage? She never talked to Chad about...about the situation. They pretended it wasn't happening. Pretended. Oh the irony of that.

"Calm down Mr. Cooper."

Stepping forwards without hesitation, Grace studied Chad with watery eyes.

"What's going on?" she cooed, eyes locked on her little brother.

"Someone stole my book." Chad said, anger morphing into blind panic. His mind seemed to be racing with questions, eyes distant and struggling to focus on direct objects.

"-What book?" Grace whispered, stroking her brother's shoulders soothingly.

A tremor shook his body, causing Grace to pull her brother a little closer protectively.

"My…" Chad paused, inhaling a large shaky breath. "my book."

Book? What book? What was he talking about? Grace tried desperately to figure out his meaning. He hadn't been reading anything recently. He hadn't mentioned a book. Reaching for his pulse, she was alarmed to find it was racing way above the norm. From the corner, the unsympathetic woman groaned, dismissing Chad's behaviour in disgust.

"And why would someone do that? Why?" she taunted muttering to herself 'outrage' and 'preposterous.'

A raw, gravelly voice exited Chad's mouth, loud vague words burning with fire.


"-Chad please stop shouting!" Grace hushed, watching her brother rock gently side to side and press a hand to his nose.

"Sonny Monroe never existed-" the mother continued.

Seemingly unaware of his surroundings, Chad's unclear voice resounded. Eyes clamped shut, he collapsed to the floor.

"Sh'up. Jst…sh'up pleeeease."

"-She's nothing but an illusion-"

"-Just stop it. Shut your mouth or get out of this room." Grace snapped, eyes darkening as she spun round to face her mother. She didn't waste more than a second before fiercely turning back to her brother who appeared to be losing consciousness slowly. Eyes opening, she watched her brother curl up into a ball and rock gently. Those blue eyes seemed oblivious to their surroundings, lost in a different world, lost in thoughts.

What was happening to him? Shaking him lightly, Grace watched the rocking motion get more intense. She knelt by his side in concern, holding back a choked sob. Glancing over to the Doctor, she felt her resolute nature breaking a little.

"Pearson, what's happened to him?"

Holding his glasses in his hand, Pearson moved closer to the pair before placing the glasses on the table.

"He's gone into a state of psychological shock." Cupping his mouth for a moment, Pearson released a sigh.

"This is much more serious than I first thought. I'm going to have to refer him to my colleague Doctor Newman at the Rehabilitation Centre."

Grace's heart stopped, and tears streamed down her face. After years of separation, they were taking him away, again. She couldn't even look after her brother now, she could have- she could have helped him. Feeling the hot sting of tears, Grace tried to speak in his defense. Things had been going fine before; maybe Chad was just emotionally drained. Maybe if they weren't both so god-damn stubborn, they could have got back in contact years ago. If they had - would he be in this state now? No words came out. Crouching beside the siblings, both distraught in different ways and for different reasons, the Doctor stared into Chad's empty eyes.

"I've done all I can for you now. It's the best thing for him Grace," Turning to Grace, he grabbed her hand gently, calmly. Meeting his eyes reluctantly, the woman squeezed the hand in need of support.

"Trust me."

Trust me.

Hope you enjoyed it. Feedback much appreciated.

I hope nobody takes offence to Chad having to go to a rehabilitation centre - it's a realistic story and it's not going to be an easy ride for him. Quite excited about Doctor Newman, another OC in the story.

Take care, and I'll get the last part of PART ONE up soon!