//I usually put a quote here, but instead I just wanted to say, I am very proud of you for waking up today, you are very brave. Existing is very hard sometimes but that's okay. I am proud of you even if all you did today was exist. I am proud of you for existing.//

**

Four days. We have been at the Rayners guest house for four days now because the storm wouldn't clear up and got even worse by the hour.

Weather reports say that this is the biggest blizzard that has hit Europe to date, all airports, and main roads are closed off for safety. Michael says it's the rage of their fandom because we couldn't make it to the last show.

I'm pretty convinced it's the latter too because the hail outside seems pretty angry at the world.

I stare out the window while I'm sat on the edge of the tub, fully clothed with my socked feet inside it. It is too cold to take a bath or I would have and it's the only quiet place in the entire guest house. Luke and I have been sharing a room and the entire bathroom smells like his aftershave, I inhale breath after breath of it.

The band has opted for making music over being upset at not being able to make the show. They are writing music and making enough noise to drown out the hailing outside and the thoughts in their heads.

Ashton had a screaming contest with Sammy over the phone once they started working, it was about the fans getting a refund. I don't know who won the screaming contest but I hope it was Ashton.

Christmas is only a couple of days away and no one is talking about how much they wanted to be home for it this year. I wanted to get back to New York, it always felt like the most magical city during this time of year and I doubt I could go through another quiet dinner with my family in London even though we parted on good terms this time.

"Hey you," Montana says from behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts with a jolt.

"Hey," I smile up at her as she closes the door and joins me on the ledge of the tub, putting her legs in like I have.

We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, looking out the window. "It's all very beautiful, isn't it?" She whispers like our talking might stop the snow fall outside.

"It is." I agree. A few more minutes pass in silence and she sighs.

"He was cheating on me, Sierra," Montana whispers, her voice cracking this time. I feel the air in my lungs stop moving with the cracking of her voice, my already cold fingers starting to collect frost.

"What?" I turn to her, my eyes widening and my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, not knowing what to respond with.

"I walked in on him in bed with some chick. They were both drunk off their asses and he was high."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask softly, taking her hands in mine.

"Because I don't know if he was really cheating on me or if he was just drunk. He can't remember it, and I didn't tell him either. He woke up next to me the next day and I chose not to tell him because I—I love him too much S." A tear slips free and I lean backwards, reaching for the tissue box on the counter.

"I try to hate him and ignore him so I can dump his ass. But I can't, I can't do it. He—he makes me feel so much my heart aches, Sierra. It hurts—" The dam breaks along with the armour she had wrapped tightly around her and she leans into me, her body wracking with sobs.

Tears spring into my eyes, refusing to be contained even for her sake. "Shhh, baby." I try to soothe her, rubbing her back.

"It hurts so much." She cries, gasping for air.

"I know. I know. You held it for so long love, let go of it." I say and her arms tighten around me for support as she cries out all the pain that has been knotted in her chest.

She sniffles after a few minutes, having calmed down a little. "I can't do it anymore."

"You need to talk to him. He must be as confused as you. You have to tell him. Ignoring Calum will only hurt you more Monti." I wipe at my eyes as she straightens so she doesn't see my tears.

"I want to, but I can't lose him, Sierra." Another wave of emotion crosses her face and she buries her face in her hands. I pull them away and gently raise her head to look up at me. "He loves you. Do you hear me? He loves you." She nods her head.

"—and he would never want you to keep this in and hurt over it. You tell him and if he makes a decision to leave for some reason that I cannot fathom, you let him go and I will help you, I will help you brave through it just like you have always done it for me."

Another wave of tears pool in her eyes and spill down her cheeks as she nods. "I love you." She hugs me, smiling a little through the tears, the load she was carrying in her chest unloading a bit.

"I love you most."

---

Two Years Ago

One step. Just one step forward and it will all be over.

The cold December air stings my skin as it whips by me every time a car whooshes by, honking and rushing away down the busy streets of New York.

Just step off the pavement Sierra.

Coming to New York was a mistake. Deciding to join fashion school was a mistake. Everything is a bloody mistake.

Fix the mistake, just take a step forward love.

Heath is gone. I have nothing left. He is...not here...not anymore.

You can see him again, step forward. They hiss in my head, loud enough to drown out the noises of the city that never sleeps. This could be put off as a mistake, an accident, maybe even God will forgive me if it looks like a mistake because I too am a mistake.

Go on darling girl. You can do it. You have nothing else left remember?

I hold my breath, my eyes focused on the grey road just a step away from me, all kinds of vehicles passing over it. The cold has numbed my body enough that hopefully, I won't feel much.

I'm coming for you, Heath.

I close my eyes and the grey roads disappear, spinning me into a void of black. I can do this.

On the count of three

One...

I force my lips to form the words and squeeze my eyes shut.

Two...

Th—

"What are you doing?" A girl shouts close to my ear, taking a tight hold of both my arms.

"Are you okay?" She asks rapidly as I start to pull away from the stranger.

"Let go of me!" I scream at her but don't dare open my eyes to look, if I look, this will be just another failure.

You can't have another failure. He is waiting for you.

"No! I know that look, the way you're just standing there. I know what you're going to do and I won't let you." The stranger says as I struggle against her, her grip like a vice around me.

"Please, let me go," I beg her, my limbs too weak and numb to fight her off. I could push through but I would drag her with me and I would never want to hurt someone else, never.

"You don't have to do this, you don't have to take your own life. You are so talented, you have so much going for you sweetheart, please." The girl keeps begging.

A whimper leaves my lips when I give in and open my eyes to look at the stranger. She is a familiar face but I cannot place her. Her short brown hair is blowing around her and she is looking at me with such intensity that it springs shameful tears into my eyes.

"I have nothing going for me. I have nothing! I am nothing." I scream at her and manage to loosen one of my hands from her grip.

"You don't want to do this. You don't want to take your own life or you would have done it when you were alone." The girls states.

I did try, but the pain was always much greater and the voices would get quieter every time. I want them to go away for good.

"Sometimes we do things we don't want to for the people we love," I say and glare at the girl, my breath puffing in front of me and my chest tightening, I can feel the panic attack making its way back up where it has been quiet since last night.

"A person you love and one that loves you would never ask this of you. Tell me about this loved one, come on, move away from the edge of the pavement and tell me. I want to know everything about this person, tell me." She urges me, turning us away from the busy roads.

"I don't know who you are, why are you helping me?"

"My name is Montana Cases. We're in the same design class at Springsteen," she points at the direction she came from.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, but listen to me, listen to me when I say you don't want this."

"You—you designed the new era of Destiny's Child for midterms." I murmur, recognising the Asian girl with the Australian accent who gave all the other students a run for their money.

"Yes! That's me. Yes." She smiles brightly and loosens the grip on my arm as I realise she is pulling me away from the main roads and into an alleyway where there are a couple of homeless people sleeping next to rodent infested garbage cans.

"These people," she says quietly, jerking her head towards a young looking boy who is passed out among a couple of old cardboard boxes with grime covering every inch of his body. He is most probably high or drunk.

"—they are the ones who have nothing going for them, but do you see them trying to fling themselves into oncoming traffic?" She questions.

I stare at the boy, my eyes focusing and unfocusing, spinning thoughts spinning a little less.

"They would do anything, anything for all you have left, even if it's not a lot. If you can't be the person you were without the person you lost, be a new one. Be better. Be okay." She tucks her short brown hair behind her ear, letting go of my arm altogether.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"So I can win a Nobel Peace Prize, duh." She huffs with mock enthusiasm, rolling her eyes.

I stare at the boy on the ground and the girl who just saved my life. Back and forth

Back and forth.

I start to laugh, uncontrollably. So much so that she drags us out of the alleyway before someone wakes up and we get mugged or worse.

"Why are you laughing?" She asks bewildered and the laughing gets worse. I bend over and empty the contents of my stomach onto the street, starting to dry heave as there is nothing in my stomach. I haven't eaten in a couple of days.

I start to get feeling back into my muscles, painful but feeling nonetheless. The girl, Montana, hands me a tissue and rubs my back.

I lean against the brick wall of the abandoned building and laugh again until my chest and sides are sore and there are tears streaming down my face, eventually turning into sobs.

Montana puts her hands on my shoulders and straightens me up, wrapping her arms around me and laying my head on her shoulder.

She hums as my shaking arms go around her, craving human contact. "Cry as much as you like, laugh it all out too. But I promise you, you will be okay."