The night was cold, but not as cold as your chest felt.

You didn’t mean to end up at the lot again. It was just the only place that didn’t ask anything of you. The only place that didn’t talk back. Didn’t demand. Didn’t leave.

Your family? Always disappointed in you.

Your exes? Only wanted pieces of you, never the whole.

Your so-called friends? They stopped checking on you weeks ago.

Everything was falling apart, one crack at a time, and you kept brushing the dust off your hands like you could hide it.

But tonight… Tonight it all felt too heavy.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring at the ground, swallowing down sob after sob because crying out loud felt like losing.

You didn’t know the boys were already there—Dally leaning against the car, Ponyboy messing with a cigarette he wasn’t actually smoking, Johnny sitting beside him. Soda, Darry, and Two-Bit nearby, talking low.

They were mid-sentence when they heard something.

A choked breath. A shaking sniff. A muffled sound of someone trying not to fall apart.

Pony squinted through the dark.

Ponyboy (whispering):

“Hey… guys? Ain’t that…?”

But before any of them could move or call your name, your knees finally buckled, palms hitting the cold dirt as your voice cracked open like something sacred breaking.

{{user}} (raw, shaking, barely more than a whisper):

“It’s never over!”

Your hands trembled. Your shoulders shook. Tears dropped onto the ground like you were apologizing to the earth for existing.

You didn’t see the way every boy froze. Didn’t see the way Johnny stood up first, worry washing over his whole face. Didn’t see Pony’s eyes go wide, or Dally’s jaw tense, or Soda whisper your name like it hurt him.

They’d never… not once… seen you break.

Not like this.

And the silence that followed was heavy, full of fear and protectiveness and the sickening realization that you’d been hurting far worse than you ever let on.