rucasland, rucas one shots.

falling to pieces.

We're told that we can face any obstacles life might throw at us as long as we have our friends and family there to help us through. What do you do when you don't have your freinds, nor your family? What if they're the vary reason you're breaking down behind closed doors, and plastering the fakest of smiles on?

This didn't start when I fell in love with him, no, this godforsaken pain has been building within me for much longer than that. Lucas was merely my breaking point. She's my best friend and I know she would do anything for me, but she's tearing me apart and has no idea she's doing it.

She can't control who my mother considers more of a daughter, or how he feels, nor can she change her own feelings. I don't blame her for any of this, or at least I'm trying not to. Does that make me an awful best friend?

Believe me, if I could get rid of this horrendous feeling in my stomach, I would. I hate feeling so envious of someone I consider a sister, and that's not even the worst part about this whole triangle thing.

The most terrible part of this is I can't talk to her about because if I did, she'd undoubtedly cover up her feelings for him. I hate this, I hate it all. This is why we're given best friends in life, to put our broken hearts back together, but it seems as if I'm going to have to pick myself back up -- even if I have to everyday and everytime I see them.

This might not be the last time I have to hide in the back of the bakery, crouched down behind a shelf of flour with a hand covering my mouth to silence the cries that so desperately threaten to escape my lips, and if it's not, then maybe it will get easier every time. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to somehow become immune to the heartbreak.

I guess they assumed I'd be here since I usually am on Friday's at closing time because when I heard the bell on the door ding, knowing I had put out the 'closed' sign, I was met with the group sitting in the longue area, a certain blonde girl sitting rather close to and comfortably with a certain blonde boy.

Fortuanetly, I was able to slip to the back, already in no condition to fake laughs after watching the pair when they were partnered up in art class today. They flirted shamelessly, not even the sound of Darby's enthusiastically loud voice could distract me from making glances towards them where I'd more often than not find them too entralled in eachother to paint what pain is to them, the assignment.

The sound of giggles my best friend is eliciting and Lucas' chuckles confirm their flirting has yet to cease, and I couldn't help but feel like the walls are closing in on me. It didn't much longer until I couldn't hold it in any longer. The overwhelming jealousy of my best friend making Lucas laugh soon turned to guilt, as if I wasn't already up to my neck in guilt, and I just broke -- something I've found myself doing a lot lately.

"Down, down, do your dance," I heard the voice, entering the kitchen as he sang, sounding like a dying moose, what I recognize to be the Cupid Shuffle. Interesting choice, but it is Zay so you get what you pay for. He goes on to sing the rest of the song, mumbling the rap, I assume he didn't know the words. "Maya, what shelf did you say the pickles are on?"

Of course, stealing food from this establishment. Again, I can't say I'm surprised.

My best friend's voice rings from the front of the bakery, "Check the second the bottom shelf!" He hums a tune as he rummages before the giant jar of pickles that's covering my face from this side of the shelf is moved, the peeking light of the kitchen revealing me to the Texan boy. "Did you find them? Do you need me to come show you?" She offers after recieving a reply.

My pleading eyes flicker to Zay, "No, I found them. Give me a second, you stay up there!" I hesistantly remove my cupped hand from my mouth, releasing a sigh of relief. He whispers softly, "Riley? Are you crying? Why are you crying?"

Before I can reply, a loud laugh comes from the front of the store, "Maya, stop!" His tone wasn't at all reprimanding, but happy and amused. He's happy and amused with my best friend.

Zay seems to connect the dots pretty quickly after that, "I guess no one's really asked you how you've been feeling about all of this, have they?"

My gaze drops from his sympathetic eyes, and I shake my head. "I don't know how's she so okay with all of this. She makes it look so easy, like there's no triangle at all -- and maybe there's not," I return with a frown.

His eyes widen, "God, Riley, I had no idea the triangle was doing this to you. Isn't this the thing you'd normally go to Maya about?"

"I can't really go to Maya about this, ya know?" He exhales, still looking at me from the other side of the shelf, and nods. "It's all just a really big mess, she's my best friend and he's my -- he's not my anything. God," I breathe, growing frustrated.

I can tell Zay wishes there was something he could do, "He talks about you --"

"You don't have to do that, you don't have to make me feel better or try to give me some hope. I think its pretty safe to say that his choice has been made, and I just feel stupid for waiting for him for so long." My lip quivers, and I choke back a sob, "I hate this all so much."

My eyes flutter shut, hoping to catch the tears from flowing down my cheeks when I feel a pair of arms wrap around me, "So do I."

I've never thought of Zay as a shoulder to cry on, not because he's a bad guy or anything, but because he's just a clown. It's not a flaw, definitely not, but it's not a comforting virtue. His hand rubs soothingly on my arms as my frame shakes, fighting to hold back my whimpers.

I'm not ashamed of crying, we all have our breaking points. I'm ashamed of crying because my best friend is happy with the people who make me happy. I should be supportive and ecstatic for her, but it's much harder to be overjoyed when you're falling to pieces.

"It hurts, Zay, it hurts so terribly bad that I'm actually hiding from my friends behind a shelf on flour and pickles," I'm surprised I didn't earn a laugh from my phrasing, but he didn't laugh.

He sighs, "This really sucks, Cotton Candy Face. I'm so sorry, you shouldn't have to go through all of this alone -- you shouldn't have to go through it all. I wish I could knock some sense into Lucas, but he's got to come to the realization for himself."

"Zay? What's taking you so long?" Lucas' smooth voice hollers from the front.

My eyes dart to Zay, and I shake my head, "Nothing, I'll be right out! Give me a second!" I exhale in relief again, thanking him with my gaze. He nods, "I'll come back in a few minutes, and try to get them to leave or something. Don't you worry, Smiley, you can come to me when you're feeling blue over my dick of a best friend." Profanity.

"Thank you, Zay," I whisper as his arms retreat from me.

He stands back to his full height, and pats my head with a smile, "Eat a pickle until I get back."

I scrunch my nose in disgust, "I don't like pickles."

He gasps, "Well, then I take back everything I just said." I giggle, rolling my teary eyes. "I'll be back in a few. You're going to be okay, little Cotton Candy Face."