"What the fuck do you mean by he's dead?!" I yell at Doctor Cooper. He shows no sympathy as he repeats exactly what he told me before. "I don't believe it! You didn't fucking try hard enough!" I poke his chest. Doctor Hofstadter comes out of nowhere and pulls me away from Sheldon.

"What is up with you guys trying to kill my ass of a boyfriend?" He groans, pushing me up against the wall. When I move, he gives me a death stare. "Stay there!"

"Fuck both of you," I say, pushing past them as I leave the hospital. He's gone. I can't believe it. I refuse. My Pete can't be dead.

Fuck this. Fuck life. Fuck everything. I can't live without him. I was so stupid to let him go like that. I was stupid to leave him in the first place.

If I wouldn't have left, Pete would still be alive and in love with me and not fucking dead.

Then it occurs to me that my literal world is dead. As in, I'll never see him again, dead. As in, he's gone forever, dead. As in, I fucked up so bad, dead.

Andy and Joe probably blame me. Well, not me. Patrick. They blame the son of a bitch I left behind. I, Kaleb Shane Robinson, didn't do anything to make them blame me.

I'm not Patrick anymore. I'm not who he was. I'm Kaleb. I'm me. I'm the me I was afraid to show everyone.

Patrick would've never gotten one tattoo, much less twenty-seven. Patrick would've never re-dyed his hair. Patrick would've never become a bartender.

Kaleb, who is so unlike Patrick that I can't even see straight, would've done all of the above without even thinking twice about it. And he fucking did. I fucking did.

I like that. I'm risky now; dangerous, if you will. I don't give a fuck about anyone or anything.

Except Pete. That's the one thing that Patrick and I have in common. We both fell for Pete.

He's breathtaking. Intoxicating in all of the right ways. Loving, grateful, a bunch of other shit that I don't have time for.

I just know I need something that'll be as intoxicating as he i -- was. I need something that will make me forget about everything.

Before all of this shit with Rian happened, I would've used Pete as the answer to the question that was asked above.

But not anymore. Not anymore because he can't. He is incapable of doing anything, because he's basically dead.

'He's not entirely dead yet,' Doctor Cooper had said. 'But if he doesn't respond within the next two hours, we're going to declare him brain dead.'

And then he told me that I could go see Pete. Like that will make anything better! News fucking flash, it won't.

It didn't. Not seeing him like that. He wouldn't want anyone to see him like that, I already know. He'd make everyone get out except for Andy.

His cold, lifeless body that didn't move a centimetre when I squeezed his hand. Didn't move a centimetre when Andy or Joe tried to wake him up after me.

It won't. I'm smart enough to know that. Besides, Pete wouldn't want me to be there when -- if -- he wakes up. He would want Patrick, and I don't know if I can give him that.

Being Kaleb makes me think. Makes me feel good and bad at the same time. Makes me feel like I could conquer the fucking world.

Being Patrick is so.. old. Being Patrick is boring. I don't want to go back. He killed Pete. Not Kaleb. Kaleb is a good guy. Patrick, on the other hand, is not.

This is the part when a miracle is supposed to happen. I'm supposed to get a call from Andy or Joe about how, in the last five minutes of the two hours, Pete wakes up.

But he won't. He won't wake up. He won't ever wake up. And I couldn't stand being Patrick knowing that he is responsible for the death of an amazing guy named Peter Wentz.

I suddenly laugh. Dry and hard that hurts my throat. Pete's dead. Dead and gone, and I'll never see him again.

"I heard the news," Gabe says when I arrive at my apartment. "Fucking sucks, man. Just let me know if you ever need anything, Kale,"

I don't ever see him, much less speak another word to Gabe. I moved out that night, hoping to disappear.

Until Pete's funeral, at least. Then I'd find a way to really disappear and start over as Kaleb Shane Robinson. To maybe find someone new. Someone that looks so much like Pete, it hurts to look at him.

Yeah, that sounds about right to me.

I think something died inside me when I saw Pete. Things over the last three months since I picked back up with Pete died inside of me.

The first time he told me Rian hit him.

The first time I saw the proof myself.

The first time he found out that Kaleb and Patrick are the same person; me.

The first time I heard he was brain dead.

The first time I realised that I fucking took a man's life that wasn't a criminal!

I took Pete's fucking life away from him.

And Bronx will have to grow up without a father figure.

I took a man away from his son! A kid away from his father!

I did the worst thing a guy could do. I fucked up in the worst possible ways.

I could always take the easy way out and blame my deadbeat father, but I won't. I won't simply because it's my fault. My fault that Pete is dead and won't ever see Bronx, Andy, Joe, Ashlee, etcetera.

My fault for falling in love in the first place.

As I let out another laugh, I continue walking away from my apartment. I have nothing except the clothes on my back.

Why would I need anything else? I plan on disappearing as soon as Pete's funeral is over.

I have to leave this town (state and maybe country, too), and I'm going to.

there is one more chapter left.

don't be too, too upset, little ones.

things could lie ahead in the next chapter.

jk pete's dead don't kill me with wasps pls.