Brendon was released two days before he went back to school. He wanted to visit Ryan, but he was met by the same restrictions that his friends had relayed to him. He was turned away and ended up curled under his blankets until he was forced to attend school again.

The school campus held its own sense of gloom. When Brendon passed his friends, no one looked up from the ground or greeted each other. Even the usually energetic lunch group was silent. Tyler was absent, leaving Josh to sit by himself until Hayley scooted to his side and held onto his arm. Patrick leaned on Pete's shoulder, just staring at his food. No one knew what to say.

When Brendon reached his drama class, he walked in on the loudest conversation he had heard all day; a debate between some of the students and miss Mulany.

"Half of us didn't even get a chance to perform!" Someone Brendon didn't recognize, probably from another class, was arguing, "I get that some kid tried to off himself in your later class, but why do the rest of us have to suffer?"

Brendon's fist clenched at his side before he was fully conscious of it. Who was this kid, and what right did he have to talk about Ryan like that?

"That's my friend you're talking about." Pete glared at the student. He was in the room before Brendon had arrived, so he must have heard more of the conversation.

The boy ignored him and pressed on, "What about our grades? We wouldn't have earned them."

"I honestly don't see why you're complaining about an automatic passing grade." Miss Mulany responded with exasperation. She looked stressed; her hair was messy and out of place, and bags were forming under her eyes. "That's enough of this conversation. I need to write you a pass now that you're late for your next class." She spun to move towards her office and the student, though still visibly irritated, followed.

Pete continued to glare at the student until he disappeared into Miss Mulany's office. He was turning to walk away when he caught Brendon's gaze. He smiled, weakly. "How are you holding up?"

Brendon shrugged. He opened his mouth to respond with I'm alive, but the words caught in his throat as his brain registered them.

Pete walked over and patted Brendon's shoulder. "Have you seen him yet?"

"I can't." Brendon's voice cracked with the words before cutting out completely. He wanted to explain how he was pushed away and denied access, but the words failed. He instead allowed the silence to wrap itself around him.

Pete looked down for a moment. "I'm sorry. I know you two used to be a thing, and you're still friends..." Pete trailed off, as if unsure where to take his thought. Brendon just nodded to save him the trouble.

After a short silence, Brendon found himself standing alone. Patrick was sitting on the ground next to Pete, playing with Pete's fingers as he leaned on his shoulders. Brendon let himself drop to the floor. He was out of the way enough, near some cabinets by the door. He pulled his knees up to his chest and looked around the room.

Max was looking down at the yellow skirt he had worn for his, Patrick, and Tyler's performance while speaking lowly to Steven and Josh. Tyler still didn't appear to be here today. Hayley was sitting next to Kenny, working on what appeared to be some kind of homework. Brendon was about to bring his eyes to the floor to his side when he heard a soft noise beside him. He turned to see Dallon sinking to the ground next to him.

"Hey."

Brendon turned away from Dallon, ignoring the greeting. He didn't want to talk to Dallon. Maybe it was the lack of butterflies in his stomach. Maybe it was just this burning numbness in his chest. He didn't know, but he just didn't want the interaction.

"Look, Brendon..." Dallon placed a hand on Brendon's shoulder, but Brendon jerked his arm away. There was a brief pause. "I just want to help."

"Help by going away." Brendon horsly whispered, hugging his knees tighter.

"Brendon, I know you won't go see a councilor to talk about this." Dallon pressed, "I just... I... We-"

Brendon put his forehead against his knees. He begged in his head for Dallon to go away and just leave him alone; let him process this. Let him try to figure out why. No one had heard from Ryan, and nobody had found a note-

A note.

Brendon's head shot up. Ryan had passed him a note just before their performance. Tears began to fill his eyes as he scrambled to push himself up to his feet.

"Brendon?" Dallon's confused voice didn't register in Brendon's ears as he rushed towards the costumes.

When he had woken up in the hospital, he hadn't been wearing the trenchcoat from the performance. Why hadn't he remembered? Ryan had given him something to slip in his pocket. What if that was...

Brendon nearly tripped over someone's backpack, but he didn't let it stop him. He continued, practical crashing into the hanging costumes before rifling through them like a madman.

"C'mon..." He urged each different material to be the costume he needed. It took another minute of search before he froze.

The trenchcoat had been pushed back and was hanging as if it had been put up by shaky hands. He reached out, but hesitated. Was he remembering right? What if he wasn't?.. But what if he was? Did he really want that real confirmation of what Ryan tried to do?..

He shook his head. He shut his eyes, tightly, reaching out and feeling for the pocket. It was a blind search, but his hand quickly found it. He dipped his hand in, letting his fingers trail along the smooth pocket interior. He sucked in a breath when they brushed against a folded paper. His eyes shot open and he snatched it up like his life depended on it.

"Brendon, are you okay?" Brendon felt a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly pulled away and ducked under whoever's arm was outstretched.

"I need to go to the bathroom!" He declared, loudly before breaking into a sprint towards the drama room door. The faces of his friends and classmates were blurs as he pushed out into the hall.

He hoped no one asked for a pass.

The bathroom was past a curve in the hallway, which Brendon was only able to find due to pure instinct. His vision was blurred by an unexpected wetness that he blinked away after slamming a stall door shut.

He gasped as a sob rocked his body. When had the tears gotten this bad? He leaned against the wall of his stall, feeling himself slip down to the floor. The floor was disgusting, but he didn't care. He needed to calm down.

Calming down took longer than he thought it would.

Once the sobs were just soft hums and his tears had become a slight boarder of water against his eye, he looked down at the note. It was a small square of folded notebook paper. Nothing too significant unless you knew the words it held.

Brendon held his breath. He needed to know, but he was afraid. His hands shook as he carefully unfolded the paper.

He was afraid... But he needed to know.