Hey. I needed to say something before you continue on with the story. I am far from the happiest person. I try; we all have our good days and bad, but I feel like, many days, a dark cloud looms-fueled by the negativity of those around me. This book was one of the ways I was trying to work through some of the things in my head & just create to keep my mind busy... I had the plot thought out since the beginning, but I never wanted things to correlate with real life like they did on the day that I posted the last chapter.

I posted that at 4am... About 4 hours later, the news about Chester hit.

I was and still am heartbroken over his passing, but I also felt like absolute shit for posting about a fictional attempt on the same day that someone I looked up to went through with it...

I really don't know what to say, or if it was necessary for me to say anything at all, but I just hope that if you need help you'll look for it. Whether it be through an anonymous call service or a therapist or a friend... Please don't go away too soon. I know it's hard. I know it's a struggle. I know it can fucking hurt, but you'll never see tomorrow if you don't make it past today...

I'm sticking with my original plans with the story, so just know that it won't be as happy & cheery as it started...

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Brendon's head rolled to its side.

Owch.

His expression scrunched in pain as a throbbing sensation was set into motion near the back of his skull. What the hell?..

"I think he's waking up!" A familiar voice exclaimed, but Brendon couldn't place it past the throbbing. It took a few moments, but he slowly began to pull his eyelids apart.

His mother was looking over him with worry while several other worried faces huddled behind her. His friends?

"You're up." His mother smiled, though stress was evident on her face.

"When did I fall asleep?" Brendon's voice came out like a croak, causing him to start coughing. One of his friends, Patrick, rushed forward with a juice pouch.

"You hit your head on the stage." He explained as he held the juice out to Brendon, "The paramedics took you just to be sure your concussion wasn't too bad."

Brendon hesitated to take the juice from Patrick. "Concussion?"

Brendon's mother back stepped, muttering something about making a call before vanishing from the room. He was now left with Patrick, Pete, Hayley, and Josh.

"You went down pretty hard." Josh spoke lowly, rubbing his arm and avoiding looking at Brendon.

"Why did I fall?"

Everyone in the room exchanged a glance.

"What?"

"The doctor said your memory right before it happened may be a bit fuzzy." Patrick explained as tears began to fill his eyes.

Brendon's grip on the juice tightened, causing some to spill from the straw. "What happened?" He could remember being at the school. He was standing with Ryan off stage before sharing a kiss and moving onstage. Was there something else? That's where it felt hard to remember. Had something happened? "Where's Ryan?"

Hayley turned to hide her face in Pete's chest. He held his arms around her, gently, while directing an unsure gaze towards Patrick. The shorter boy gulped, as if he had even less to provide.

It was Josh who eventually spoke.

"Ryan attempted suicide." He said, still refusing to look up.

Brendon's heart stopped. "He... What?" No. Sure, he hadn't been his usual, carefree or cheery self, but...

"He messed with the prop." Patrick was barely speaking above a whisper, "You're the only reason he isn't dead, Brendon."

"Paramedic said he wouldn't have lasted on the verge for another thirty seconds." Pete added, finally having found words.

"Me?" Brendon croaked again. He forced his brain to recount the events again, but it was still eluding him. He couldn't remember what happened onstage. "I don't..."

"You held him up before he got cut down." Patrick blinked, letting the tears cascade down his cheeks.

"No..." Brendon looked down at the white sheets that covered his body. Ryan wouldn't... Ryan had so many people to talk to!.. Ryan couldn't... "Is he okay?"

Hayley kept her face buried in Pete's chest. Josh shrugged. More silent tears streamed down Patrick's face. Pete had to be the strong voice that answered. "He is, but not here. They took him to the hospital across town because..." He paused, as if a lump had formed in his throat. It took him a minute to continue, "They have better psychological aids..."

"We need to go see him!" Brendon grabbed the corner of the sheet that covered him and was about to throw it off. He stopped, however, when Patrick lightly placed his hand on top of Brendon's.

"He's not awake and they won't take visitors." He said as more tears pooled in his eyes, "When he does wake up, he'll be on suicide watch for a bit and they still won't allow visitors, at first."

Brendon felt tears welding up in his own eyes. This couldn't be real. The boy he flirted constantly with. The boy he had opened up to on countless occasions. The boy who stole his first kiss...

The boy who wanted a permanent end to whatever struggles he was facing.

"I..." The words failed to come out. Brendon suddenly felt so cold. Someone so close to him was almost gone. Ryan almost left the world without a single goodbye... Or did Brendon's goodbye come in the form of the kiss?

That broke the dam that held Brendon's tears at bay.

He hunched forward, hiding his face in his hands as shakes wracked his body. He could feel someone holding him but, at the same time, he felt so numb to the world around him. He could only hear his own sobs. He could only picture those last moments with Ryan before the fuzziness set in.

He had the thoughts of such an act cross over his mind before, but he had never considered Ryan's mind to go to such dark places. How could he have known? He should have looked past what was happening in his own head to recognize the signs; Ryan had grown so cold... Why didn't he try harder to see?

Brendon could feel his grip tighten around a fabric, but it wasn't clear who or what it belonged to. He just needed a grip on reality. He needed to hold onto something to avoid the damning thought of it should have been me.