His hands wrapped around the envelope as he held it loosely in his hands. The return address on the back told him exactly who had sent this letter, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. 

There was something unexplainably painful about holding the unopened letter in his hands. He was sure that he would now never receive anything from his newly-found friend, but almost as if Kieran was watching over him, the letter arrived.

Maybe the answer inside the letter wasn't what he was wanting to read. But he would rather know if Kieran would have approved of his plan, and if the boy did not approve, then how could he really go against a dead man's wishes?

Slipping a thumb into the slightly opening of the letter, he began to slide it across the sealed envelope.

"Posey," a soft murmur entered his hearing, causing him to shove the letter back into the inside pocket of his pressed suit. He spun around, his gaze softening as he saw the bloodshot eyes of Holland. It was time to go.

She held out her hand, no more words needed between the two as he connected their fingers. 

Black had always been a colour that suited him, he thought to himself. But standing in the sun as he watched the smooth oak coffin be carried towards them, he knew that he wouldn't be able to wear a black suit again for a long time. The colour would just remind him of this moment, as the sea of black around the green grass and brown dirt wept for the life that had been lost.

He saw her, walking directly behind the coffin. Her eyes were covered by his old ray bans, a sign that she was trying to hide her tears. He stood still. She would come to him if it was what she was needing.

And she did. Grasping his hand, she clutched to him as if he was the only ting that was still holding her to the earth beneath them. The earth that they were watching his body be lowered into. The earth that would soon surround Kieran Brett's lifeless body.

Grier wasn't sure how to react. Her tears had long dried up. She had cried for a week straight, and she was left with nothing but a deep hatred for the world for allowing her brother to have gone out like this. One stupid, misaimed bullet from a stupid piece of metal that ended his life. She had spent hours wondering what if? What if she had been there to push him out of the way? What if the madman who shot him just didn't have as easy access to the guns? What if he could have been saved?

And as she reached down, her hand pushing through the cold soil as she took a breath, she wasn't sure what she could say. But somehow, the words flowed.

"Kieran was more than just a gun victim," she told their closet friends and family that had came to the private ceremony. "He was a drummer, a brother, a cousin, a son," she paused as she realised that he would never be coming back to her. "Most importantly, he was Kieran Brett. He didn't deserve this. No-one deserves this."

She released the dirt, watching as it landed on the coffin below. 

Tyler hugged her goodbye as she left with her family. 

He got in his car.

Locked the house door behind him as he finally reached his apartment.

Threw his keys into the bowl at the door, before throwing himself on to the couch.

A crumble in his pocket reminded him of the piece of paper that would change his life.

He ripped the paper open, no-one to interrupt him now. The handwriting that was scrawled across the paper was recognisable instantly, and the man sighed as he held it tighter. He hadn't really expected a response when he had sent a letter disguised as fanmail to the Brett brother. He was too much of a coward to speak to him in person, and knew this would be more thoughtful than a text.

So he read, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher the scratchy handwriting.

Posey,

I hated you. I really did. Seeing how broken Grier was while you were off with an endless selection of girls really hurt me too. And then when you came back into the picture, I wasn't thrilled. But you had changed, and I thank you for that.

Sending your handwritten letter to the whole band address instead of my personal one was probably a stupid move, but your handwriting is so bad I'm glad more eyes were able to figure it all out.

I'm writing one back, cause I feel like this suspense will definitely kill you. And hey, while I don't hate you, justice and all that.

So yes. That's the answer to your question. A big fat yes.

From ur unofficial but basically official fake brother,

KieRaN (+the guys of WoLFPaX)

Tyler smiled to himself as he noted the stupid lower case vowels in his signature. It had been a symbol for the band, and now he would never truly be able to see a name written the same way.

The man had said yes. It was truly Kieran's last blessing to him.