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*Petes pov*
I finally stopped crying and sat down on the couch with Brendon. I stare off into space as he talks about memories with Patrick. He brings up funeral details and I lose it again. "This is all my fault. I should've stayed. I shouldn't have gotten angry. We shouldn't have argued. It's all my fault."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter who's fault it is because he's dead either way. And there's no point dwelling on who should've done what." Brendon says in an angry tone.

"I was planning on talking things out with him once I'd calmed down. I was gonna tell him that we shouldn't break up. I was gon-" Brendon cuts me off "I don't want to hear it Pete. It's too fucking late now."

Brendon gets up again and starts pacing around the room. "It doesn't matter, what's done is done. Right now we've gotta figure out what to do for his funeral. Now, Patrick told me what he wants, I'm his best friend and he trusted me to carry this stuff out. So he's told me what he wants. However, if there's anything he told you, if there's anything you know he'd want, then please tell me." I just shake my head. We'd never even talked about it before. There was so little we'd talked about. I'd thought we had time. I thought we'd have thousands of conversations as time went by. I'd never expected it to end so suddenly. But it did...