The lifeless glow of dread shone upon my face. Its dull shine was less than worthless. Indeed, it bore pain. Pain hurts. Something like that cannot have value, correct? Pain has no merit, but in pain there exists a truth which one must not overlook.

My phone buzzed angrily in my hand. Distant eyes fell lazily upon the screen, watching as it rang. Evelyn raised her head, glancing at me. Smiling gently, she squeezed my hand.

"You should answer that," she said softly.

Blinking, I looked around, as if coming out of a trance. "Right, right," I agreed, nodding stupidly.

I sighed and shifted in my seat. My thumb hovered above the green answer button. Seconds ticked by as I did nothing. The buzzing dying in my hand, the call rang out.

Again, my thoughts grew distant. June needs help, as does Bark, but what can I do? I'm useless beyond making people laugh; and I'm not sure I can even do that right now. I don't, don't know. I'm just so tired.

Running her hand through my hair, Evelyn smiled. Leaning over, she kissed my forehead. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

Smiling weakly, I peered at her. "Goodnight, gorgeous," I whispered brokenly.

Ruffling my hair, Evelyn scowled. "I told you not to call me that. I swear, you're so stubborn. You really don't quit. If it wasn't so annoying it might be admirable. I might even be proud of you." Turning her back to me, Evelyn hugged a book to her chest and continued her rant.

"You can make people smile when they don't want to. You can be positive when there's no reason to. You, you don't ask for help. It's dumb. You really are such an idiot." Her voice growing quiet, Evelyn smiled as her head drooped. "I'm just lucky you're my idiot."

Not waiting for a response, Evelyn stalked away. Smile as unwavering as her trust in me. She's right, she always is. I only have a little further to go. I can't get there by doing nothing. What I want is so close.

Steeling my nerves, I scrolled through my phone and dialed June. It rang a moment and she answered. I waited, but apart from silence, all I heard was her breathing, coming staticky through the speaker.

Heart heavy, I smiled. It was so hard. I could do it for anyone; just not me. I'm so grateful for Evelyn; the one who knows the truth. She knows how much I hurt. I am not alone. Nor is June or Bark because I am here.

Clearing my head, I summoned the little strength I still had and grinned. "What's up?" I whispered.

June coughed weakly. Her voice was strained. She took a moment to clear her throat before whispering, "I screwed up."

Pouring warmth into my voice, I smiled and clenched my eyes shut, my face twisting in pain. "How so?"

"I, I should never have dated Bark. We're too different. I really like him, but our plans for the future don't match at all. We don't, we couldn't be happy together."

My lips pursing, I shook my head. "Do you regret it? Dating him, I mean."

The distress in her voice ripped in my chest and clawed at my insides. Only dimly did I register her cries of, "yes! Now, I have to breakup with him, but I don't want to hurt him. We should've just stayed friends."

June sobbed into the phone. Her nails raked across her skin. Hair a frizzy mess, her despair was palpable.

My head tilting, I sighed and shook my head. "So, you regret the memories you made?"

"J," she whispered, pleading for help. "I love him so much, but I can't be happy with him."

June wasn't the type to leap to this conclusion. Surely, she had agonized over hours, desperately searching for another solution. The fact that she called me now, like this, meant she had already given up. She already had her answer, but I still had to ask.

Gathering the last of my hope, I buried my free hand in my pocket and curled up in the armchair. "You're sure?"

For a moment the only noise was a restrained sobbing. Then came a mumbled yes, distorted through tears. Unable to refrain any longer, June broke. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes quickly growing bloodshot and puffy.

"I don't want to lose him," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

I couldn't think of anything to say; it all seemed so empty. I just wished I could hug her, tell it would be alright, but I don't know that. I can hope, and expect, but I can't know.

"June," I trailed off. My mind was so quiet. For the first time in so long, it was empty. Not a single thought to be found. Just a heaviness; a lonely heaviness. "I'll take care of him."

Fresh tears burst forth from June and she sobbed louder than before. "Thank you. Thank you, J."

She cried for a time longer. I whispered quiet reassurances, unsure of what else to do. The heaviness in my head rang relentlessly, roaring to silence my hopeless promises.

It was Bark, the ringing was my phone as it buzzed against my ear. The screen flashed with Bark's name. A new wave of pain hit me. I knew what was about to happen, but that made it no easier.

Rubbing my temples, I cleared my throat and fought desperately to keep my voice even. "June, drink some water and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

Sniffling and wiping at her nose, June nodded. "Uh-huh. Thank you, J. Goodnight."

A weak scoff escaped my lips. "Right. Sleep well, chief."

I took a deep breath before answering Bark's call. Silence echoed through the phone. Bark's voice came through a moment later. However, this was not the Bark I knew. This was not apathy, but sorrow, hurt, grief. This was a man preparing to face a death with no funeral.

"I screwed up and I don't know how," he muttered.

Collecting myself, I waited a moment before responding. I cleared my throat and nose; grunted and sighed. Inhaling deeply, I forged ahead. "What happened?"

I could hear Bark shuffling through the phone. He was shifting in his chair. Once he sits, he doesn't move until he stands again. Bark was petrified and it was so painfully obvious.

Grunting, Bark cleared his throat before speaking again. "June's been distant. She hasn't been answering my texts or calls. When I see her in person, she seems sad. I don't know what's wrong with her. I don't know how to make it better."

I'm not sure you can. Though I wish you could. Hope is a nice thought. If only it wasn't a pipe dream.

Bark's voice cracked and he sighed tiredly. "I'm scared. What happens next?"

My hand clamping over my mouth, I barely resisted the need to apologise; to tell him how sorry I was. It wasn't my fault. So why did I feel so guilty? I suppose because I know what happens next.

My voice breaking, I whispered, "June has, I think she's made up her mind."

There was a thump as Bark's hand fell to the desk. His head hung low. His jaw wrenched shut, face empty as ever. Voice however, that revealed all which he felt. I couldn't know all his pain, but that didn't stop my heart from cracking. It was then, in the next moments. Those are the words that broke me.

"She didn't even try."

A pain flared in my chest. A pain so gut-wrenching, you feel it to your core. A pain so cruel the sky seems to fall. A pain so violent and aching, you can only know it, if you have felt it.

It was all I could do to whisper, "I'm sorry."

Brokenly, he sobbed. "I thought we could work. I tried. I really did."

"You did good."

Bark shook his head viciously, not wanting to believe it. "Then why, why is this happening? J, I don't want to lose her."

My words were cheap lies. Convenient fables to bury emotion. I knew that, but I would not give up on this man. I promised to take care of him, and of her too. I promised myself that they would be okay. No matter how long it took. Eventually, we would find the answer.

Steeling my voice, I spoke gently. "I don't know what will happen, and I don't know why. I know you fought for her. I know you tried. You did good, and I'm sorry."

Bark dropped the phone and it clattered onto his desk. He gripped his head in his hands, wishing the pain away, but it was as steady as the silent tears escaping my friend.

"You'll be okay."