Spencer's not gay.....is he?
"Stop it," Spencer told himself. "You're not gay. You are straight. You like girls." Still, his words were hollow. Brendon's face flooded his thoughts. Spencer didn't think he could take another minute of Brendon being so perfect. Several times a day Spencer resisted the urge to grab Brendon and pull him close, and kiss him all day. 2 nights ago, when they had slept in the same bed, Spencer only pretended to fall asleep. When he was sure Brendon was out cold, he had confessed his love for him. Then he leaned over and kissed him in his sleep, and he saw Brendon smile a little. When Spencer slept, he had a dream that Brendon had done the same to him. Maybe Spencer was gay after all. Maybe? Definitely. And he was gay for Brendon. Just being around Brendon made Spencer want to scream. He loved Brendon, but would never be loved back because Brendon had eyes for someone else. That asshole of a friend; Ryan Ross. They had been best friends. Then Brendon confessed his love, and that dick went and broke Brendon's fragile little heart. He deserved better. He remembered how sad Brendon was for months, he could hear the sobs late at night. Sometimes he would wake up and find Brendon's sheets bloody from slitting his wrists. He had pretended to be mad at Brendon for doing this to himself, but really he was mad at Ryan. He did this to Brendon. It was all his fault. It was good that Brendon would be gone for a while. It could help Spencer take his mind off things.
Spencer sighed and walked upstairs to Brendon's room. He would go in and lay on his be sometimes when Brendon wasn't home, just to smell his sweet scent. A little creepy, but he didn't regret it. He walked in the room and took a whiff. Strawberries. That's what Brendon had always smelled like. Whenever they hugged, Spencer didnt want to let go, so he could ruffle his hands through Brendon's hair and absorb that strawberry smell. Spencer closed his eyes and started walking over to the bed. Crunch! He stepped on what sounded like broken glass. Spencer opened his eyes an looked down. It was a smashed picture frame turned upside down. Spencer sighed and picked it up. Upon turning it over, he gasped. It was a now smashed picture of him and Brendon. Spencer dropped the photo and started sobbing. Brendon hates him. He smashed the only photo he kept intact in his rage. He must have done it this morning, it wasn't there when he came in in the middle of the night to make sure Brendon didn't have a razor blade. Spencer let out a cry of despair and threw his face into Brendon's pillow. He sobbed even harder when he caught the unmistakeable fruity scent. He cried for hours, whispering Brendon's name into the pillow repeatedly. "Brendon, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." When he was positive he couldn't cry any more, he sat up and breathed deeply. He turned over and looked at the nightstand, where the picture had once been standing. His eyes rested on a single razor blade.
"Maybe just a few..." Spencer thought, as he reached over to grab it. His hand hovered for a few moments, then decided to pick it up. He brushed the tears out of his stinging eyes and held out his wrist. He knew better than to resort to self harm, but he didn't have anything to lose anymore.