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Brendon looked over the side of the overpass, and sighed.
Why was he doing this, again?
Oh yeah, because of Ryan.
That's not a good enough reason, his reasonable side said.
Shut up he thought back at himself.
Of course it was a good enough reason.
He loved Ryan, with the very essence of his being.
But Ryan didn't love him back.
Never had, never would.
He tried to repress the memory, but Ryan's harsh words replayed in his mind, his will crumbling to dust when he remembered the smooth bell tones of Ryan's voice.


"Um, Ryan, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure, Bren, what's up?"
"Um, well, I don't really know how to say this...it's kindof awkward, but um-"
"Omigod, Brendon, youre pregnant, aren't you. Please tell me youre not pregnant."
"Jesus, Ryan, I'm not pregnant. And shut up, this isn't something to joke around with."
"Wow, you really are serious. What's on your mind?"
"Well...you know, we're best friends, and um...well, you know that I like to be around you and stuff, and um...well, lately, it's been kinda more than that, ya know, and...um-"
"Jeez, would you get on with it? I have to catch America's Next Top Model in 5 minut-"
"I FUCKING LOVE YOU, OKAY?!?!?!"

fast forward, through Brendon running away into his room.
play, at Ryan bursting in after him.

"What, the hell, was that Brendon."
"Didn't you hear me the first time? I love you!"
"Brendon...that's not normal."
"I...what?"
"I said, that's not normal. Guys aren't supposed to like guys. That's really weird."
"I know its weird...can't you at least try to understand?"
"I'm sorry Brendon, but that's just too weird for me. I grew up hating gay people. It's in my nature."
"Ryan..."
"Get a life, Brendon. You're fucked up."

fast forward, through massive amounts of crying on Brendon's part.
fast forward, through Brendon writing the note, stratigically placed in Ryan's eyeliner box.
fast forward, through the car ride to the overpass, grim determination showing in Brendon's every feature.
play, at Brendon standing at the top of the overpass.

So it goes.

Why am I doing this? he asked himself again.
This time, his depressed side answered him.
Because, Ryan hates you now. He won't talk to you, or even look at you, remember? By now, you're pretty much fucking up his life.
A single tear slid down his cheek as he remembered.
"I'm doing it for Ryan." he assured himself as he inched closer to the edge.
He stopped, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a worn picture of Ryan, smiling, with his arm around Brendon's shoulders.
He stared at the picture for a few moments, even thinking he could hear Ryan calling his name from the picture.
Brendon.
Brendon.
"Brendon!"
He flipped around, only to see Ryan standing there with a pained look on his face.
"Brendon, I want you to come over here. Now."
He emphasized each word, slowly.
Brendon smiled, stuck the picture back in his pocket, and shook his head.
"Brendon, I mean it. Come here."
"Now, why would I do that, Ryan?"
"Because, you could get hurt on that ledge."
Brendon rolled his eyes. "That's kindof the point."
"Brendon, don't do this."
He looked Ryan in the eyes. "Give me one reason. One reason why I shouldn't."
Ryan's face paled as he realized he couldn't come up with one.
Brendon smirked. "That's what I thought."
He turned back to the ledge, and started moving forward.
"Brendon! Stop!"
There was an edge of panic in Ryan's voice now.
"No."
On the final step that would send Brendon to his death, he felt a strong hand on his hoodie.
"I said, STOP."
At that moment, Brendon did the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.
He twisted around in Ryan's grip, and slapped him across the face.
Momentarily dazed, his grip slackened.
Brendon took the oppurtunity to pry Ryan's long fingers off the jacket.
"See you later Ryan. Love you."
He heard a frenzied screams, and he flung himself off the precipice.