Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be a great day. The day they’d play in front of a huge audience that wasn’t some book club, retirement home or pier. The Orpheum. The place to get a gig at to score something big in the future. The night they were supposed to wow a bunch of a-list managers and big shots and get huge - huge enough to never worry about bills or living situations. That was how it was supposed to go. The night was supposed to end with all four of them tightly hugging, maybe crying a little and going to bed in their studio, too hyped still to fall asleep.

But that wasn’t how it ended.

It ended with only one crying in the arms of a beautiful bartender and the rest of them in an ambulance being declared dead. “No” being the only thing the boy crying could get out while the curly-haired girl stroked his back, trying her best to comfort a guy she’d met an hour ago. But he didn’t have anyone else’s arms to cry in - the three guys whose souls were leaving their bodies had been the only real family he’d had.

“No.” he murmured, barely audible and comprehensible under all the weeping. And she stayed quiet because what did you say when a guy lost his three best friends? She had a lot of thoughts in her head but none of them assuring or helpful.

‘It’s okay’, it really wasn’t. ‘It’s going to be okay’, how would she know? ‘I’m sorry they’re gone’, what was this going to fix? A bunch of meaningless words weren’t going to make this better for him.

“Bobby!” The girl looked up upon hearing the boy’s name being frantically called while he stayed still, like a lifeless corpse being held up merely by the stranger’s arms. They weren’t the voices that were supposed to call his name, it wasn’t the tone his name should have been called in. It was like he was dead along with his friends.

“Oh, Bobby.” More crying and more arms around him, trying desperately to comfort him. But not even his mother’s love which he hadn’t experienced in a long while could distract him from the crippling reality, not even for a second. To him, she was just another person hugging and speaking positive words to him.

He was pulled from the girl’s arms and for the first time since the news had been broken to him, his thoughts shifted. He wished he could stay in the girl’s arms just for a second longer. Her quiet demeanor had been not depressing. Her lack of speaking had been not devastating and overwhelming. But soon he was surrounded and consumed by words and sobbing and weeping that wasn’t his own.

The atmosphere weighing down on him, the world spun again and he hated it. He heard the busy L.A.-traffic behind him and the siren of the ambulance slowly receding. Everything felt real again and he knew his friends were really gone. His friends weren’t coming back. With the leaving hospital-wagon the only chance of his friends’ deaths being a mistake flew away. His breath hitched and he could feel his lungs tightening and his heart beating so fast that he felt like it was just one constant thump.

It was real.

His friends were dead.

Luke, Reggie and Alex were dead.

Bobby was the only one left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Text

Even two weeks later, he’d barely spoken a word to anyone. However, he had never had so many people speaking to him in such a short time span. Suddenly, everyone presumed to know him, and his friends even more. Everyone had something to say about how much they’d had to live for.

They hadn’t.

For them, the only thing worth living for had been their music and each other. For Bobby. And now that had been taken from him.

Suddenly, everyone liked these four boys as if they hadn’t just shouted homophobic slurs at their drummer, laughed at their bassist for occasionally being a bit slow, made fun of their lead singer for having unsupportive parents and mocked their rhythmic guitarist for the band being his only thing.

Everyone was being nice and even if it had been possible for Bobby to try and move on, every interaction he had would have reminded him of his friends’ deaths.

The problem was, the band had been Bobby’s only thing. He had nothing to do, nothing to distract him from this reality. Everything he liked to do had some sort of connection to Sunset Curve and the three faces he would never see in real life again.

And therefore, the only thing he could do, the only thing he’d done the past half month, was laying in his bed and staring up at his ceiling. He had never done that with Luke, Reggie and Alex around. He’d barely been at ‘home’.

Bobby’s head didn’t even move an inch when a knock came from his room’s door. He assumed it was just another of his mother’s friends telling him how ‘incredibly sorry they were for his loss’. They didn’t even know what exactly he’d lost - nor did they care. It was a formality, nothing more than something you said to remind yourself of what an amazing person you were.
“Bobby?” His eyes did shift when he heard that voice but it wasn’t enough to make him turn and face the owner. “Your mother said you’d be in here.” Bobby still didn’t move. He had no interest in getting any more condolences from people he had nothing to do with.

The silence in the room was awkward. Bobby had iced out the last five people who’d come into his rooms to ‘comfort’ him and it was an efficient method to make them leave. She stayed, however.

“It must hurt to go through this.” The boy hesitated but then turned to face the girl. It was the sentence more than anything that made him react. It was an opener he hadn’t heard ever since this whole thing had happened.

He didn’t say anything but he didn’t have to. The girl sat down next to him on his bed and stared at his ceiling lamp. There was silence again but this time it was not depressing and not devastating and not overwhelming. It just… was.

She wasn’t wearing black like the rest of them. The colors she wore weren’t bright or appealing to the eye - probably to be considerate of his feelings - but it was obvious she wasn’t here for the funeral or wake. She was here for him.

“Do you want to tell me about them?” she asked while looking into his eyes again. “I never really got to meet them.” Bobby considered it. It had been a while since he’d been asked or wanted to talk about his friends with topics that weren’t their deaths. But it would mean actually talking, using his vocal chords for speaking and he really didn’t feel like using the barely existing energy in his body for that.

He shook his head and after a few more seconds of her gaze lingering on his eyes, she looked at the ceiling again. “Don’t worry, there will be enough time for that.” Her tone was soft but even with the struggle to keep it steady, her voice slightly shook. “I’m here to stick around… for you.” Her eyes filled with tears and in a desperate attempt to keep them there, she fixated her eyes on a specific space on the lamp.

But maybe this was what he needed. Someone to show him their genuine pain, to not act like this was a regular thing that happened to many people everyday, to not act like everything was going to be fine. Because there was a big chance it was never going to be. To have someone other than himself fall apart.

And so she stopped holding her tears. “I am so sorry, Bobby.” Before he could object or affirm, she had leaned down and put her head on his shoulder. It was a hug - one of many he had gotten. But this one was different. It wasn’t fake or accompanied with meaningless apologies and reassurances. It was a genuine hug, filled not with pity but empathy.

Bobby didn’t hug her back. He couldn’t have. But it felt like it had the night it’d happened. Not depressing, not devastating, not overwhelming.

Comforting.

~~~~~~~~

Chapter Text

She had kept her promise. She had stuck around for him. The whole day she’d stayed with him. They hadn’t talked or interacted but she had stayed there. And the following day. And the day after.

And soon it was a month after his friends’ deaths and he was back in school. He had barely ever been with Luke, Reggie and Alex; they’d mostly skipped school to practice or bust their asses to get gigs. It wasn’t like they had been popular at school anyway.

But Bobby’s parents had pressured him into going. Saying ‘it would be good for him to get out of the house’. As if they had any idea what was good for him. They had never asked, never made any attempt whatsoever to see into their son’s head. But all it took was your friends dying and suddenly everyone knew you and what was best for you.

Everyone but Rose. She was the girl he could count on. She’d just sit next to him and breathe. But she wasn’t at school, at all anymore. Even if she’d still be enrolled, she was from a completely different neighborhood, but she was eighteen anyway and had already graduated.

Bobby walked towards the school gate. His parents had offered to accompany him that far but the only thing worse than going to school when your only friends were dead and everyone knew it, was being dropped off at the entrance by your parents everyone knew you didn’t get along with. Besides, he’d been driven to school anyway because his parents hadn’t trusted him to actually go without supervision.

When Bobby’s eyes drifted from the ground to not trip over the protruding paving stone, he saw some men removing posters from the wall.

‘Missing Person, Luke Patterson’

Bobby wasn’t even inside the building yet and he already felt like bailing. Everyone in the neighborhood had known Luke hadn’t been ‘missing’. He’d run away from his house after another fight with his mom regarding his life choices, specifically his choices about music. Those had happened more often than not.

His parents had filed a missing person’s report every time to make sure if something happened, the police would know where to take him but no one had ever been on the lookout for Luke.

Bobby stepped into the school and he could feel every pair of eyes shifting to him. If they hadn’t before, they definitely know who he was now. He was the guy with the dead friends. Even when no one directly called him that, it was obvious everyone perceived him as that.

He walked past a lot of his classmates and finally got to the lockers. Everyone avoided his eyes when he saw one specific locker. The word ‘faggot’ had been written on it with paint and was desperately attempted to be scrubbed off by a janitor.

The school had had four weeks to do so but they hadn’t until today. They weren’t even good at pretending to care about these boys who had died.

Another reason the bandmates had skipped school was to avoid hate, specifically directed at Alex. All of them had been bullied and all for stupid reasons but Alex had been hated simply for being gay.

It hadn’t even gotten out on his own terms. Some jerk had listened in on Reggie talking about it with Luke and had told the entire school. Reggie had felt incredibly bad and blamed himself but even with a black eye, Alex hadn’t been mad at him.

The boys really had only had each other.

Bobby eventually passed the lockers and got to the classroom. He and Alex had had their first ever interaction in that classroom when they’d been 14. They’d both gotten detention the very second week of their freshmen year of high school. Bobby for skipping school on five out of eight days and Alex for accidentally throwing a ball of paper at a teacher. They’d both been somewhat shy at first but after spending two blocks of four hours together, they’d found their first real friend in high school.

Alex had already played the drums and he’d actually been the one to get Bobby hooked on music and playing an instrument in the first place. At first he’d tried to teach the latter the drums but after meeting Luke, Bobby had quickly changed to guitar. The first ever guitar he had played on had been the one Luke had gotten from his parents. Not many people had been allowed to touch Luke’s precious stuff so that had been a big deal to both of them.

Reggie had joined the band a bit later because he’d rolled with the ‘cool guys’ at first. ‘Rolled with’ meaning he’d been their scapegoat and plaything, always paying for their meals and drinks and doing everything for them. They’d become friends because Alex had stood up for Reggie once and after this he’d become a target for the popular guys as well but the friendship had been worth it.

Reggie had been the one who’d come up with the name Sunset Curve and had written the band’s first song with Luke. Alex had created the logo and Bobby had booked their first gigs once they’d been known enough to play at bars and restaurants.

Bobby couldn’t go in there. That classroom was too much. Too many memories of them.

So he went past it, final destination: the bathroom. He couldn’t handle all- any of this. It was too soon. Too soon to be back, too soon to see these places, too soon to think about anything other than how to manage without them.

He closed the stall behind him and let out a shaky breath. He’d really much rather have had this moment at his house. The past four weeks, Bobby hadn’t been confronted with anything that reminded him of his friends except for at their funeral when he’d seen their families.

In an attempt to calm himself down, he made the mistake of looking up, facing the stall wall. “No.” he breathed and leaned against the wall opposite of the one he’d been looking at.

It was one of those stupid ways the bullies would try to get the whole school to hate on someone. They had these ‘votes’ on the bathroom stalls where they’d write down a superlative and had everyone vote for one person.

‘Who is the dumbest person at this school?’

And, of course, the answer scribbled right underneath it with an uncountable amount of unanimous votes was the name ‘Reginald Peters’.

Everything at this school had to remind Bobby of those three guys. Over 700 students at this school but the only people who’d left obvious traces had to be the ones who were now dead.

Bobby felt angry. The school had sat aside while everyone had been assholes to him and his friends and now, it was ‘we’re all here for you’.

Where the hell had they been when Alex was basically kicked out of his house for a month when he’d come out to his parents?

Where had they been when Luke had run away for the first time after a huge fight?

Where had they been when Reggie had experienced a mental breakdown because his parents had once again fought and shouted instead of divorcing?

Where had they been when Bobby had lived in their studio for almost half a year because his parents had forbidden him from playing music?

Nowhere to be found because all of those people weren’t and had never been their friends. They just felt bad about their behavior towards the dead when they’d still been alive that they felt like they owed Bobby.
But Bobby didn’t want their pity or empty words. He wanted to be left alone. Alone in his room to let the sadness and then numbness sink in without a single soul present.

So he left the premises. If everyone suddenly cared so much about him and his feelings, surely they’d understand why he’d skip school.

~~~~~~~~

Chapter Text

Bobby probably should have known going wouldn’t be a good idea. Rose’s parents weren’t fans of Bobby or people like him how they’d ever so gracefully phrased it. He was a ‘lost cause’ who was a ‘bad influence’ on Rose and even her sister Victoria, whom he had nothing to do with.

But he’d gone anyway because Rose was his only friend.

“Don’t you have a home?’ Misses Molina asked when she opened the door for the boy. Although they were sort of mean sometimes, it was refreshing for Bobby to encounter someone who didn’t make an exception because of his dead friends.

Of course, Bobby couldn’t tell the woman that her daughter’s presence was the only place he felt like home right now, also because that would be an overstatement. They’d known each other for a bit over a month and the only connection they had were Luke, Reggie and Alex.

But he did feel more at ease when she was around. His parents were obnoxious and kept pestering him about skipping school as if he hadn’t already long since considered just dropping out. Of course, when he’d genuinely thought about that, he’d had his safety net: Sunset Curve. That was gone now.

Except for his family, there was no else who he could have returned to.

“Good evening, Misses Molina. Is Rose home?” The woman looked the teenager up and down but with a sigh stepped aside. “Just like the last ten times you came here.” Bobby put on the best smile he could feign when he stepped over the doorstep.

Bobby had been here enough to know the fastest route to Rose’s room, specifically avoiding the living room in which Rose’s dad usually resided in at this time of the day. The only person who hated Bobby more than Rose’s mother was Rose’s father.

Unfortunately for him, Mister Molina wasn’t in the living room, he was in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, right on Bobby’s way to Rose’s room.

“Why is the Boyband here again?” That nickname was what caused him to avoid the man at any cost necessary. To him, Bobby was nothing more than a flirt Rose had brought home once, never-mind the cries and breakdowns he’d heard the boy have in that room.

Mister Molina got up from his chair and moved to the doorframe to properly look at the guitarist. “I thought I made it clear last time that you are not welcome here, boy.”

He had. Last time the man had shouted Bobby out of the house, not even letting the two friends say goodbye to each other. The reason had been Rose missing a shift from work for Bobby. “Good evening, Mister Mo-”

“Get out of my house.” While Misses Molina still had enough compassion left for Bobby to let him inside the house and talk to Rose, Mister Molina had none of that.

Bobby was angry once again. Since his friends’ deaths, anger was the emotion he realized to be most prominent in his life. He got angry at everything, things he’d usually get sad, excited or even feel completely neutral about only evoked anger and frustration inside him.

Everything angered him. The weather, the TV-shows, the school bell, his alarm clocks, his window jamming when he tried to close it, even the history teacher talking about JFK.

“Papi, stop.” Rose’s voice prevented Bobby’s anger level from rising any further. He knew he shouldn’t get angry but he couldn’t help it. “Come, Bobby, let’s talk outside.” Rose knew better than to go against her father. Not because she was scared of him but because he was in the right. It wasn’t his fault that Bobby was in the unfavorable situation he was in so he had no responsibility to help him.
The girl grabbed Bobby’s arm and pulled him outside the main door. “I’m sorry about my father.” Rose had made excuses for him the last few weeks. It wasn’t her fault but she still felt bad about it. She knew more about Bobby’s situation than anyone and she knew he had nowhere else to go.

“It’s whatever.” He didn’t feel like discussing the topic of the girl’s father any further than they already had. “So, look, there is something I have to talk to you about or more a- a favor I need to ask.”

Rose nodded and tilted her head, looking at the guy expectantly. “Tomorrow at school they’re doing this… assembly… in honor of Lu- the guys and I don’t wanna go alone.”

Even after a whole month, Bobby still couldn’t say their names. This was the closest he’d gotten but it was also the furthest he’d get. Saying their names would make them being gone even more real and he didn’t want that. Rose pressed her lips into a thin line in a pitying smile. Or well… not pitying per say.

“Of course I’ll go with you, Bobby.” For Rose, the aspect of going to a school when she wasn’t even enrolled in one didn’t pop into her head. The only thing on her mind was being there for Bobby.

“Cool. That’s all I wanted to tell you.” The void in Bobby was so strong. For four weeks, he hadn’t shown any emotion when speaking, not even anger. He was just monotone, nonchalant, the same.

“See you tomorrow then, I guess.” Rose tried her best to give Bobby an encouraging smile. Although she gave her best efforts, they were once again in vain. Bobby didn’t rely on her, she was nothing more than the illusion of safety to him. She was the only person or thing in existence that didn't make him feel worse than he already did but she didn’t make him feel better either. She was neutral and that was the best he could manage right now.

Everyone and everything else did the opposite. He’d even tried doing things that gave him joy but the only effect they’d had, had been making him think about his dead friends and widen the void inside him even further.

Bobby didn't like this. His life had been colorful - or at least colored before. He’d enjoyed living, even if not all the time but every time he was with the other three. He had strived to be a star, on magazine covers and on the radio as Sunset Curve and now the only thing he was aiming for was neutral.

His life wasn’t even black and white, it was just a constant shade of grey. But he couldn’t even bring himself to really care. His best friends were dead, everything that he had lived for - gone. His dreams - shattered. Everything that had made him excited for tomorrow - faded.

When Bobby got ready the next morning, the same feeling - or absence of feelings. He should have dreaded going to school, everyone was going to pretend to know and care about his former bandmates. There was also going to be a speech. And yet, not even that could evoke any kind of reaction on the emotional spectrum, not even anger.

It was just like any other day the last few weeks; wake up, get ready, walk past parents who desperately try to make him eat breakfast and go to school. The next step was just called ‘living through school’. Bobby had stopped making an effort and at this rate he’d be lucky to even graduate. He didn’t hand in papers, he didn’t participate in class and he certainly didn’t study for any pop-quizzes.

Teachers kept telling him that the best way to cope with his friends’ deaths was to ‘make them proud’. The only thing making them proud would be him succeeding in the music world - not getting semi-good grades in school - and that sure as hell wouldn’t happen with them gone. Not just because he couldn’t imagine ever making music again but also because Sunset Curve’s songwriters (Luke and Reggie) were dead.
Bobby couldn’t write songs, he’d never been good at it. The closest he’d ever gotten to writing a song was when Luke had made some words Bobby had said about his parents the day before into lyrics. It’d been changed up quite a bit because Bobby hadn’t been the most poetic and articulate person but Luke had still given him credit.

Bobby had liked watching Luke writing lyrics - had called it ‘Luke magic’ because the latter was disturbingly good at it. Reggie hadn’t been a lyricist but he’d been amazing at making melodies. Him and Luke had come up with the best stuff and most of the time Alex and Bobby had liked the songs instantly.

Alex hadn’t really written songs either, he’d participated in changing up melodies and adding drums to it (more so than Bobby) but he wasn’t much of a poet either. Alex had been more of a help, aiding when Luke couldn’t come up with a certain word (because Alex had had a killer vocabulary) or when something was missing in the instrumental. At the end of the day, the three of them could have made the band without Bobby, he didn’t really add anything to the group.

At least that was what he thought. Luke and the others knew Bobby contributed a great deal. Luke for one mostly felt motivated to write songs in Bobby’s presence and he was the first one who’d be showed a new song to get a second opinion when their frontman had finished the lyrics.

But most of all, Bobby had held them together. Alex and Reggie had often almost fought because sometimes Alex’ thin patience could collide with Reggie reaction and understanding time. Bobby was the one to calm them down, often functioning as an intermediary for the two of them.

Luke would often be too inconsiderate or apathetic and also fight with Alex because the only thing on his mind according to their drummer was the band and succeeding. It had been a large part of Luke’s life and thoughts but it hadn’t been all. Bobby had been the one to help them understand each other’s point of view better.

What Bobby didn’t know was that without him, there never would have been a band to begin with. He had been the one to bring them together in the first place but most of all, he had held them together, preventing them from disbanding.

But he didn’t see that. He himself thought of himself as a stepping stone, thinking the three of them would have succeeded sooner rather than later anyway, even if he had dropped out of the band. Which made their deaths even heavier. Bobby felt like he was no one without them. Wandering endlessly with no destination or purpose.

On the way to school, he got the usual stares and whispers from people around him. The feigned kindness had finally died down but now it was mostly glances and rumors. Just the day before, Bobby had found out people believed Bobby was a mastermind behind his friends’ deaths. Because the 17-year-old had nothing better to do than murder the only people putting up with him.

But it was obvious rumors like that would spread, they always did whenever everyone but one of a group of people died. Sometimes, that theory was correct but in Sunset Curve’s case, Bobby hadn’t even been investigated, considering they’d died from food poisoning, from street dogs they’d eaten at their own will. It had even been recorded by some surveillance cameras. But somehow people thought Bobby was a psychologically manipulative mastermind who’d planned it all.

Bobby was fairly sure most people didn’t believe the things they talked about but it was fun to participate in ruining somebody else’s life so everyone just went with it.

His eyes shifted up and he sped up his steps when he saw Rose standing by the gates. She looked quite uncomfortable and unsure but she was there, just like she’d said she would.

“Hey.” she greeted the boy upon seeing him. Bobby pressed his lips into a thin line in an attempt at a smile and came to a stop next to her. “Thanks for showing up.”
In full transparency, Rose had considered not going. High-school hadn’t been the peak of her life and high-schoolers were some of the worst people in existence. Bobby’s school experience proved that point. But she wasn’t here to revisit her ‘glory years’, she was here for Bobby. They weren’t entirely sure Rose was even allowed to be inside the school since she wasn’t a student (nor had ever been) but he had figured if he didn’t ask, he couldn’t be denied.

Rose smiled at Bobby and turned to the school to make her way inside with him. Somehow Rose managed to be happy through all this. Sure, she hadn’t known the three but she’d been with the fourth of them through all of it and she was still pretty chipper (as much as she’d always been at least) and positive.

“I hope the assembly is in the morning.” Rose had a slight Hispanic accent that mostly came out when she pronounced an ‘i’. “It is.” It made Bobby somewhat happy knowing Rose had shown up when she hadn’t even known when or how long the assembly would be taken place. He had completely forgotten to tell her.

“Then let us go there now.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Text

Turned out bringing a random girl to school didn’t make people stare at you any less. Bobby had hoped Rose wouldn’t notice but she did in the very first minute of being inside the school. She didn’t comment on it since it wouldn’t have changed anything anyway.

They sat down pretty far back. Bobby didn’t want to be referred to or looked at while the principal, who’d only ever met one of them personally prior to that night, talked about his friends as if they’d been saints and adored by all. No one here other than Bobby was qualified to speak about the three.

The room felt crowded although not many people were inside yet, every noise was audible to Bobby and he seemed to drown in it. This had become a regular occurrence since a month ago. Whenever he was in a space with other people, he felt heavy - stuck.

“Was there an assembly before?” Rose’s voice barely stood out from all the surrounding noise. That’s what Bobby perceived everything as - noise. Every voice, every chair-scooch, every cough. Rose was part of that noise.

He felt his breath get stuck in his throat and got jittery. He felt he needed to do something, anything, like he couldn’t just sit there. Talking however wasn’t part of the ‘anything’ so he merely shook his head as a response to the girl’s question. There might have been an assembly right after their deaths but he hadn’t been in school at that time so he had no idea.

Bobby felt like hitting something. Or yelling. But he didn’t feel angry. It was a strange feeling that made the boy incredibly frustrated every time he experienced it.

Just when he thought he had to get out of there, the principal stepped onto the stage and made everyone go quiet. The urge for doing something didn’t subside but the want for noise-cancelling headphones and therefore the feeling of being outside of his body did.

“Good morning, my dear students.” For an assembly about three dead students, she certainly seemed happy. When Bobby thought about how the principal could make it into a ‘hopeful’ and ‘optimistic’ speech, he regretted ever coming in the first place.

“Today’s topic is quite depressing. As you all know, a bit more than a month ago, three very eager souls left us. Today we want to honor them.” ‘Honor, my ass.’ Bobby felt sick to his stomach. ‘Eager souls’, eager about what? They couldn’t have cared less about school.

“For this, I have asked some people to talk about them.” Bobby raised his head to look at the stage. ‘Talk about them’? He hadn’t even been asked (not that he’d have agreed) and he was the only one at this school who had actually known them.

Even worse than that, the four people coming up onto the stage were Craig, Brian, Timothy and Shannon - the four biggest enemies of Alex. They’d been ever since Reggie had been with the first couple of weeks of high school.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking around anxiously and hiding his face in one of his hands. “Hi, I’m Craig.” The boy adjusted the microphone and stepped back slightly at the headmistress’ instructions. Clearing his throat, he continued.

“I didn’t know Luke or Alex very well…” Not to say, he’d been the biggest part of their school bullying. “…but I knew Reginald. And he was kind and enthusiastic and oh-so smart.” Bobby bit down hard on his lip and his right leg started to shake up and down. He knew what was going on. And judging by the quiet, suppressed and hushed giggles and smiles from his peers, so did everyone else. Everyone but the principal.

“Whenever I had a problem, I came to him and he helped me through everything.” Slightly louder chuckles. Even Misses Westward grimaced at the tasteless reaction to three teenagers’ deaths. But she stayed quiet and did nothing except stare admonishingly at a few individuals.

“And I think we all now how incredibly important he was to our school’s intellectual reputation. I mean — before he started to hang out with the oth-” Finally - graciously - the principal gently guided Craig away from the microphone. “Thank you, Mister Randall. I think it’s time for Timothy’s speech now.”

Timothy stepped forward and introduced himself like Craig had. Bobby could feel his chest getting so heavy and no matter how much air he breathed in, it didn't seem to actually fill his lungs. “Five weeks ago, Luke, Alex and Reggie left us. And it has left a hole in this school. Whether it’s the classrooms having less color, the breaks having less chatter or the cafeteria having less food, everything feels worse, pointless, depressing.”

Bobby swallowed hard. Timothy was lying. Their deaths didn't affect the school beyond them trying to cover up the bullying when their accident attracted media attention. Nothing seemed worse, pointless or depressing for anyone but Bobby.

“All three of them should have lived on, they should have become part of this school’s legacy. They should have lived on to inspire thousands of souls with their glorious music and they should have lived to die of old age.” Rose reached her hand over to gently caress Bobby’s wobbling knee. He couldn’t stop it from shaking but he appreciated the thought.

“They should have created their own legacy to pass through generation after generation.” Rose leaned over to Bobby and began stroking his arm slowly with her other arm. “Do you want to leave?” she whispered next to his ear.

Bobby didn't react. He couldn’t have. If he did anything other than breathe and let his body let his body break out of this trance he’d created, the entire world would crumble. If he talked, if he blinked, if he moved his head to look at Rose, the whole sky would fall down on him.

“But a part of their legacy is secured. Part of their legacy lives on. And it does so in the shape of Bobby Shaw.” No. Stop. Bobby could feel his staggered breathing on his own skin, he could feel his heartbeat in every part of his body, even in his toes.

Everyone was staring at him. Timothy signaled with his arm towards his direction and he knew everyone was staring at him. “Bobby, would you come up on stage?” The blood rushed into the boy’s ears. There was no air in his airways, like he was holding his breath.

He knew, if he didn’t do something, he’d pass out. He knew, if he did do something, he’d fall into a rage and destroy everything within a 20-yards-radius.

The world needed to stop but he needed it to spin faster.

The room needed to quiet down but he needed to noise to swallow him whole.

He needed-

Without thinking for a second, Bobby got up from his seat. As if on autopilot, he moved his limbs to carry him out of the room. The world was blurry, and grey and white, and moving so fast around him. Everything was so much and so loud and so bright.

His brain didn't snap back into active consciousness until he felt a hand on the back of his head bringing him down to floor. “Bobby, breathe. Listen to my voice, Bobby. Breathe.”

Bobby opened his mouth and took the first breath in what’d felt like minutes or hours. “There we go, Bobby, just breathe.” His lungs finally filled, the cold air of the outside finally settled inside his body and cooled down everything from within. The blood left his ears and returned to his slowly calming heart.

Only after everything had died down, Bobby noticed he’d walked outside, already by the school gate. He also only just then realized he’d begun to cry. Quickly, he wiped his eyes and started to pull away from Rose. They were sat on the ground with Bobby’s face buried in the shoulder of Rose’s sweater. “Hey there.” Rose whispered when their eyes met with a concerned look on her face. She switched between which eye to look into as if searching for a sign to pull Bobby’s back into her arms.

“Do you want to get up?” Bobby nodded hurriedly and got to his feet immediately. Rose kept her hands by his sides to catch him in case he fell back down. “Sorry, I just needed to get out-”

“You don’t need to explain.” For a while they just stared at each other. Bobby was thinking of what to do now because he knew if he didn’t go back in, Misses Westward would inform his parents but he was sure that if he did, he’d kill someone, preferably Timothy.

His speech might have seemed like a genuinely, good-hearted sentiment but it was just his version of tormenting Bobby and using his friends’ deaths to bully him a little bit more while gaining favor from everyone else. Timothy was smart, he’d known what that speech would do and he’d done it not despite but because.

“Mister Shaw!” Bobby bit the inside of his cheeks and lowered his head at the sound of Principal Westward’s admonishing tone and approaching footsteps. Rose protectively stepped in front of him but they both knew it was a futile attempt. “Your behavior is beyond disrespectful! We have concocted a beautiful memorial service to honor their lives and you walked out.”

Once again, Bobby could feel his heartbeat raising and hear his breathing picking up. God fucking dammit! “Your friends-”

“Yeah, my friends! Exactly — my fucking friends. What do they have to do with you, huh?” Rose turned her head to look at the fuming boy behind her. The principal closed her mouth and instead stared at him with wide, unbelieving eyes. “You never gave a shit about them so why do you now? I’ll tell you why; because you don’t. You just like standing on a stage with your pretty little green dress and talking about how great of a teacher you are that you care about a bunch of low-life kids that died from fucking food poisoning.”

Bobby stared at his teacher with bloodshot eyes full of tears waiting to be shed. He bit his lower lip to keep it from wobbling. Rose looked at him with something akin to pity in her eyes. Or perhaps sympathy. Or perhaps even pride.

“How dare you, Mister Shaw?” - “My fucking name is Bobby,” he yelled at her face. Once again, there was a short moment of silence between the three of them. “Alright then, Bobby. Here is what’s going to happen; I will contact your parents about our outburst just now and then tomorrow, during a parent-teacher meeting, we’re going to assess your ability to have a future at this school.”

“Oh, fuckass bummer not going to this wreck institution of a school.” With that, Bobby grabbed Rose’s wrist and pulled her away from the building behind himself.

‘’‘’‘’‘’‘’‘’

Chapter Text

Bobby was laying in the grass with his head on Rose’s lap as both stared into the sky. It had been two months since he’d gotten ‘taken out of school by his parents to get psychiatric help’ (a.k.a. expelled and then put into a psychiatric hospital).

“I’ve been thinking.” Rose lowered her head to look at her friend, waiting for him to continue. “I’m getting released on temporary trial basis next weak and…” Upon hesitation from uncertainty, he looked into her eyes. “I think I wanna go to their parents.”

The woman titled her head in surprise. In the months since his friends had passed away, he had not once mentioned an interest in interacting with their families. In fact, the one time Rose had brought it up, he had lashed out at her, telling her if she truly was his friend, she would never suggest that.

But now, after several weeks of professional help (although at first, reluctantly accepted by Bobby), he figured he’d give it a chance. The help he’d gotten had actually done the job and helped him. He was still mourning, still grieving, still angry but he was much better at letting those feelings out through other means than yelling and screaming.

His therapist had been trying to get him back to music again but so far, without success. However, he had shown progress in other ways of moving on. Being ready to talk to their families being part of the proof for that, his openness to talk about his feeling honestly being another.

His stay had been financed by Rose’s parents. They hadn’t exactly come around on him but under the premise of paying them back once he got his life back in order, they had agreed on getting him the help they all agreed he needed.

“I think that’s a good idea — if you’re ready.” Bobby smiled slightly looking into her eyes. “I just… I’ve not done it because I just felt like I didn’t owe them shit, you know? Like none of us got along with our parents so why should I go over there and look at them fake-grieving but now…”

Rose’s eyes turned sad. She had always had a good relationship with her parents and seeing and hearing about so many people not have the same hurt her. Family was everything. “They have lost someone the same way I have. And they must feel like shit for leaving things the way they did. And maybe, I can like - help them find peace. You know, as a friend of their sons.”

The boy got up from the ground and looked at her with a certainty in his eyes she hadn’t seen since before his friends had passed away. “I think that’s what the guys would want me to do. Maybe it will help me, too, i don't know.”

Rose took a second to fully take in everything her friend had told him and then nodded with an endearing smile. “I’m very proud of you, Bobby.” For a second they just stared at each other. No words spoken, no visual exchange happening between them.

They had spend the last months together, always close to each other. Rose was sure she knew Bobby better than she had ever known anyone and so did he her. They were something more than just friends. They were family now.

“But I want you to know that if we try to do this and you realize that you cannot do it after all, that you don’t have to. It is not your job to take the burden off of someone else’s shoulder.”

“We?”

“Yes, obviously, you’re not going to put yourself in a mentally challenging situation all by yourself right after being discharged from this place.”

From her tone he knew there was no room for argument, not that’d he want to get out of it anyway. Rose’s support had been the only thing to get him through this whole thing to begin with and he had learned to count on it, to be dependent on it. He didn’t know what he would do if she suddenly took it away. But he also knew he would never have to truly worry about that because Rose was adamant on not leaving Bobby alone to deal with this. And he was eternally grateful to her for that.

“Thank you.“ Bobby said with a sincerity he had never before felt. “Always, Bobby.”

‘’‘’‘’‘’‘’‘’

Chapter Text

So there he stood. In front of Luke’s front door, Rose at his back with a crumpled up paper of a written down opening-speech, the content of which he couldn’t remember anymore, the confidence of the week before nowhere to be seen.

Bobby was a lot of things, quitter among them, but he wasn’t a traitor. And while he did not owe his friends’ families anything he did owe those three something. Maybe this was all bullshit, maybe this was the last thing they would want but he couldn’t be sure this wasn’t. And he needed to do this. If not, he might regret it for the rest of his life.

So he rang the bell, holding his breath, and waited. Perhaps Emily and Mitch had seen Rose’s car pull up on the side-walk and had seen them walk up to the porch seventeen minutes ago. Maybe they were on the other side of this door, desperately waiting for him to ring the bell. Or maybe they were in the living room, hoping he wouldn’t.

His spiraling thoughts came to an abrupt halt when the door finally opened. Everything he had rehearsed, written down and crossed off and then written down again was gone from his mind the second his eyes met Mitch’s.

“Hi.” was the only thing he was able to say with a sound that barely resembled a voice.

Mitch stared at him, no expression clear in his face, no emotion clear in his eyes. Then, “Emily, we have a visitor”, and he stepped aside to let the two in. As Bobby stepped past the man he finally let the breath he’d been holding out. He was inside. He hadn’t been turned away right away. This was fine. He could work with this.

While Mitch’s face was an indecipherable wall of expression, Emily wore her feelings on her sleeve. “Bobby.” she breathed in a manner that symbolized what was going on inside Bobby. “Hello, Misses Patterson.” he replied hesitantly.

Mitch joined Emily on the opposite side of the coffee table. “We certainly were not expecting you.” he said, barely able to meet his eyes. “Yeah, I know I’m three months late.”

“No.” Emily said sternly. “No, Bobby. You’re just right. We just did not think you would ever come to see us.” Bobby gave her the best little smile he could find the strength to produce. This was not going like he had expected.

“What have you been up to, dear?” With the look in Emily’s eyes, one would have thought she had been like a mother to Bobby. Like he grew up under their roof, like he was their own flesh and blood. “Uhm.” he hesitated, not really sure what answer to give them without making things more depressing than they already were.

“I just got out of my psychiatric treatment.” Probably not the best way to go about making things less depressing but the woman started smiling as if Bobby was four years old and had just given her a drawing of the flowers on the patio. “That’s good to hear.” the father chimed into the conversation.

“It’s crazy, I had this whole lettered out speech I was gonna give you guys and it was three pages long but now I’m standing here and I have no idea what to say.” Bobby stared at the ground as he felt Rose’s hand gently caressing his back.

“It’s okay. I have no idea what to say either.”

“Yeah but like there were so many things I wanted to say. To help make it better for you guys with — Luke and everything and the truth is I have no idea how to make it better because it doesn’t get better, I mean you guys lost your son.”

The boy’s voice broke at the very end. Luke had often not felt like a son. At least not a lover and supported son but at the end of the day, those were his parents. And they were many things but never loveless people.

Mitch’s gaze fell to the ground in an attempt to hide the pain inside them. “You lost him, too.” Emily whispered with tears in her eyes. For a moment, Bobby just looked in to his best friend’s mother’s eyes. And for a second he felt like he was looking into his. They held the same compassion, the same strength. The same determination that always had the ability to shatter Bobby’s doubts.

But this time, they had sadness in them. And not sadness like the one he’d seen in his friend’s eyes before, no, this was so much worse. Because this was unfixable. The hurt those eyes carried wasn’t going to be rectified, least of all by the likes of him. And this hurt wasn’t his friend’s, it was a woman’s hurt, a woman who had lost everything, her felt entire purpose, her entire world. A woman whom he had come here to tell they were one and the same. A woman’s hurt he had no right to have ever questioned and a hurt he had no right to claim as his own. This was a mother’s hurt. And he couldn’t - he just couldn’t.

One second he was staring into those bottomless eyes, the next he was standing on the side of the road, breathing heavily and crying like he did that day. “Bobby, Bobby.” the same words being spoken over and over again just like then. And suddenly, he was in front of that venue again, ambulance siren behind him, chatter and yelling around him.

“Fuck.” he cried out but maybe it was merely a whisper. His voice was so loud in his head, his heartbeat surrounding his whole being. And with that, he fell forwards and threw up.