Prompt: Tired; Claim: Chester Bennington
‘I’m tired of the pain, ‘the letter starts. You scan over the next three paragraphs quickly and read the very last sentences, scribbled at the bottom. ‘I’m so sorry, Joe. Love you.’
Disgusted, you tear the piece of scented paper into two halves and crumple it up in your hand. The bastard doesn’t deserve this, you think angrily. After everything he’d done to your best friend, he gets a letter and a ‘love you’, which you know is genuine, while you, the one who has been with Mike to the very last day is left with nothing but pain and a gaping hole in your heart. If universe doesn’t equal the score, you think, somebody must do that.
The funeral is small, just family and closest friends, exactly what Mike asked for in his last will. For the most of the official ceremony you managed to somehow avoid Joe but now, when the ‘after party’, because that’s what it really is, is in a full swing, you’re afraid you’ll be sought out and confronted by the one man you want to see the least of all.
And as always, you’re right.
“Chester,” he gasps out, face ashen and tired. There are even slowly disappearing trails of tears on Joe’s face, as you notice with revulsion. You wonder how much time he spent in the bathroom to make himself look like the devastated boyfriend that he was not.
‘What do you want?’ sits on your tongue, ready to be spit out into Joe’s face, but you manage to stop yourself just before the damage could be done and wait for him to continue.
“How could he…?” The man before you trails off, focusing on some spot just above your shoulder. “Just like this, without even saying good-bye.”
If you didn’t know better, you might have thought that Joe was genuinely miserable. You might have even spared him the never ending questions that are surely spinning around in his head right now. But you know his brilliant acting skills.
Mustering the best non-pulsed expression that you have, you look Joe in the eye and say, “Tragic, isn’t it?”
The look on his face directly results in a small smile forming on your lips. The first one since Mike’s death. Even small vengeance can be satisfying.
.
Disgusted, you tear the piece of scented paper into two halves and crumple it up in your hand. The bastard doesn’t deserve this, you think angrily. After everything he’d done to your best friend, he gets a letter and a ‘love you’, which you know is genuine, while you, the one who has been with Mike to the very last day is left with nothing but pain and a gaping hole in your heart. If universe doesn’t equal the score, you think, somebody must do that.
The funeral is small, just family and closest friends, exactly what Mike asked for in his last will. For the most of the official ceremony you managed to somehow avoid Joe but now, when the ‘after party’, because that’s what it really is, is in a full swing, you’re afraid you’ll be sought out and confronted by the one man you want to see the least of all.
And as always, you’re right.
“Chester,” he gasps out, face ashen and tired. There are even slowly disappearing trails of tears on Joe’s face, as you notice with revulsion. You wonder how much time he spent in the bathroom to make himself look like the devastated boyfriend that he was not.
‘What do you want?’ sits on your tongue, ready to be spit out into Joe’s face, but you manage to stop yourself just before the damage could be done and wait for him to continue.
“How could he…?” The man before you trails off, focusing on some spot just above your shoulder. “Just like this, without even saying good-bye.”
If you didn’t know better, you might have thought that Joe was genuinely miserable. You might have even spared him the never ending questions that are surely spinning around in his head right now. But you know his brilliant acting skills.
Mustering the best non-pulsed expression that you have, you look Joe in the eye and say, “Tragic, isn’t it?”
The look on his face directly results in a small smile forming on your lips. The first one since Mike’s death. Even small vengeance can be satisfying.
.