Chapter Three

- 11:34 PM -

A blank expression was on Bryce's face. His earbuds were plugged into an old MP3 player he had when he was younger. He wasn't trying to be dramatic and play stupid sad songs or anything, he just needed something to wash out whatever was going on.

"...please forgive me, won't you, dear?

Please forgive me and let me share with you around the bend,

you're an angel when you sleep,

how I want your soul to keep,

on and on around the bend..."

Bryce stared blankly outside the window before blinking and looking back down at the MP3 player, then to Liam. He stared back out the window and reminisced on when he would listen to this song with Stella. His eyes trailed back to Liam, and he noticed the light breathing of the green backpack. God, he was so fucking happy Liam was alive. At this point he was crying and smiling. He was happy but sad. Calm but mad. He didn't know what to feel anymore.

He looked over at the clock.

11:40.

He knew he should've been asleep, but he just couldn't. It wasn't good for him, but nothing he really did was good for him.

He popped open the window and leaned on the windowsill, staring up at the moon. He let his tears run down his face and down to the ground below. It was absolutely a miracle that Liam was still alive. He didn't really want to think selfishly, but he was so glad that he wasn't holding the keys at the time.

Bryce turned back to his apartment, and opened up the mini-fridge. He stared inside and pulled out a beer. Sure as hell didn't taste good, Bryce wasn't one for yeast juice, but it numbed out  pain better than songs.

He stared back out the window. If Liam was awake, he'd probably give him a worried look and a little comment about his drinking habits. Jesus fucking christ, he needed to stop thinking about Liam! He rubbed his eyes to stop the pouring tears running down his face. He chugged down his can of beer while letting the tears pour down his face.

This isn't working, he thought. He went back to grab another beer. He chugged that down, nothing. Grabbed another, nothing. Grabbed another, nothing. By now, Bryce was crying a fucking river.

12:04.

Bryce wasn't even tired. He just kept drinking away.

12:32.

Bryce was right at the table, blacked out in his chair, slouching.

Texty turned herself on.

"bryce?"