You're a Mind Fuck, Babe

Chapter 63: Haven't We Suffered Enough?

((((In case you weren't aware, chapter 62 is on private. So... Here's 63))))

The day of Brendon's funeral seems to arrive way too quickly and as I'm tying my black tie around my neck, preparing for the sorrow, I'm suddenly reminded of how I got to this point in my life. My entire life has pretty much changed. I don't live with my mom anymore, I'm not a virgin anymore, I cheated on someone, I'm engaged to someone, I fucked my teacher, I've taken care of a fucking baby and so much other shit. I look into my eyes in the reflection of the mirror; the colour seems to have faded into a more placid sight. My eyes aren't as piercing as they once were, they seem dull and tired. My skin is pale and my hair is a mess. The ring on my finger feels heavy and it makes itself uncomfortably known.

A pair of arms wrap around my waist and I see Gerard's figure in the mirror. He kisses my cheek and rests his head on my shoulder.
"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" He asks, tightening his grip around my waist a little.
"Yeah," I reply simply, not wanting him to feel bad that Ryan didn't want him there. He had called me yesterday asking if I could leave my guard dog at home. He's thankful for Gerard pushing Brendon to the edge but he just doesn't want him at the funeral. He didn't really explain it to me very well but I didn't wanna fight with him and I just wanted that conversation over as quickly as possible.
I walk down to the flower shop and pick up a dozen white lilies, though I'm unsure of which ones are appropriate or not, the woman helped me pick them. I get a card expressing my condolences towards the Urie family and head towards the funeral home where the wake is being held. The sky is crying onto my skin, reminding me of everything I've been blocking out. The raindrops pool in my shoes and slide across every strand of my hair, letting it drip down my face. I could be crying right now and nobody would know the difference but I don't feel the need.  The sky is a lighter grey than the pavement and twice as depressing. The rain gets heavier now, soaking all of my clothes and the lilies I carry though I feel no need to hurry. I shouldn't even be here. I wasn't fond of Brendon. The only reason I showed up was for Ryan though I barely knew him, really. He was just some kid I fucked at a party then led on. 

I arrive at the funeral home and the driveway is flooded with rain covered cars. There are people outside, standing in silence as they try to light their cigarettes in the rain. I push open the stained glass door and take a look at the room. The floor is carpeted with a blood red shade and the windows covered in black. I head towards the room where the scent of vanilla and roses floods my nose. I see people dressed in black and veils mourning their poor Brendon.  There's a black casket at the front of the room surrounded by colourful flowers and pictures of Brendon. Ryan sees me and walks over to me, a ghost of a smile on his tender lips.
"You're soaked and shaking!" He remarks, taking the soggy flowers from my hands and offering a hand to take my jacket. I slip the dripping jacket off my arms and set it in his hands.
"I'm sorry," I apologize uselessly. He sets the lilies down near the other flowers before heading out of the room. I follow behind him, my shoes making a squishy squeaking sound as I walk across the carpeted ground, leaving footprints behind. I follow him down a staircase to a room full of children mesmerized by a television and a Wii system. He sets my jacket on the coat rack to dry. He offers me a pair of black suede shoes to change into and once I kick off my own pair and pull off my socks, there's a puddle beneath where I'm standing. I slip my feet into the dry pair though they're a size and a half too big for me and smile at Ryan. The kids in the room pay us no mind as I slip off my tie followed by my shirt and hang it on the coat rack with my jacket. I wish I had a change of pants right now. Ryan throws me a towel from the little linen closet in the room and I dry off my hair.
"This place is more like a hotel than a funeral home," I comment quietly. Ryan nods solemnly. He goes to the back of the room and brings out a white dress shirt and a dark grey jacket and dark grey pants.
"I brought extra in case I made a mess of myself after the funeral at the feast," he says with a thin smile. I turn around, looking for a place to change and spot a room with a bathroom sign on it. I head inside with the extra clothes and slip off my pants. Ryan's pants have no give to them whatsoever so I'm forced to just hope they don't burst at the seams. I'm not that much bigger than him but when the clothes are fitted to his size, it really seems to make a different. The shirt and jacket aren't as tight or uncomfortable which I am thankful for. I head back out afterwards and Ryan leads me back upstairs, leaving my clothes to dry while we're gone.