Tragedy On The Roof

6: Spring Quarter

The stands roared as the crowd cheered on their beloved college football team, "That's how you get the spring season started!"

 Spring quarter had just started, and there was a certain level of intensity infused in the air as the team geared up to make it to the playoffs. Bret chased his dreams in the stadium, and nothing could take away the joy on his face, "Pancake counter hit eight today! A new record!"

He was a talented lineman in the hearts and minds of the crowd, except for his unassuming demeanor, "Bret, you did unbelievable out there!"

As he ran onto the field, he often wore a melancholic expression, his hazel eyes full of worry, and his lips pulled into a tight line, "Am I too serious on the field?"

Frank took his pads off, "There is no such thing as TOO SERIOUS on a football field!"

Bret laughed, "Yeah, Frank! There is no such thing!"

Bret made a name for himself on the team and developed respect among his fellow players. He was always the first to volunteer and step in when his teammates needed help. He was a leader, so it was no surprise that everyone looked up to him, and his coach tapped him as the captain, "Captain Soby! The man of the hour!"

Bret smirked, "Does the media want to interview me? Tell them I'll be out in fifteen minutes."

Coach smirked, "Remember, this is a post-game report. Keep calm. Steven, the media wants you too."

Steven nodded, "Got it, Coach. I'll try my best."

As they walked towards the press conference room, Bret couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. He had just led his team to a crucial victory, and now the media wanted to hear from him.

As they entered the room, the bright lights and cameras blinded Bret momentarily. But he quickly composed himself and sat down with Coach and Steven.

The reporters fired away with their questions. Most were directed toward Bret. He answered them without a problem. He showcased his confidence and knowledge of the game.

After a few minutes, the reporters shifted their attention toward Steven. He stumbled a little at first but soon found his rhythm and began answering the questions with clarity and thoughtfulness.

As the press conference came to an end. Bret and Steven were both congratulated by the media for their performances. They walked out of the room feeling proud and accomplished.

Coach patted them both on their backs as they walked towards the locker room. "Well done, boys. We've got tons more games to go, so let's keep up the good work."

Bret and Steven shared a smile, knowing that they had just taken a big step towards their ultimate goal - winning the college football regular season.

"We have too many games to win. But so little time." Steven frowned, "What could we do?"

Despite his busy schedule, Bret found the time to devote himself to academics and maintained a high enough GPA that any graduate school would be lucky to have him. He dreamt of one day becoming a lawyer, a goal he'd practically been born to achieve.

But behind all of Bret's success: there was a hidden truth; concealed by his carefully constructed masks, "Nothing can hold back my emotions."

He struggled with severe depression, a disorder that had been present for as long as he could remember. The worst part? It was aggravated over the years by the frequent hits to his head on the football field, resulting in visible cognitive impairment, "I should've listened to the doctor. Fuck me running."

On some days, Bret was entirely convinced he was better off dead, "Does my blade want to say hello?"

 He told no one of his darkest thoughts, though, and instead masked his inner suffering with a constant smile, hoping it would be enough to mask the pain behind it, "Fake smiles hold me together. For worse or for better."

It was one of those days Loona, the narcissistic cheerleader, and his girlfriend crossed paths with Bret, "Hey, Loona."

Loona, who liked to believe she was the center of attention wherever she went, noticed Bret immediately. She knew about the lineman's story and was intrigued by the idea of rescuing the barely distinguishable soul that lurked beneath the merriment and bravado.

It was when the two of them were alone that the plan hatched. Loona called out to Bret in a way he found hard to resist. She had a way of darting her eyes and weaving words into an aura of charm, propelling her prey further into her snare, "I think it's time."

"Time for what?" Bret asked.

Before Bret knew it, their conversation had drifted to a more serious topic—culture and suicide, "Why are we talking about this?"

"Sometimes it's better to open up," Loona cried. 

"What? I don't get what you mean?" Bret's breathing grew rapid.

"I'm sorry for doing this." Loona looked at Bret. Loona pushed Bret until he was nearly at his breaking point, and without warning.

"What are you—" Bret had said his final words. She shoved him off the edge, straight into the abyss where death awaited Bret. 

The air was filled with grief as Bret's body was carried away in the back of a truck. The school fell into shock, and the news of his death ricocheted across the media. Soon, the world would know that Bret Sobehrad, the talented college football player, had committed suicide.

Amidst the sadness, the only thing that lingered? The fact Bret's death was a tragic end still left many unanswered questions. Had Bret's depression been strong enough to overcome an otherwise admirable outlook on life, or had his death been caused by the influence of an alluring, yet ultimately hazardous, cheerleader?