Purple Guy X Phone Guy (PurplePhone)

"My head hurts..."

   It was about around two weeks since Scott broke the news to Vincent. Ugh, that name made him sick to even say. An awfully sweet and syrup-ish taste was slightly recognized whenever the name rolled off of Scott's tongue. Just... Sickening. It filled the male with dread and sorrow. Vincent wasn't the one. I can't believe it. 

Though Scott will admit that Vincent affected his personality in numerous ways, the phone headed male not being sure whether the ways being good or bad. The smell of decay always seemed to linger, although most times it was masked by a smell of cologne and lavender with a hint of fresh linen. Was Scott making a mistake? Maybe. But that conclusion was a bit to far off to just jump to. Vincent was suffocating, anyways. Everyone needs a little bit of space... Right? Wrong. 

Vincent needed all of Scott. He wouldn't settle for anything less. It was all or none, and this certain psychotic killer was planning on having it all. He ate, breathed and drank his ex-lover. An obsession grew, pictures around the grape males room smeared with the blood. The blood of a murderer. Vincent was feeling suicidal, resorting to cutting and burning cigarettes on his arms. There wasn't much more blood to give to the dead mercy of depression, but the swallowing sadness demanded more. More. All of it, until his mortal body was drained of every single drop.

   But the knife in the last chapter (Sorry for un-needed shattering of the fourth wall) wasn't to sink into Scott, but into himself. As if Vincent had a true reason to go on. But your family will miss you! I don't have a family. People love you! Like who? My knife? You have someone to live for! I used to...

  This was certainly the end of it all. End of life, end of sanity, end of will to live on in this cruel world. Vincent sunk the cold blade into his grape-hued skin, a dark red seeping out. The red... The color of his beloved Phone, it was as if the world hated the killer. Even his own body had a trace of his ex. Another slit was made, dripping even more than what his body could handle. After a while, his arms and wrists looked like lined paper. It hurt, like love. 

  Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Scott was thinking hard. Maybe Vincent wasn't so bad... Wait, no. NO. He couldn't bring himself to it. Grape was a bad man, a clingy man, and CLEARLY not a nice man. The more Scott thought about it, the more he realized flaws of his ex. And some flaws could be brushed off, like a little bit of lint on your shirt, but these flaws were more like bees, which probably aren't the best things to swipe your hand at. Just saying. Especially if you have bee allergies. ...Moving on.

  Scott's head was thumping with an obnoxious pain, almost like a reminder of the sorrow he was causing Vincent. Feeling suddenly hit him, and tears sprang to his eyes. "Oh fuck," the phone male yelled out with a pang of fresh realization, "I broke up with Vincent!" It was close to unbelievable. He picked up his cell-phone and started to call the grape.

  "What the fuck do you want? To make my life worse?" Vincent sounded rather intoxicated, with a hint of hatred and sadness on the edge of his voice, sharper than a needle, darker than shadows and colder than stone. "Goodbye, I don't want to talk to you." 

  "No, please don't hang up! Please, I love you! I'v realized what pain I've caused you, and I want to fix it." Scott was about to burst into tears. He bit his soft bottom lip with anticipation, trying to keep the tears from spilling out. 

"Why the fuck should I trust you?! Thanks to you, I haven't eaten in days! My heart is broken. It's too late to apologize. Too fucking late! If you're really that shallow, then you can go stick a hot metal pole up your buttock to teach you a lesson! I hate you! I hate the way you act, I hate the way you look, the way you sound, I just hate YOU! I never loved you, never felt anything for you, NOTHING!" With slurred words fueled by anger, Vincent let everything spill out, most of everything not being true and was caused from the heat of the moment.

Scott was split in two from everything Vincent said. None of it was real? Were the other males affections just drunk from lust and never true? Was their once whole love all a lie, only kept together by stitching of being desprate? Scott felt like it, now the most self consious thing on the face of the earth. "Goodbye, Vincent. Be safe and keep yourself out of trouble... I love you."

  "I don't wanna fucking hear i-" Vincent was cut off by Scott hanging up the phone, quickly bringing silence to the Cawthon's home. He stood up with pain filled eyes and walked to the bathroom. It was time to end it, for pain can be cured with a temporary solution of death. 

  "It's almost over, buddy. Not causing anyone any pain, not messing up or making stupid blunders to mess up everything. You're just a burden. You'll be doing the world a favor by doing this if you carry on. Go ahead, take your time. No one's going to come check to see if you're alright." Scott was being driven close to insane from the voices in his head nagging him to kill himself, when finally, he gave in. Tugging the bucket of bleach out from below the sink, he popped the lid off and began to drink.

 The world around Scott began to blur out. Coldness rushed through his body, dull pain taking over. He swore his ears picked up the sound of a door slamming open. The last thing he heard was something that made him regret his choices. The bathroom was busted through, dry wall dust spewing everywhere. A flash of purple was the focus of blurry vision before the male passed out, dying inside.

  "SCOTT! NO!"