Sincerely, Tyler ▸ (Sequel to Dear, Rosemary)

25

"Former Twenty One Pilots singer, Tyler Joseph has been arrested for suspicion of the murder of his late girlfriend, Rosemary-Lynn LaCoure. The trial is awaiting and further investigation is currently being done to address the situation. We have yet to hear a word from Joseph, or his band mate Joshua Dun. The case is still open."

The metallic taste of blood in my mouth kept me from paying attention to a single word my lawyer pushed into me. Continuously I bit on the sides of my cheeks until I'd feel the rush of the circulation draw in and out. A habit of nervousness.

I'd yet to finish grieving, and after being told I would not be able to even think about attending Rose's funeral, I remained with awful thoughts and my bad habits to comfort me.

"Could I at least go and see her at her grave?" I interrupted Martin, his platinum bracelet clinking to the table as his arms outstretched in shock.

"Have you not been listening to a single word I've said?" His voice raised in annoyance, the creases on his forehead visible as he sighed in frustration.

"Tyler, you need to take this seriously or you can kiss your career goodbye," Martin warned, a finger pointing at me in seriousness.

I shrugged carelessly, "It's already gone. My best friend is gone, the love of my life is gone...everything and everyone is missing from me now. Why should I take this seriously if I'm probably just going to hang myself tomorrow."

He seemed taken aback by the vulgarity of my words, the expensive office chair squeaking underneath of him as he pushed out of the table, standing himself up. My eyes darted to my fingers as they looped around the other in anxiousness, Martin pacing around the fancy room in search of a solution.

"I'm not sure you're going to be able to prove me innocent if I actually committed the crime. I don't want to be considered innocent at all, how can Rose's death go without an answer to the world? Her family deserves to know, Martin. If it means I'll be in jail my whole life then so be it, I don't give a shit. I'd love a death sentence at this point anyway," I explained nonchalantly.

He cut in sharply, his tone rude and aggravated, "Shut up, Tyler, please. I'll figure out what to do."

***

"Mr. Joseph, after seeing the evidence proven correctly in your psychiatric report presented by Martin Flores, you will not be given jail time for your criminal offence as section two of the Homicide Act states otherwise. However, because you were determined to be legally insane during the time of the offence, you will be subjected to mental health treatment at the facility of Indiana for a consistent eight months. Case closed," Judge Lawrence raised his gavel, hitting it roughly onto its wooden block and dismissing the courtroom.

Martin placed a hand on my shoulder comfortingly as I began to well up with tears once more, "I can't believe I'm standing here doing this right now," I sobbed, desperately trying to hold myself together as the sound of people rising from their seats filled the room, "I'd never wish this situation upon anyone. Rose didn't deserve what happened to her. No, she didn't deserve it at all, Martin."

"I know, Tyler, I know. I'll begin to explain everything you need to understand for the next month, okay? First, let's grab your belongings and get out of here, I'll do the paperwork afterwards," Martin ushered me to collect what I owned, before leading me outside to the parking lot. I obliged with everything he would tell me to do as "Martin always knows best." At least that's what Martin believed.