Musical X Readers

Connor M. X Reader, W/ eventual Evan H. X Reader

TW: Suicide, mention of self harm, mild manipulation, unhealthy coping

Summary: [reader] deals with Connor's death.

Funerals were not nearly as extravagant as you thought.  The room was empty aside from the chairs and coffin, yet it still managed to feel...what's the word?  Hollow.  Yes, that's it.  It felt hollow.  Not just the physical room, the people inside it felt hollow as well.  At least that's all you could think when you look at them.  Dozens of people were crowded inside the somehow still empty feeling room, all of their eyes wet from tears.  But their trembling lips only enraged you.  Where were they a month ago?  Where were they when you had to talk Connor through his particularly bad depressive episodes?  Where were they when you helped clean Connor's bleeding wrists?  Where were they when he needed them?

    Standing around here sobbing wasn't doing him any good.

    They were all fake.  All of them.  Even the Murphy family.  Looking at them caused your insides to twist together and bile to rise in your throat.  If anyone could have helped, it was them. And therefore, if anyone was to blame, it was them. If they had just payed attention to what was happening.  If they had just listened when Connor had cried out.  If they had just /cared/.

    But they didn't care, not as far as you could see.  The only one who looked genuinely upset was Cynthia, who was silently sobbing into a handkerchief.  Zoe was crying, though there was some form of anger in her eyes that made your stomach squirm.  Larry didn't even give the curtesy of crying, choosing instead to stare stoically into the distance.

    Granted, you yourself weren't crying either.  But honestly you had cried so often these past few weeks, you would be surprised if you could ever cry again.

    The funeral was open casket.  You had to say you were shocked by how many people stared into the casket, their wet eyes seemingly trying to memorize every piece of Connor's pale face.  It made you sick.  Why would they want to see him like that?  There was a picture of him alive right next to the coffin.  Why didn't they look at that?

    Although, to be fair, you didn't want to look at that either.  The photo was from a few years ago (no one could find a recent photo that was any good), and looking at the enormous grin on his face made your heart ache.  You had only seen that smile twice.  Once when you first said you loved him, and twice when you had admitted you wanted to marry him someday.  Now that would never happen.

    But as hard as it was to look at that photo, it was still better than looking in the casket.  You had considered it, but were quick to decide against it.  You didn't want that image burned into your head.  You wanted your last memories of him to be of him alive, not of him lying dead in some casket they were about to put six feet under.

    Zoe didn't look in the casket either.  But you had once caught her staring at one of the people looking in the coffin.  She looked nearly as disgusted as you.

    At least that was one thing you could agree on.

    But that anger in her eyes was still making you uneasy.  You knew as a fact from all those times that Connor had ranted about her, that her and Connor hadn't had the best relationship.  But surely that didn't mean she was glad he was gone?  She didn't look happy.  She just looked angry.  Absolutely furious, actually.  The longer you looked at her, the angrier she looked.  And maybe you would never know for sure why she was so angry, but one thing you did know was that look made you angry.

    What right did she have to be angry?  You could be angry.  You could be sad.  You had tried to help Connor.  You had cared about him.  No one else here had done anything.