You Don't Exist (Maylor)

'R' Is For 'Regret'

"I don't... I don't understand. She was doing fine. What- how could this have happened, Nan?" The voice was so small, bottom lip trembling, and the lump in his throat set an uncomfortable feeling there. As if he may choke any second without so much of a warning. On the other end a broken voice was heard, fighting back their own set of tears.

"She was so lonely, John. After your father died... she- she became so sad." He knew he hadn't visited her like he should have, but he was trying to get over the loss of the man just as much as she was. Fingers tightened around the receiver, trying to breathe while tears fell no matter how hard he wiped at his eyes.

It was his finally year in school and everything had been going great. He had gotten the top marks of his entire year, a full ride to Uni for Electrical Engineering, something he knew his dad would be so proud of, and kept playing the bass even if it hurt every time he picked up the man's prized instrument. Something the two had spent hours going back and forth playing together. Writing songs just for fun while his dad taught how to switch cords easier or keep the strings from sticking. All of that for nothing because who would be there to watch him graduate. To send him off to college with an embarrassing kiss, making sure to remind him to call everyday to check in.

All of it was for not.

"Dear, I know this is hard for you but-"

"I don't wanna talk, Nan." It was a croaked whisper. The women on the either end of the phone nodded even though she knew John couldn't see it.

"Of course, of course I'm sorry Dear. So, so sorry. I'll... keep in touch about the- about the funeral plans." She took another shaky breath, "I love you, John. Call me if you need anything."

"Love you too," the line went dead after that.

John found later that his mother had died from a broken heart. The ties of his soul mark controlling her even in death. Their family had decided to leave her mark uncovered as the other side of the family had done for his dad, turning her head so they could see 'Arthur' tucked right where shoulder and neck met.

The letter 'F' scared him half to death. Memories of his parents plaguing his mind.

Brian dragged himself home, unshed tears making his eyes feel heavy and the lump in his throat made it hard to breathe. He ignored it. Moving to unlock the door to their flat and kicking off his shoes in the doorway, not caring much where they landed. Shuffling towards his bedroom, he put his guitar down and leaned it against the wall. Slowly removing the clothes he had thrown on and letting them scatter around the room.

His reflection caught in the corner of his eye.

He moved to stand in front of the reflective glass, hesitantly turning to face away. Shaky fingers came to move the thick curls from his nape. It couldn't have been a mistake. Roger's name was still inked contrasting against his paler skin.

How could he have been so wrong?

"Brian, I've never seen you so vain." John jokes standing in the doorway to their shared bedroom. Brian all but jumped out of his skin. Not expecting John to have been back from class so soon. Hand dropping to cover his soul mark once more in a curtain of thick curls. "I can't say I care for the mess you've made." The younger boy laid his bag down on his side of the room.

"I'm sorry..." was all that was muttered back the other boy moving to change into pajamas. Not even bothering to match them like he normally did.