Who are you?
Brett heaved as his bare feet sliced against the concrete. He was a musician - was being the keyword here, as he had now been reduced to something that was reminiscent of a prisoner, trapped in the confines of his own condition. Wind fluttered past his hair while he struggled to catch his breath, his legs trembling under the crushing weight of his own body.
His name was Brett Yang. He had a brother. Both of his parents were still alive and well. He was 28 as of now, diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's too soon, and he knew for a fact that he would eventually lose everything someday. He was born in Taiwan, grew up in Brisbane, and met Eddy (the name was bittersweet in his mouth) in math tutoring too long ago - when they were nearing the teenage era and thought themselves to be ready to take on the world.
A cough was expelled from his lungs as he glanced back. Oh, how wrong they were.
Where are you going?
To the police station. It was the best thing for both him and Eddy - Eddy needed to get help for his stress, to find better ways to manage it instead of resorting to murder. Brett wasn't going to facilitate this behavior; in fact, it made his head spin and his hands quiver at the reminder that Eddy was doing this for him. The red, the blood, the roses that lurked in his dreams... they were all for him, and perhaps that was what made Brett's face go white as the clock struck midnight and as the skies only grew darker.
Where is that?
No, not now, not now, he had to stay aware right now - the police station was right ahead, and with a single left, Brett would be there in no time. He paused, falling to the ground with a huff. It had been too long since he had done anything active, much less sprint miles. His legs burned with acid, his fists grinding against the ground, as he struggled back to his feet and continued to run.
Air swept past his baggy pajamas and hair; his glasses were fogged up from sweat and tears, tears that Brett didn't even realize were falling. He felt wind sweeping under his shirt and slamming into his drenched back, sending shivers throughout his body even in the warm summers. The world around him continued to spin, from a mixture of overexertion and an overwhelming wave of emotions that threatened to shove him over the edge of snapping.
But god, this was preferred. He'd rather live a life of constant panic and regret instead of the one that he was stuck in now - his mind, everywhere at the end of time, memories fluid and slipping through his fingers, dissolving camaraderies with his own sense of self and stability. Fleeting moments of familiarity, swaddled around Brett's weightless body, before sending him back into his own despaired oblivion; past dreams of success and normalcy, reduced to instruments shoved in closets and scribbled crayons over old music.
He would have sobbed right then and there, was he not close to the station. How long did he have before everything slipped out of his grasp? Before he returned to dreaming about roses blooming on Eddy's skin in bloodied nights?
What are you going to say?
The truth. Brett was going to run in and say the truth, his truth, and recount the entire story. He was going to risk everything - yes, maybe he would have to be sent somewhere else, maybe he would be stuck miles away from Eddy for the rest of his short life, maybe he would never see Eddy again once he was arrested - but he was going to say it for Eddy's sake, even if it sent the ring burning on his finger at the mere thought of distance.
He stood outside the door, taking one last breath of the summer breeze before heading in.
***
Forget cleaning up Brandon's body, Eddy had to run.
The moment he managed to kick through the lock of the bathroom door and realized that Brett had escaped through the window, he sprinted out the door and restarted his search - familiar, but this time with a different sense of foreboding dread. Where did Brett go? The panic in his eyes, the wild footsteps pounding through their house, the sound of rushed breathing: was he going to be okay? What was he running from, what just happened, how did things take a complete 180 in the last few minutes?
Pulling his jacket over his shoulder, he ran down the street and began to call for Brett.
***************
-vilopan_
YOU ARE READING
Remember Me
Fanfiction"Even if you start to forget everything about you, I promise I will still remember you." When Brett is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease, Eddy is the only one who can help Brett stay as Brett. Mystery, romance, and lots of sadness. Col...
