It was all too much for Brian; Roger wasn't talking to him and Freddie and John kept throwing dirty looks at him whenever he walked past them. Roger had obviously told them about what had happened between him and Brian. He was sure there was a better solution than locking himself up in his room and trying to sleep his problems away, but he couldn't think of one.
Brian had stopped crying hours ago; it was as if he had run out of tears. However, that didn't save him from the horrendous headache he was going through. His head felt like it was about to explode. He shuddered as a wave of nausea swept over him. Perhaps he was getting sick. Or maybe his anxieties were causing him physical symptoms.
Brian was tempted to guzzle the contents of their liquor cabinet, but the trip to the kitchen seemed unbearably long, not to mention that the chances of him running into one of his flatmates were high. He didn't feel like facing people who most likely wanted to behead him. Which they had a good reason for.
As much as Brian hated his situation, he couldn't help but think that he had deserved it. He had hurt Roger and now he was the one who was hurt. It was only fair.
He'd been stupid enough to kiss Roger. It was only logical for him to think he had done it out of pity, as he had rejected him first. And Brian had just stood there, not even trying to explain himself. But it didn't matter, anyway. Roger was already over him. Brian might have realised his feelings for him, but it was already too late.
Brian buried his face in his hands. It turned out he hadn't run out of tears, after all. He hated himself. Even more than before, that is.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Roger. He had done it all the same. He had lost him. And he had broken himself in the process.
