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Bryce sat on his bed, tears clouding his eyes and nose red and runny. He couldn't believe it, he literally couldn't fathom what had just happened. His mom had just called him, his dad had passed away. It was so unexpected which made it so much worse. He covered his face with his hands, letting out a shaky breath, feeling his chest heave up and down as he did so.
He got off the phone with his mom nearly an hour ago, he would fly down to Maryland, he wanted to be there for his mom, and of course, he needed to be there for the funeral. Bryce knew he wouldn't be able to handle this on his own, but he wasn't sure who he could tell. As far as his friends knew, he was some reckless party animal who never seemed to cry. He wasn't even sure how his friends would react when they saw him in the state he was in, messy hair, teary eyes, and his room absolutely trashed to shit. After he got off the phone, his first response was anger, so without thinking twice he began taking out his rage, ripping shit off of his wall, throwing things around, and knocking things off his desk. Then he sat down on his bed and just started crying, he could hardly breathe because of how hard he was sobbing.
"Why did he have to leave," he cried, placing a hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence himself. Bryce didn't want people to worry about him, to rush into his room and ask if he was alright. He didn't want them to feel forced to care, purely because they were worried about him. He didn't want them to feel obligated to check on him, he would probably be fine on his own.
That was a lie, Bryce knew if he stayed here in his room till the moment he had to leave for Maryland, he would probably do something he would regret. In all reality, he needed someone, anyone to just come and tell him that he would be ok, that he would get through this and that he didn't need to see his dad oh so soon. Bryce would meet him again in another life, but he knew if he was selfish and decided to leave and see him now, his mother would probably never heal. She would be left all alone, missing her husband and her son.
"I-I can't," Bryce was hyperventilating, he felt like such a pussy for crying. He was a guy, he was supposed to be this strong, stoic, and calm person who never shed a tear even if it was heavily warranted. He was shocked by the sound of a knock at his door, so he quickly wiped away his tears. He was afraid as he realized he wouldn't be able to hide the fact that he had been crying from whoever was on the other side of that doo. Bryce was biting his tongue because he knew the moment he opened his mouth he would let out a heart-wrenching sob and let everything that he'd been trying to hold in out.
"Bryce?" Tayler asked softly, knocking on the door once again and hoping for an answer. His only response was the sound of sniffles.
"I'm coming in, you better not be doing coke," he said in a joking tone, but when Bryce didn't respond with a laugh, but instead he was greeted by the sound of pure silence which was a red flag.
Tayler opened the door, his mouth falling wide at the sight of Bryce on the bed, his room trashed and tear stains on his cheek.
"Holy shit Bryce, what's going on?" Tayler asked, rushing over to him and sitting down on the bed to comfort him. Bryce's hands were held tightly over his face to hide his tears, feeling too embarrassed to show himself to his boyfriend. Tayler was grasping at his hands, trying to pull them away from his face so he could see what was going on. But Bryce's hands wouldn't budge, they were held so tightly against his cheeks to hide the tears and muffled his sobs.
"Bryce, move your hands please," Tayler practically begged, trying to yank them away but to no avail. He shook his head, tears beginning to seep out of the space between his chin and palms.
"Bryce, please! I need to make sure you're ok!" He continued, he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's body, pulling him close to his chest in an attempt to comfort him. Bryce finally let out a screaming sob, knowing he couldn't hold it in anymore.
"He's gone!" He screamed, bringing his hand to his wrist and beginning to harshly scratch it without even realizing he was doing so. Bryce needed to feel grounded, needed to feel like he was here and needed to be reminded that the world was still going on even though it felt like it was over.
"Who? Who baby?" Tayler asked, stroking a hand up and down his back, attempting to comfort him in any way he could.
"My dad! He's gone! That means h-he'll never meet his grandkids! Or be there to walk me down the aisle! He neve-" he was sobbing, realizing all the things that would and wouldn't happen since his dad was no longer here.
"Bryce! Don't scratch yourself!" He cried, grabbing his hands and steadying him, wanting to prevent him from doing something he would regret. Tayler laid down on the bed, grabbing Bryce by both of his arms and pulling him to lay flat against his chest.
"Let it out," Tayler said softly, feeling a few of his own tears roll down his cheek. Bryce's dad was also like a father to him, he actually accepted him, unlike his own father who thought he was a faggot.
"He's gone," was the last thing Bryce muttered before resting his head against Tayler's chest.
"I love you, I'm here," Tayler attempted to soothe but knew it was probably useless.
"Just don't leave me," Bryce replied, but falling silent afterward.
