"wait, what are you doi-"
one shot.
i'm sorry, tyler. i might've been able to see you again.
i'm sorry, frank and gerard. i should've listened to you.
i'm sorry, josh. for leaving you alone with ryan.
i don't expect an expensive funeral. in fact, i don't expect one at all. i expected ryan to just carry me out like any other deed. instead he hesitated before calling gerard and telling him what happened. he had the guts to at least do that. internally, gerard appreciated that.
he knew tyler was alive, and that ryan was actually going to help me find it.
the funeral was, of course, small. gerard didn't want to draw attention, but he thought it was respectful to give me a decent funeral.
gerard invited frank, ray, mike, andy, and ryan. he didn't blame ryan for my death. i was pressured, and i fell under that pressure.
a man showed up. dressed head to toe in black, his tie a bit crooked, and his eyes red from crying, along with his hair looking frizzy and unbrushed. he walked to the casket, and placed (favorite color) roses gently on top. he brushed his hair a bit the the side with his fingers, then turned around to face gerard.
"i'm sorry for your loss, mr. joseph" gerard mumbled.
"i thought you had the decency to invite the killer to the funeral" tyler splat, out of pure anger.
gerard didn't blame tyler for his tone. "you didn't kill her"
"it's the thought that counts" tyler left the cemetery.
that night, tyler ingested a lethal amount of painkillers. no note, but gerard knew exactly the reason why.