Jonathan ran his fingers through his hair nervously, bouncing his foot on the ground, the jerk his knee up and down. To say he was nervous was an understatement. How could he not be? He was about to marry the love of his goddamn life, something’s he been imagining for almost all of his life, and just thinking about that was making him feel slightly dizzy.
A large hand clapped down on his shoulder, gripping it reassuringly and he looked back to see that it was Tyler’s. “Stop worrying Jonathan. Lighten up man, be fucking happy, you’re about to marry the love of your life.”
Jonathan could only nod. He was happy, because how could he not be, but he couldn’t stop thinking that something would go inevitably wrong, so be it him falling or tripping or blurting out something utterly ridiculous.
He offered a small smile at Tyler’s efforts, grateful for his attempt, but it helped little to none.
He licked his lips, casting his eyes to the mirror and examined himself. He had to admit, he did looked nice in his tux, with his hair neatly trimmed and groomed to the side, courtesy of his mom, and the tuxedo fit his body nicely.
Breathing, he caught Brock’s eye through the mirror, who gave him a warm smile and Jonathan smiled back. He was grateful for his friends being here with him right now, because he was certain that he would most likely be a wreck without them.
Marcel came over, patting his shoulder reassuringly before leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, wrinkling his sleeves slightly as he watched Jonathan.
“So did you guys invite Evan? Or no?” Marcel asked, and everyone immediately turned to glare at him, their eyes judging and stern as he muttered out a meek ‘what did I say’, and Tyler crossed over, smacking him upside of his head.
“Shut up you fuck!” He hissed. Bringing up the topic of Evan wasn’t the best idea at the moment and for him to mention it while Jonathan was already jittery and nervous was just downright stupid.
“Don’t mention him! Not during his wedding,” Tyler chided, eyes skittering to Jonathan before focusing back on Marcel. “Are you fucking retarded?”
Marcel rubbed the back of his throbbing temple, sheepishly hanging his head at his mistake as he mumbled out a ‘sorry’ to Jonathan under Tyler’s command.
“Guys, its fine.” Jonathan reassured, yet his eyes were cloudy, his blue eyes darkening as he twiddled with his fingers, and they could all see the pain that the aforementioned name brought him. Evan was a tough topic for him and Luke to talk about. He hadn’t talked to him in almost a year after the incident, and Evan hadn’t made much of an effort to try and contact him either. To say he wasn’t upset about it was an understatement. Jonathan spent half of his nights laying awake at night, twiddling at the locket; a gift from Evan when in the beginnings of their relationship
“We, we uh actually did. Luke suggested it,” He murmured, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, as he cast his eyes downward.
He wasn’t too onboard with the idea at first, more worried about how it would affect Evan then him, and he and Luke had argued about it, until somehow, Luke had convinced him that it would be alright and that if he didn’t show up, then oh well and fuck it.
“I wasn’t too accepting of it at first,” He continued, and he watched as his friends all looked at each other, concern etched across their faces as they collectively frowned.
None of them were too onboard with it either. They had all talked among themselves a few times through skype, hoping that Evan hadn’t been invited, as cruel as it sounded, because if he showed up, if he fucking showed up to the wedding of the two guys who tore his heart apart and sent his life into a spiraling whirlwind of pain and heartbreak, then it wasn’t going to end pretty.
Wringing his hands together nervously, he glanced his eyes back up towards his friends, before continuing. “I didn’t want to have him come here, to force him to watch this and have him a piece of him die inside of him all over again.. I felt like we we’re going to rub it in his face, like it was nothing but laughs when it isn’t..” He trailed off, feeling his chest tightening, the memories and emotions fading through him like a tidal wave, and he blinked away the tears threatening to fall. “But he agreed. I don’t know fucking why, but he called Luke, telling him he was going to be there, because why wouldn’t he?And I’m just… worried ya now?”
The room was silent, the quiet sounds of Jonathan’s pants the only source of sound as everyone processed what was just spoken. No one had encouraging words to comfort him, to let him know that it was going to be alright, that it was the right decision. They all just exchanged worried glances, not knowing what to do, so they gave him comforting hugs before, telling him that he had absolutely nothing to worry about, before retreating out into the hallway.
“I don’t like it.” Brock blurted, darting his eyes between the guys as he shook his head. “I don’t think they’ve should have done that, to invite Evan.” They all knew how hostile and scary Evan could get, and to have him come and witness his ex-lover’s wedding, where he would marry the man that had caused the entire mess between them, could only lead to something terrible happening.
After more discussion, they decided to drop the topic, hoping that everything would go alright before heading down to the main hall, taking their seats accordingly while Brock stayed back, insisting that he rather stay back and see that Jonathan got down there safely.
Jonathan breathed, his hands slamming down onto the table in front of him as his anxiety rised to new heights. He didn’t need to be like this, panicking and worrying, he should’ve been excited and nervous because hell, he was about to marry the love of his goddamn life. His mind shouldn’t be stuck on someone who wasn’t even worried about him.
“Get yourself together, Jonathan. You’ll be fine, everything will be okay.” He coached to himself silently. He let his mind travel to Luke, and the unmistakable feeling of butterflies rushed throughout his body as he thought about how utterly stunning Luke probably looked right now, standing there in his suit and neatly trimmed hair and beard, waiting to see him walk down the aisle, to finally be able to marry him after all these years.
He let his mind focus on nothing but that, that he was going to walk down that aisle with no problems, that everything was going to be alright. and he needed to stop worrying, to let go.
Fixing his suit and tie, he looked at himself in the morning, closing his eyes as he breathed in a few times to calm his nerves. He smiled at himself, gaining a little more confidence before walking over to the door and throwing it open, not expecting to see Brock laying on the floor in a pool of sickening blood or Evan standing there, eyes filled with a mix of emotions and unseeing, holding a gun in on hand followed by a knife in his other.
“Evan!?” he choked out, backing into the room, his heart pounding against his chest. Jonathan didn’t think Evan would actually attend and have his heart broken all over again, because who would want to go through that type of pain all over again?
He took in a shaky breath, his gaze still locked onto the bloody man in front of him. The silence between them was unsettling, like a stifling cloud that was choking, and the suspense of what Evan was going to do had Jonathan’s nerves fluttering wildly.
“Did you think I wasn’t going to come Jonathan?” His voice was toneless and thick and the words rolled of his tongue bitterly as he advanced towards Jonathan slowly and threateningly. He wasn’t here for the same reasons as others; he wasn’t here to offer his support or goddamn sentiments to the people who had broken him. He suffered for far too long now, and to think that Jonathan and Luke had continued living their lives happily had hot, anger flooding through him until he saw nothing but red. “Did you think for a minute that I would sit back and let you two be fucking happy, to let me sit there and relieve the betrayal of what you two done to me?! HUH?!” He shouted, his words hard and venomous.
Shifting the knife into his back pocket, he tightened his grip on the gun and cocked it towards Jonathan, his chest heaving violently. His finger twitched, itching to pull the trigger, to hear the sweet sound of the gun ending Jonathan’s life and to watch Luke suffer until he His eyes locked onto Jonathan’s blue eyes that were wide and fearful, and every memory they had ever shared together came crashing back to him, his finger faltering on the trigger.
Jonathan smiled, looking at the mass display of wedding rings, every twinkle catching his eye.
Evan watched behind him, a smile on his lips at the thought of putting one of them on Jonathan’s finger one day.
He walked up behind him, laying his hands on his waist as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
“These are breathtaking, aren’t they?” He asked, and Jonathan nodded eagerly , turning to look at Evan as he muttered that they weren’t as breathtaking as he was before giggling.
Smiling, he grabbed Jonathan’s hand and led them out the store, and he felt a slight flutter in his chest as he caught the content smile on his boyfriend’s lip. He was grateful to have someone like him, and he couldn’t wait until the day he made it official with him, because Jonathan had done so much for him in so many ways possible. The love he had for him was unimaginable and words couldn’t describe how much he felt for him.
Evan leaned down, his lips hovering over Jonathan’s, barely an inch of space between them and he pecked his lips and Jonathan eyelids fluttered, blushing a bright pink as he grinned up at him.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing, I just… I love you. I love you so goddamn much Jonathan.”
“I love you too, Evan.”
The words echoed painfully in his mind and he blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall before readjusting his hold on the gun as he shook his head clear of the memory. It had only served as a painful reminder of what he had lost, of what Jonathan had caused him to lose and that was all it took for him to advance closer, cocking the gun towards his head as he smiled bitterly. He could feel his anger spiking again, his chest beating a mile a minute and his breathing had begun to grow ragged and uneven.
Jonathan eyed the gun warily, inching backwards as he wiped the sweat that had slickened his hands onto his jeans. He had never realized how much damage they had done to Evan, how much shit that he put up with for the past years, by himself as he silently watched the two people who had destroyed his life lived on with theirs and left him to become a broken, crumbling mess.
There was countless times where Jonathan had wanted to call Evan and talk to him, to explain himself. It had killed him inside for the first few months, knowing that he never got the chance to apologize, that he had lost the chance to make things right with his once best friend.
He locked eyes with Evan, his chest pounding and he didn’t know whether it was from fear or from the renowned guilt building back up, but he knew that no amount of persuading was going to convince Evan to put down the gun and rethink his actions. Evan was to far gone now, so goddamn deep in revenge and agony for all these years that it broke him and it was too late for pity.
“Evan, I — I never meant to leave you like this. I wanted to talk to you, to work things out, and I, just, Evan I’m sor —”
“Don’t!!” Evan hissed, his voice biting and rough. “I don’t want to hear your goddamn apologies! It's too fucking late for that! It’s not going to change a goddamn thing about what you did Jonathan! SO DON’T! Don’t fucking pretend that you’re fucking sorry for what you goddam did to me you bitch!” He spat and his tone was chilling and it dissipated any small amount of hope that Jonathan had. It was useless to try and reason with him because he no matter how much he pleaded or apologized, Evan was going to kill him.
It brought down a painful reality that he was going to die on the day of his wedding, with the love of his life and he wouldn’t have the privilege to see Luke one last time, or say his “I do’s”. Everything they ever had was going to be stripped away from them with a single bullet and Jonathan would be nothing but a memory, a piercing ache in everyone’s chest as a reminder that he wasn’t here anymore, that his uplifting laughter and banter would no longer be around, and because of him being a fucking asshole.
He closed his eyes, dropping his arms down to his side, letting them hang stiffly as he balled his hands into tight fists. There was no more use in fighting, in trying to reason, it was no point in trying to live anymore. He could only accept the fact that everything he lived for was gone now, that it was going to be destroyed and that broke him. .
He waited for the booming sound of the gun to go off, he waited to feel the excruciating pain of the bullet piercing through his body yet none of it came. Instead he heard Evan’s hard voice fill the silence, ordering him to open his eyes and look at him.
“I want to know, before I kill you… why did you fucking do it? Huh?” Evan spat, stepping closer, close enough to press the gun to into the base of Jonathan’s head, the cool metal chilling against Jonathan’s skin.
“Are you going to answer me?!” Evan barked, pressing the gun harder into his neck, resting his finger on the trigger lightly as he waited for an answer.
But Jonathan couldn’t answer, because even he himself didn’t know why he did it. He didn’t know why instead of sitting down with Evan and telling him that they weren’t working out anymore and that he was going to move to North Carolina with someone else he had been seeing, he had just went ahead and packed up, leaving in the middle of the day when Evan was at work when Luke had called him, reminding him that their flight was in a few hours and telling him to come hurry down to his house. He didn’t know why he didn’t tell Luke to wait, that he needed to at least be a somewhat decent person and let Evan know everything, but he didn’t.
He couldn’t bring himself to keep looking up at Evan, so he casted his eyes downward, curling his fingers in slightly as they trembled, and he muttered out a in a low, defeated voice that he didn’t know why he did it. There was no feasible explanation to try and defend himself and he knew nothing would change the fact at how much of an asshole he had been.
Evan’s eyes hardened as he shifted the gun off the back of Jonathan’s neck and aimed it at his chest.
“Its a shame really.” Evan said, glaring at Jonathan harshly. “Dead on your wedding day, before you can even say your vows, before you can say goodbye to your fucking precious Luke one last time. A day that was meant to be delightful and euphoric and beautiful about to ruined into suffering and bleakness.” The words rolled of his tongue tastefully and just the thought of corrupting everything they had together had him crawling with yearning and excitement,and he couldn’t hold it back anymore, the thirst for Luke’s pain, for Jonathan’s blood, it was what he’s been waiting to do for all these years, so when he pulled his finger back on the trigger and heard the sweet sound of the gun going off he couldn’t help the grin that made its way onto his lips.
His eyes watched as the bullet pierced through Jonathan’s chest and the blood quickly seeped through his dress shirt, painting it a sickly deep red. Evan pulled the trigger twice more, listening as Jonathan staggered backwards, his hands coming to rest on his wounds and the blood gathered on his hands, dripping onto the floor in silent patterns beneath him. His hands shook violently as he coughed up bits of blood that splattered in front of him. His mind was fuzzy and odd and he felt his body falling, the floor rushing up to him in a flashing matter. His body slowly began to give up on him, his breaths turning short and ragged as black spots flashed in and out of his vision. A tear fell silently, trailing down his face as he struggled to hold on and he fished the necklace Luke had gotten him for his birthday out of his pocket and squeezed it tightly.
Evan walked over to him, drinking in his pathetic attempts to breathe and the way his hands shook as they clutched the necklace in his hands heartbreakingly. “Ahh, this really is a shame isn’t it?” Evan mumbled, pointing the gun at Jonathan’s head and pulled, the blast echoing of the walls loudly before the room was filled with sudden silence and Jonathan’s body went limp, the necklace rolling out of his hands
The blast of the gun had been heard all the way in the hall where everyone was waiting. Luke had become anxious, looking at the door every second, praying to see Jonathan’s sweet baby face walking through. Tyler and Marcel had become worried as well, concerned that whatever reason Jonathan was being held up had to do with Evan.
Everyone had heard the first three loud bangs, but the officials told them to not to worry and to stay seated. But when they heard it the fourth time, the sound loud and frightening, Luke couldn’t handle it and rushed out the door, followed by the rest of his friends. The twisting feeling in his stomach that something was wrong with Jonathan had him sweaty and panicking.
“What room was he in?” He asked, and Tyler dashed in front of him, leading the way to the hallway where they had left Jonathan. They all stopped, their eyes locking onto Brock, who was slumped against the wall with blood pooling around him and his head was lolled to the side. Everyone’s heart dropped to their stomach, and Brian was the first to rush over, tears rushing down his face as he gripped Brock’s shoulders tightly and muttered for him to wake up, to do something, but Brock stayed unresponsive.
The guys heart broke at the fact their friend was dead, and they were worried now about Jonathan’s condition.
Luke casted a glance at Brock one last time, his chest clenching at the sight of Brian a broken mess on the floor, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw when he opened the door. The sharp metallic smell of blood hit him immediately as he stepped through, and he caught sight of Jonathan’s lifeless body on the floor, surrounded by blood, and everything around him shattered. He stumbled back, shocked, his heart racing and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, because Jonathan was dead, gone. The room around him spun as he rushed over to Jonathan, falling to his knees as he spluttered nonsense and tears overtook him as he grasped Jonathan’s body to him, muttering his name over and over. He hadn’t noticed Evan in the corner watching him, his eyes hard and emotionless as he watched Luke break down.
The rest of the guys hadn’t seen him either as they watched on solemnly, yet they weren’t shocked when Evan came into view, glancing at them briefly before turning into his attention to the southern man in front of him.
“How does it feel Luke? How does it fucking feel to see your life falling apart and ruined in front of you?”
Luke turned to see Evan smirking behind him, fiddling with the gun in his hands and his blood boiled at the sight of him, at the fact that it was him who had done this to Jonathan. Luke didn’t think as he got up and grabbed him by his collar, yanking Evan towards him.
“It was you?! You fucking killed Jonathan? And for what? For fucking what? WHY EVAN?!” His emotions was a jumbling mix of anger, grief, and so much more, and he couldn’t contain himself as he punched Evan in the face, feeling the satisfying crunch of his nose under his fist as he watched him step back.
He hit him again and again with crushing blows, a harsh burn in his chest as the rage in him became uncontrollable with each punch, cries of rage and pain ripping through his throat as he continued. His vision became filled with red spots as Evan struggled beneath him, trying to block his hits and the guys watched on, too stunned and heartbroken to try and stop him.
Luke stopped, his chest heaving as he whipped out the gun he kept with him at all times and aimed it at Evan’s head, looking on as Evan smirked, reaching for the knife in his back pocket.
“Are you done?” He asked, wiping the blood that was running down his face.
“Do you think this is a fucking game?! Huh? You fucking killed Jonathan, you killed him, the one thing that meant so damn much to me; my life!” Luke yelled.
“You deserve this.” Luke muttered, his voice strangled, about press down on the trigger as hot tears trailed down his face and Evan took his chance, bring his arm to slice the knife cleanly across the side of his neck, deep enough to hit an artery where he would bleed out in a matter of minutes, unable to react as Luke pressed down on the trigger reflexively.
Evan’s body fell limp in a matter of seconds, his eyes dead and unseeing as they stared up at the ceiling. Luke dropped the gun, his body growing weaker by the second as he fell to the side. He brought his hands up to the wound, the blood rushing out alarmingly fast and he knew he didn’t have long to last, that he was going to bleed out soon.
Black spots flashed in and out of his vision and his breathing began to slow. He could barely hear the garbled noises of his friends yelling for help around him, rushing to his side. His mind was becoming fuzzy, and the only thing he could think about was Jonathan, how he never got to say he loved him one last time, he never got a chance to kiss him, to marry him.
Everything came to a slow, his heart beginning to give out and his body starting to fall heavy and it was becoming harder to keep his eyes open. He struggled to turn his head so he could look at Jonathan one last time and as he took in his last few breaths, he reached his arm out to grab Jonathan’s outstretched hand and grabbed it tightly, his last “I love you” dying on his lips as he died in his friend arms.