This place wasn't right, far too many people had come. Chris could recall only a few of the faces of classmates, former and current, and though most of them came to pay their respects, most of them didn't belong. He alsat, uncomfortably in the pew behind Izzy, and felt the urge to reach out and touch her. He stopped himself though. He was far from good at this stuff, and he knew he was a total wreck himself. Granted, as smart as Chris was, he knew very little about consoling someone. Even if she was one of his closest friends in a time where they were all hurt. And especially knowing that all he did was cry, it felt, since he got the news.

Fucking drunk assholes. 

Chris had drowned everything out, looking at the background on his phone, seeing a picture of Izzy and Ricki smiling in each other's arms, and Matt, Roland and himself acting like idiots. It was taken just three days before the accident, at his own 18th birthday party. 

He fidgeted, loosening the tie around his neck, and sitting more comfortably. He hated suits, they made things feel too real. And he didn't want this to feel real. He didn't want to believe that this happened. He knew all about the five stages of grief, and knew he had been through all but the last a dozen or more times already. He didn't want to accept this. Roland didn't deserve any of this. 

He looked to his right, where Matt had once sat, but he hadn't been back in a while. His eyes wandered again, and his eyes fell on Ashley Everwood. He remembered all the drama with her, and was honestly surprised she came. She and Roland had been middle school sweethearts, and dated into their sophomore year, but Ashley grew jealous when Ricki joined the group and they ended in a lot of drama.

Speaking of Ricki, Chris hadn't seen her either. Not since he pulled up and saw her sitting in her car, smoking a cigarette. The pouring rain outside hitting the roof of the establishment snapped his attention away for just a moment before his phone vibrated in his pocket and he read the message. He responded, offering Izzy a ride of she needed it, but turned his attention back to the service upon hearing the sobbing girl in front of him. He would never be able to calm his friends the way Roland and Matt coul. Never...

--

Her eyes, normally a bright hazel were darkened, red and puffy. Christina Sinclaire wwasn't prepared for any of this. Her black dress made it feel too real, and the bouquet of flowers in her passenger seat for the graveside service were haunting her. Red roses and white lillies. The roses were for her love of the man who had been killed... and the white lillies for the fallen innocence.

She had been sitting in the way back through the entire service, tears on her face coming steadily. If anyone should have been there, it should have been her. Roland was too good, so full of light, and she was dark... no one would miss her as much as they would miss him. No one. 

She exited the main room, heading towards the bathrooms upon hearing some bangs and thuds from the men's room. She stopped, her mind catching her a moment.

[I]"Ricki! Open the damned door!" Roland was yelling from the other side. It was at the end of their sophomore year of high school, and she locked herself in the gym closet. She had been having a really bad day and Roland found cuts down her arm, despite her wearing long sleeves. "Ricki!"

Finally she opened the door, her eyes welled with tears. "It won't go away." She sobbed, letring herself fall into his arms. "I can't do it anymore."

"You look at me." He said, firmly, and Ricki looked up. "You think you're weak, but you're not, and you know I am here when you need help. I don't know what I would do if I lost you, if we all lost you."

"Rol, they wouldn't know why." She grumbled.

"You're going to have to tell them, Rick." He whispered, gently stroking her hair. "We're not going to be able to hide this forever. I keep it secret because you asked me to, but you can trust them, you know that."

Ricki looked up to him...[/I]

The next thud snapped her back, and she gently opened the men's room door, not caring really, and she found Matt there. "Matt?" Her voice came out like a whisper before she entered and walked over to him, placing her hand on his back.

She couldn't say anything else, so she knelt in front of him and brought her arms around him. A simple gesture, but she knew she could use a hug, and from the looks of it, he did too.

Her phone went off, but she ignored it for the moment, and she pulled away and wiped her eyes, trying her hardest not to cry anymore. She had cried for days, and she hadn't eaten or slept really either. You wouldn't be able to tell from all the make up she was wearing though, but as she looked at Matt, she offered her hand as she stood. "Come on. Let me look at your hand, you're bleeding."

She'd know all about that. She always did.