Chapter Text
Jeremy Knox -> Kevin Day
Missed Call (5)
kev please call me back
Jeremy Knox -> Andrew Minyard
Call Ended
0:31 min
Jean Moreau -> Kevin Day
Missed Call
Jean Moreau -> Neil Josten
Missed Call
Ou est tu
Batarde
Ou ets tu piurqoui nest pas avec kevin
Ou est kevin
Call Ended
1:48 min
Jean Moreau -> Kevin Day
Missed Call (11)
Abby Winfield -> David Wymack
Do you know who all are coming over this weekend?
Don’t forget to pick up the grapes
Love you ❤️
Footsteps muffled by a thick carpet. The scraping of curtain rings as a hand reaches out to draw them back. The click of a lock.
On the desk, a half-filled sheet of paper. The ink has blotted through the paper in several places, making what’s written on it hard to read:
Dear Riko,
Katelyn Mackenzie -> Aaron Minyard
um
u just got a letter!!!!
like. an actual letter
written stamped everything
not a library receipt or anything
What?
yeppp
from kevin
What 😭
Kevin day??
yeah babe how many kevins do we know
maybe he sent match tickets?
We haven’t talked in months
yeah so he’s probably reaching out
Kevin doesn’t reach out
you havent talked to him in months
people change
anyway should i open it
If you want
I’ll read it when I get back
i’ll wait for you!!!
i want you to look me in the eye when i’m proved right <3
You won’t be proved right
<3
Jean Moreau -> David Wymack
Missed Call (2)
Jeremy Knox -> Andrew Minyard
Image
i’ve booked the 2 o clock flight
it’s the first one out
how far are u
Andrew’s driving this is neil
Ten minutes away
ok
jean can’t reach coach wymack but maybe kev woudl answer if he called
I’ll try
Andrew Minyard -> David Wymack
Missed Call
Neil Josten -> David Wymack
Missed Call (3)
Neil Josten -> Jeremy Knox
He’s not answering
He must have got a letter
He’s probably already with kevin
i hope so
Dear Riko,
I do not remember much of what we were like as children, and anything I do remember is in the form of facts rather than actual memories. But I remember this: every Friday, we used to accompany my mother and your uncle to Evermore (we usually met at my mother’s house other days of the week) and there was nothing I used to look forward to more than that. Back then, when my mother was still around, it wasn’t always dark, because it wasn’t underground. Do you remember? A series of dormitories were set up around the court, and the rooms under the court were built to house overseas pro teams during the world cup.
You told me, once, that you were afraid of your uncle. When I asked you why, you told me he used to punish you when you did something wrong. I didn’t understand, then, what you meant. I was punished when I did something wrong, too — I couldn’t have ice cream for a week, couldn’t watch cartoons for the rest of the day, had to finish everything on my plate.
I understood punishment — contrition — only after [something is scratched out] I came to live with you. And not even immediately after. I think now that the Mast your uncle had been afraid that I would leave, or ask for help, or do something worse, if I knew the extent of this contrition. It was easier to break me slowly. Of course, I was also miserable then. You weren’t — for the first time, you weren’t miserable, because for the first time, you had someone to depend on. But I was miserable.
I don’t know where I’m trying to go with this. Nothing I have said so far makes much sense. [something is scratched out] None of this does. I suppose what I am trying to say is that I miss you, and I’m miserable again, and you are not here this time. I do not want you to be here, because the last time I saw you, you had become your uncle and I had become you, but I still miss you.
[something is scratched out]
Everybody thinks you killed yourself. That’s funny, isn’t it? No, I suppose not. Not really. Because if I didn’t know what really happened, I might have believed them. After Jean tried to slit his wrists when we were eighteen, if I had not known better, I would have said you were jealous. Jean had always been more whole than you ever were, no matter how much you tried to wear him down. If you were in his place, you would not have endured. Were I in his place, I also would not have endured. He is made of stronger stuff than you and I, because he knows where he stands. You were a pawn holding a crown and thinking it made you a king. I was a pawn holding a grudge and thinking it could make me something more.
This is stupid. You are dead. You will not read this.
Abby Winfield -> Andrew Minyard
Hi Andrew!
David just got home
He saw that you were calling him but his phone died before he could answer
Do you need anything?
Where is he
Right now
Home! Everything ok?
Call Ended
1:03
Abby Winfield -> Kevin Day
Missed Call (2)
This is David
Answer the phone
Missed Call (4)
I cannot always say if you were alive because you wanted to live or because you needed to live. Of course, I am under no illusions that you enjoyed living, but perhaps you still wanted to live so you could live to see your father accept you, or whatever it was you wanted enough to kill for it. You needed your life to be better than it was, and yet you never thought ‘better’ existed. Jean knew better existed, just assumed it wasn’t for him. But you and I were raised to think we had it best. When your uncle brought your racquet down on you, you could not defend yourself because you had it best. When you brought the knives down on me, I could not complain because I had it best. And then you broke my hand, and I decided I could have better. You were never that naive.
But you were, I suppose. Right at the end. Neil said it happened too fast for you to do anything, but I think you just did not want to fight back. When you looked inside the barrel of your brother’s gun, you finally found what you had been searching for.
But maybe not. That could just be me. On that note, I’ll get to the point now.
Last week, I found out you don’t need a license to buy a gun, just to carry it. I also bought a round of bullets, just in case I missed. On Thursday, I informed Coach Williams that I would be taking a prolonged leave. Yesterday, I sent out the letters. Today, I began writing this one.
I do not know if I believe in heaven and hell, but if they do exist, I know where you would be. I also know that that is where I would be headed as well. For both our sakes, let’s hope there is no such thing as hell.
Your Fri
- Kevin
Jeremy Knox -> Neil Josten
news?
Almost there
A click. A bang. A ringing silence. The low light of dusk spilled in through the open window, soaking into the floorboards like soft honey and dragging long shadows over where his finger lay twitching against the darkening bedspread. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolled the hour, and then, closer, a key turned in the lock of the apartment door.