2019, October 15TuesdayStefan can only stare at Pippa distraught. Any avenue he had towards seeing his family again, to seeing Petra, was as dead as Stefan Riley would be to the outside world. He should wash out, is his first thought. He immediately dismisses it. It was a risk, Christine had told him. There was no guarantee Pippa would go for it. Even if she did, there was no guarantee the custodian of Dorley Hall would approve. And judging by the way Pippa was pying with her bracelet, Stefan knew who to cast the majority of the bme on.

  “I’m just going to vanish?” he asks. “And my sister…” He doesn’t even have to fake the tears, not that he would. Pippa’s rubbing her entire arm now, and sure he was being a bit maniputive but for all intents and purposes, she had just killed him. To the outside world at least.

  “I’m sorry, Stefan. That’s just how things are done.” He sobs, and her face hardens. “You’re here for a reason. Society is better off without you around. Society is better off without every one of you around. And as much as you can’t yet see it, this is a kindness. How much does your family know about you? I think they only know the sweet, innocent facade you put up. I know what your kind is like all too well, Stefan Riley.” She’s proper angry now, and it’s all Stefan can do to stay there, to not flinch at every accusation she levels at him. Christine was right: Pippa despises him.

  “So what’s next?” he asks. He’s drained. He’s far more upset about his prospects here than he was just a few hours ago, but then again, that’s not exactly true either. He’s not upset about his prospects here, that’s the entire point. But when he has to make a new life on the outside, after he graduates, as Christine put it, that’s what he’s anxious about. He won’t have anyone. But Melissa went through the programme. Sure these thoughts aren’t enough to make him feel particurly better in the moment, but it does give him something to tch onto. I’m not truly alone. I’ll be able to see Melissa when I leave.

  But still, this isn’t going to be a comfort to his mum, his dad, or Petra. They will never know what happened to their son, her brother. Just like Russ never knew what happened to his own. Oh, God, and Russ! Despite their falling out, Stefan is pretty sure they were still on speaking terms. Now, by the rules of this pce, he would never be able to talk to anyone from his old life, ever again. Except Melissa, but she’s a special case. She had already gone through the programme.

  A sharp sound brings him out of his spiralling. Pippa is snapping her fingers to get his attention. “For now, I’d suggest you get acclimatised to your new room. When it’s time for dinner, it will be delivered to you.” She remains detached in her demeanour, and Stefan can barely hold himself together while she walks out of the room. As the door locks, he can’t help but completely break down.

  *** ### *** ### ***

  New User 63

  Hello, Stef?

  Stef

  who is this please

  ?

  New User 63

  It should say.

  Oh.

  Drat.

  Sorry.

  Christine set this up for me.

  Stef

  You know Christine?

  New User 63

  Yes.

  Hold on, I think I’ve worked this out.

  > New User 63 has changed her name to Abby.

  Abby

  How’s that? ?

  Stef

  abby, hi

  aren’t you the girl in the pictures with melissa?

  oh shit should we even be talking about that on here

  Abby

  Christine says we won’t leave logs, and neither of the cameras in your room are angled so they can see the screen. So as long as you close the chat window when we’re done, you’re fine. You can say whatever you want.

  Stef

  there are cameras in here?

  Abby

  There are cameras everywhere. It’s kind of our thing. In your room, there’s one over the door and another over the wardrobe, pointing down towards the bed.

  Stef

  I can’t see them

  I believe you though

  so that was you in the pictures?

  Abby

  Which pictures?

  Stef

  photobooth

  Abby

  Oh! I know the ones. ?

  That’s me, yes. I went to see her back in August.

  Stef

  where does she live?

  what does she do?

  Abby

  Questions I can’t answer, I’m afraid. Not without her permission.

  And Christine has persuaded me that it would not be wise to bring her up to speed just yet.

  Two of us knowing is enough.

  Plus, she would come racing back here and demand to see you and probably blow the whole thing. Liss is many things, but sneaky is not one of them.

  Stef

  she’d really come straight here just for me?

  she still cares about me?

  Abby

  She thinks the WORLD of you.

  It’s going to break her heart when she hears you’re missing.

  Stefand petra will still grow up not knowing where I went

  fuck

  I just wish I could still give her some closure you know?

  Abby

  Yeah, I’m sorry that Christine couldn’t convince Pippa to go with the backpacking idea. We’ve been trialling the idea of seeing family again though, maybe some day.

  Stef

  what if I left a note?

  something to at least expin why im gone

  Abby

  I can talk to Pippa, we don’t usually leave notes when we stage a suicide but it’s far from unprecedented.

  Stef

  can I write it?

  I promise I’ll make it convincing

  most of it will probably be what I would have written a few months from now anyway

  abby?

  are you there?

  Abby

  Sorry, I just spoke with Christine. I think we could make this work.

  Stef

  ok thank you

  Stefan closes the Consensus window. He’s still extremely hurt that he’s had to cut all ties, to let go of Petra, and he’s considering asking Christine to try and get him out again. No matter how impossible, he has to see Petra again.

  His mind wanders back to what Abby said though, that they were “trialling” seeing family. He wants to have that opportunity. Could he perhaps keep the possibility that he’s alive in the note? Maybe, if he’s deliberate, he can sneak something under Pippa’s gaze. He spent years trying to get into Saints, and two years more on a linguistics course he never really cared much about. Perhaps he could make use of it one final time.

  Hopefully Pippa doesn’t look too carefully.

  *** ### *** ### ***

  2019, October 18FridayThe news of Stef’s suicide hits Russell like a truck. His first crush – even if he didn’t know that was what it was at the time – dead. He can scarcely believe it. Sure, it was him who pushed Stef away when Stef insisted that Mark was still alive, but he still hoped to reconcile at some point.

  Who is he kidding? He kept pushing people away. Mark, when he insisted on speaking about Mum in the present tense. Stef, when he took on Mark’s role after Mark died. That’s just the kind of person he is, but damn it if he can’t fix himself.

  He’s been messaging with Mrs. Riley. At least Stef left a note; that was the one thing he wished Mark had done. And she’s agreed to send him a copy. Apparently he was named in it. Not as a reason, she was quick to reassure him, but Stef still thought about him to the st.

  He gets a notification from his email address, because of course it’s easier to compose a full email than to just put the image in a bloody text. But it would be rude to point that out.

  Dear Russell, begins the email.

  I know you and Stefan had a falling out, but I also know you still cared for each other. Your support over these st few days has been invaluable. Both Daniel and I are truly grateful.

  Attached is a photo of the note, and also an invitation to the memorial service. It will be on Tuesday, at St. Almsworth’s Cathedral. We would also like to extend our invitations for you to be a pallbearer, if you wish. You don’t have to decide today, but please contact Reverend Keeling by Monday afternoon.

  Regards,

  Sharon Riley

  He feels guilty for his earlier frustrations. That was definitely material for an email, not a text. He looks at the attachments, just a JPEG. He nearly can’t bring himself to open the image, but he does so despite how turbulent his emotions already are.

  The first thing he notices is that it’s just a simple sheet of paper. It’s typed, but signed. That fact alone nearly causes the dam to burst. It’s more real than just knowing, now. If he had the physical copy, it would probably already be wet with tears. That thought is buried as quickly as it surfaces.

  Petra,

  I love you, and I wish there was a way to prove this to you despite what I’m about to do.

  He nearly stops reading. So many wounds have been re-opened already.

  You do not deserve the consequences of my actions, and for that, I am sorry. The least I can do for you is offer you closure, so you know why I had no choice but to do what I did.

  Things have been awful for me, these past few years. I hate everything about myself. But I didn’t show it, because there was hope.

  He can only picture how happy Stef was when he thought he saw Mark at the Tesco. And it’s not like he can’t rete, after Mum died. Of course, his was more metaphorical. He didn’t actually hallucinate ghosts.

  I went to lectures, I went to work, and I let my obsession with Mark get the better of me. You were too young to remember him, but you know my friend Russ. He was Mark’s brother.

  And there it is. God, why couldn’t Mark just go away? He’s been dead seven years, for Christ’s sake! Always compared, always told to be more like Mark. Depressed, selfish Mark. Couldn’t even keep from pushing away the friends closest to him.

  He knows he nearly stopped at the beginning, but this time he seriously considers it. He didn’t expect to be insulted, even indirectly, but he can’t. Stef still considered me his friend, he realises. No matter what, he didn’t break things permanently. But Stef did, by dying, he thinks again. How awful.

  I’ve been neglecting myself. I haven’t been the brother to you that I was supposed to be. I haven’t really been a brother at all. And I can’t fix that, and I can’t live with myself knowing how much I’ve hurt you. When I say things have been awful I truly mean it, I can’t get out of bed without using all the energy I have for the day, and then I have to study, and work, and stew in all the people I’ve hurt and all the ways I’ve hurt you.

  It’s too much.

  This isn’t your fault, this isn’t anyone’s fault but my own. But this is the only way I can reach some sembnce of peace. There’s nothing I can do to stop the pressure. I have no money. I have no future. And I’m ashamed at myself that I failed you, that I’m letting this pressure take over me and taking the coward’s way out. It isn’t fair to you.

  Live a full life, please Petra. Live one where you are happy with yourself. Be happy in the ways that I could not be.

  All my love,

  Stef

  He’s shaking from the ghosts of unshed tears by the time he’s finished. He hadn’t even noticed his boyfriend Simeon had got home, and had been hugging him from behind. How long was he just sitting there, staring, rereading?

  It’s seven thirty. Over an hour, then. He’s exhausted. He gets up, and goes to bed. Despite this, sleep doesn’t come easy.

  *** ### *** ### ***

  2019, October 22TuesdayHe understands why the funeral is being held here in Almsworth. Not only is this where Stef grew up, and had lived his entire life, it’s also where the majority of people he knew are. He sits only a few pews forward of the rear of the chapel, stewing in his thoughts, watching mourners arrive. There are a few more people here than he would have expected. Much of his family are here, which makes sense. Most of them live in the south-east of Engnd, nearby. He’s almost surprised his father isn’t here, too.

  I let my obsession with Mark get the better of me. That still rattles around in his mind. The Stef he knows – knew – would never say something like that. But it has been a while. People change. But something like this? Something so fundamental to who Stefan Riley was, to how he had structured his life? It doesn’t make sense, even if he had been dealing with “issues.” But then again, he had started getting conspiratorial when he thought Mark was still alive. Maybe he finally snapped, finally came to this realisation that Mark was dead, and decided to follow in his footsteps. How incredibly selfish.

  He’s interrupted by more family. He provides his condolences, and they provide theirs. The world just feels dull. He’s got Simeon, but he doesn’t know how long that will st. Hopefully it becomes a long term thing. There’s more people arriving now, more family. He looks over at Petra, Stef’s little sister. She’s only ten. Old enough to understand death. Old enough to understand her big brother is gone. And Stef left her. Just like Mark left him. As delusional as Stef was about Mark, clearly he could not comprehend the idea of leaving behind the person he cared most about in the world behind. And yet he did.

  He’s hollow. It’s like the part of him that broke when Mark died has well and truly shattered. Now friends and acquaintances are arriving. Twenty minutes until the service begins. He studies them. Stef’s ftmates Connor and James, of course. They’re closer to the front than he would expect. Second row. They’ve only known Stef for a few weeks, surely. Or maybe Stef knew them earlier, who’s to say? Idle specution is the only thing he has right now, as a distraction. He gnces at the clock; fifteen minutes to go. An older woman walks in and has a brief conversation with Mr and Mrs Riley. But she’s also not family.

  She’s talking to a couple of people, a man and a woman he can’t identify. Friends of Stef’s from css maybe? He doesn’t care much to listen to the conversation. Idly, he spins the programme around in his hands, and has another quick read of it.

  Order of ServiceIn Memoriam of Stefan RileyBrother, Son, Friend9:00am: Opening Prayer                  Rev. Keeling

  9:05am: Reflections on Life of the departed          Rev. Keeling

  9:15am: Selected Musical Piece              Joanna Frazier

  9:20am: Tribute Video                   Sharon Riley

  9:25am: Scripture Reading                 Rev. Keeling

  9:30am: Memorial Speech                 Daniel Riley

  9:40am: Friends and Family Share Memories            Various

  10:20am: Closing Prayer, Acknowledgements         Rev. Keeling

  Please Join Us For Refreshments After The Service

  Two others have entered now. Both women, one bck with dark hair and gsses, and the other with light, short hair. They aim for a pew just a couple rows ahead of him. They’re both very pretty though. Russ is surprised that Stef knew them. He was never outgoing, per se. Stef was charming and sociable, sure, but even Russ knows they were way out of his league.

  Actually, he’s not even sure that they are grieving exes. Cssmates perhaps? He doesn’t know the demographics of the course Stef took, linguistics if he remembers correctly. Maybe Stefan sat next to them in lectures. He’s gonna want to speak to them if that’s the case. But now isn’t the time. Everyone is getting seated, and there’s only a minute until the service starts. The reverend is already standing patiently at the lectern. It’s time to begin.

  “Friends,” Reverend Keeling begins. “Family. Colleagues. We are here today to mourn the passing of Stefan Riley, a young man, a faithful man, who has been brought before our Lord in Heaven.” Russ tunes out at this. He knows exactly what this pastor would be saying about people like himself on Sundays, especially if his father still attends. There’s a reason he hasn’t come out to his dad, and probably never will. So, he turns his attention towards the people in the chapel. Some are following along in prayer. Others have their heads bowed respectfully, as would be expected. A few more people, like Mrs Riley especially, are too upset to follow along in prayer, choosing instead to mourn with their tears. He understands. If he remembered how to cry he might be in a simir boat.

  Before long, the opening prayer is complete, and the pastor goes through a brief obituary for Stef. His growing up in Almsworth, his blossoming ter in life, and his studies taking him to the town’s own university, Saints. This, Russ listens to. Anything to feel closer to his friend, and he’s gd Stef still considered him a friend despite them having grown apart in recent years. It’s a nice reflection, Russ decides. And it fits his memory. Why I had no choice but to do what I did. Not like that. Stef always talked about how his hope for Mark was a choice.

  After a rendition of Abide with Me, Mrs Riley gets to the lectern, dabbing at her face with a hanky. It pains Russ to see her in this way. She was always good to him, especially after Mark died. She also made the video, or selected the photos, close enough. As Canon in D begins pying, and photos start showing across the screens, it’s impossible for him to look away. Scenes from Stef’s life – from before Russ moved to Almsworth – burn themselves into his brain. Many of these photos he’s never seen before. Most he will never see again.

  Eventually, Russ appears in some of them, but the timeframe between each picture is getting greater and greater. The quality is a lot more varied as well. A photo from Stef’s twelfth birthday party, of Stef blowing out the candles with Russ and Mark clearly visible in frame brings back painful feelings. That was always something Stef shared with Mark, their birthdays coming one after another. Russ, having been born in April, did not get that connection. Just a shame it took so long for the true source of that pain to make itself known to him.

  It’s not long before the video ends, however, and there’s a short reading from scripture. Russ can’t be bothered to pay attention to the more religious parts of the funeral. He isn’t exactly sure Stefan would’ve minded, anyway. Stef had always done his best to wriggle out of going on Sundays whenever he had a genuine excuse for it. Maybe Stefan was like himself, or close enough. Wouldn’t that be tragic?

  Mr Riley is up next once the pastor has finished with his readings and delivers his eulogy. It’s getting harder and harder for Russ to pay attention though, as he’s trying to distance himself from the funeral. He needs a distraction; something to keep his mind off the proceedings. There’s a hollowness inside of him that grows deeper with every word spoken, each a dagger of resignation.

  But he can’t bring himself to find a worthy one. The sorrow of the mourners, the wind outside, it all carries an oppressive atmosphere that not even leaving would rid him of. So as he continues to just sit there, he puts half of his mind on Mr Riley’s speech which is wrapping up now, and half on the crowd. He cps sombrely. There’s nothing else to do but continue to resign himself.

  “We now invite friends and family to share memories they have of Stefan.” The pastor’s invitation is expectant, and sure enough, there is movement. An older woman stands, checks on Petra, and then walks to the lectern. She’s Stef’s grandmother, still living in Almsworth. She’s in her seventies or eighties, but still moves with power and strength. Her speech sts a good ten minutes, and for most of it she’s making gnces towards the front row on the family side, probably towards Petra. Russ can empathise with Petra. He wasn’t able to speak at Mark’s funeral either.

  Next up is the older woman from earlier, one of Stefan’s lecturers apparently. He was a bright kid, although Russ already knew that, and his death came as a bit of a shock to her as well. She had nothing but good things to say about his work ethic, even if he had seemed a bit down this term. This speech is shorter, which makes sense, and Russ finds his train of thought surprising. Why is he judging these speeches for how much sense they make? Is he really so desperate to believe that something foul happened? It must be the guilt of not making up when he had the chance.

  Connor, Stef’s ftmate, is up next. He only has a few thoughts to share and it seems that they really did only know each other since shortly before term began. He recalls Stef wanting to make a good first impression, bringing home chocote cake after work. There’s an undercurrent of bitterness from the student that nobody calls out though. It’s fair though, Stefan having left the two of them with rent for three.

  The clock bell goes off at ten, just as Connor is finishing up. There’s silence for a moment after, but then Russ locks eyes with Reverend Keeling and stands.

  The journey to the front of the chapel takes thirty seconds, and thirty years.

  He doesn’t have a speech prepared, but that doesn’t matter. He’s got a lot to grieve, lost friendship chief among them. He stands at the lectern for half an eternity, and then words start spilling out of him like a waterslide into a plunge pool.

  “For those who don’t know me, I’m Russell Vogel,” he begins. “Stefan had been my best friend since we were nine years old. At first he was shy and we mostly hung out around school, but we realised that we lived close by to each other. He helped me come out of my shell after we’d moved to Almsworth, and we were as close as any two childhood friends could be.” He looks at Petra, who isn’t paying attention and is crying into Mrs Riley’s shoulder.

  He gives her a quick, respectful nod.

  “Me and Stef were inseparable, for the most part. He definitely hung around a lot, but he was close with my brother Mark, too. If he were still alive, I’m sure my brother would have a lot of things to say too.” The bck woman near the back seems to be startled by this. Did she know Mark, too? He’d have to ask Amy, Mark’s friend. She still checks in on him, it’s nice to know someone cares.

  “Unfortunately,” he continues, “I had a falling out with him a few years ago. Silly bugger got it into his head that Mark was still around, somehow. I… pushed him away. Said a lot of things I regret, that I’ll never be able to make up for.” He turns to the coffin and taps it gently. He knows it’s empty; Stef’s body hasn’t been found yet. “I miss you buddy. You were my anchor after Mum died. I shouldn’t have sent you away.”

  He walks back to his pew as quickly as he dares, and for a second makes eye contact with the woman who knew Mark. She looks away quickly, and the woman she’s sitting with looks at her questioningly. She whispers “at home, Pip,” as he passes by.

  A few more speeches are shared but Russ doesn’t pay attention to them at all. He’s totally drained, and just wants the service over with so he can go home, change, and bury his emotions at work. Mercifully, it’s not long before the pastor delivers his closing remarks.

  The pallbearers carry the coffin out of the chapel, and into the hearse. Aside from Mr Riley, he doesn’t know any of them. Russ had respectfully declined on Sunday. After all, it would be disrespectful to Stef for someone he wasn’t close with anymore to carry him away, right? He’s doubting himself now, just another thing that Russell Vogel has messed up.

  And then, the service ends.

  Reverend Keeling is barely finished inviting everyone for refreshments before Russ is halfway out the door. He half jogs to his car, and just sits there for a moment as everything he’s been holding in threatens to release itself into tears. He grips the steering wheel and grits his teeth, leaning down from the strain. It’s quiet.

  He hears the lock from a nearby car disengage, and muffled voices through the window.

  “Yes, okay!” a voice whisper-shouts. “He’s one of Melissa’s PTAs. Happy?”

  “You need to tell her, Abs.” Russell looks up: it’s those two women again. But they see him, too. Without another word, they get in their car and drive off.

  He doesn’t know what any of that means, and he doesn’t rightly care at the moment. He needs to get home, get into his work clothes, and go to the vet’s office for his shift. He’d only asked for the morning off and he is expected at twelve sharp.

  However, on the way home he can’t help but feel a lot of things don’t add up. And as he turns the note around in his mind over, and over, and over, he can’t shake the idea that something is just off about that, too. Is that really what someone writes when they’re going away forever? Mark didn’t leave a note at all when he died. And what’s with those two girls?

  But it’s just a hunch, merely instinctual. And he won’t make the same mistake that Stef did. He’s not coming to anyone without proof.