Based off of the music video for the song 'Stan' by Eminem.

[A/N: Yes, I haven't been updating. My exams are starting and I also haven't been in a writing mood. But I'm turning one of my oneshots into a short story so that's good.]

Warning: involves cutting, abuse, foul language, and some fucked up scenes. If you have already seen the music video you'd understand.

"Brenny? Bren? Where are you?"

"Brendon?"

"Brendon, are you there?"

"Brendon, open the door please."

I groaned, looking at the bathroom mirror in front of me. I turned on the water and washed my face with it. The cool water calming me down.

"Brendon, please open the door." Sarah begged, I groaned out frustration. I went over to the door and opened it rather harshly.

"WHAT?" I yelled at her.

"B-Brendon, what did you do to your hair?" Sarah asked, eyes widening as she looked at my hair.

"SHUT UP!" I yelled at her, pushing her away from me and stomping downstairs to the basement.

When I got downstairs I looked at my The Young Brobecks posters. The room was filled with Ryan Ross and Dallon Weekes photos. All of their albums were stacked neatly on a shelf. I sat on the chair in front of my desk and leaned back on it. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and started writing:

Dear Ryan and Dallon,

I keep writing you guys but you guys won't call or reply. I even left my phone number and address down on the bottom. I sent two letters in autumn and you guys still haven't replied, there was probably a problem with the post office. I wrote my address down, too but my writing is messy and maybe you guys didn't see it. Anyways, how are you guys? Dallon, how is your daughter? My girlfriend is pregnant and if I have a daughter I'm gonna name her Amelie. Ryan, I heard about your uncle that shit sucks, hope you got through it. I know guys hear this all the time but I'm your biggest fan. I have a room filled with your poster and merchandise.

I hope you guys will reply soon,

Brendon.

Few months after I mailed my letter I kept going to the post office, seeing if I had any new mail and nothing. I clenched my fist in frustration.

When I got home I saw Sarah sitting on the couch, rubbing her stomach and reading a parenting book. When she saw me she smiled.

"Brendon, dea-" she stood up and walked over to me. Before she could get anymore words out, I pushed her away, causing her to fall on her side.

I rushed downstairs and grabbed another piece of a paper and grabbed my pen.

Dear Ryan and Dallon,

You two still haven't called or wrote back. I hope you guys will have the chance to. I'm not mad, I just find it FUCKED UP when you guys won't reply to your fans. I was at your concert and you two didn't talk to me, you guys could've at least signed an autograph for my brother, Dan, he is your biggest fan. I met you guys in Vegas. Dallon, you said if I wrote you'd write back. Ryan, I'm just like you. I didn't know my father either. He would always cheat on my mom and beat her. I can relate to what you guys say in your music, you guys keep it real. If I have a shitty day I just put on your music and relax. It helps me me when I'm depressed. I sometimes cut, feeling the rush go through my body. My girlfriend is jealous because I talk about you guys 24/7 but she doesn't know you guys like I do.

Sincerely your biggest fan, Brendon.

PS. Us three should date.

I waited two months. 62 days. I waited 62 days and I had gotten no letter and no calls. Anger and filled my entire body.

"Brendon, if you don't start acting like an actual father and boyfriend I am going to go to my mom's house!" Sarah stomped down the stairs to the basement. "What in the world!" Sarah exclaimed, looking at the posters on the wall. "Is this the reason why you wouldn't let me in the basement? You didn't want me to know you're a stalker?" Sarah snapped.

I clenched my fist, not being able to control my anger. I walked to the wall and ripped the large poster apart and kicked the shelf down, CDs crashing.

Sarah screamed backed away. I ran after her and grabbed her by the wrist harshly.

"B-Brendon, let go! You're hurting me!" Sarah cried. I pushed Sarah back, making her stumble down a few stairs. "B-Brenny-" Sarah sobbed. "P-please. Think of your child. Our child!" She cried. I twisted her wrist making her cry.

I grabbed her face and slammed it harshly against the nearest wall, making her pass out.

"Dear Mr. We-Are-Too-Famous-To-Call-Or-Write-My-Fan." I said into the tape, driving on the dark freeway.

"This is the last package I will ever send you two. I know you guys got my last two, I even wrote the address perfectly. I'm in a car, I'm doing a 90 on a rainy freeway. Ryan, I drank 1/5 a vodka, wanna dare me to drive? You guys ever heard that song by that rapper about a fan who never gets a letter from he's idol ends up drowning but the idol could've saved him but didn't? It's like how this is, you guys could've saved me but didn't. I hope you guys hear this and I hope you guys will have nightmares about this. All I wanted was a fucking letter. I hope you guys know I ripped all your posters. We could've been something I loved you gu-"  My rant was cut short by Sarah's screams from the trunk.

"SHUT UP, BITCH!" I yelled. "That's my girlfriend. Remember in your song you said about how you'd slit the person you kidnap's throat? Well I didn't do that. I tied her up in a trunk. Huh, looks like we're not so much alike. I have to go, I'm almost at the river now." I cackle. Sarah's muffled screams filling the car. "Fuck!" I realised something. "How am I supposed to send this tape now?" I said before driving off the cliff. Sarah's heartbreaking screaming filled the air and soon everything was black.

Dear Brendon,

It's Dallon and Ryan.
We wanted to write sooner but we were busy with the tour. You said your girlfriend's pregnant? How far along is she? I really appreciate you wanting to call your daughter Amelie. Look, we're sorry we didn't see you at the concert. We were in a hurry, we are sorry. We signed a t-shirt for your brother Dan. Hope it fits well. But what is this stuff about you slitting your wrist? You shouldn't do that. We think you need some help. What's this all about you wanting to date us? It makes us kinda not want to meet you. We really think you and your girlfriend need each other and you should treat her better. We hope you read this letter in time. We think you'd do fine if you just calm down. We don't want you to do anything crazy. We saw this man on the news who drove off the cliff with his pregnant girlfriend in the car. He had a tape but they didn't say who it was to. They said his name. It was

"It was the same as you." Dallon says, looking up from writing. "Damn."