ARI.

I forgot what it felt like to smile. Did those muscles still work? Was I capable to lift my lips into a grin that spoke volumes in bliss? Would I be able to do it without forcing myself; to smile because it felt good and all was good? I hoped to God that I could. I didn't think I'd be able to stop crying, but after 5 days my tear ducts hit a dry spell and all I seemed to have the energy to do was breath.

But even that was difficult.

Saturday morning came around and I didn't even know. It wasn't until my mom shuffled into my room, her featherlike steps of bare feet to carpet trickled into my ears. I was lying on my side, facing the wall and repeatedly drawing pictures in my mind, using the textured stucco to inspire me. I felt her warm, gentle touch on my shoulder, her signature scent of peonies and citrus wafting into my nostrils like a spring day.

"Anak," she began, her voice smooth in my ears, "time to wake up. Go shower, have some breakfast."

(translation: child)

I didn't budge. I continued to stare aimlessly at the white wall before me, blocking out the softness in my mother's voice, all while my mind violently thrashed a crescendo of untapped pain. I still felt numb-- lacerated and withered.

"Ari, come on now," mom continued, her voice never increasing in decibels or frustration. "It'll be a long day. Brayson is waiting for you."

The funeral.

I closed my eyes, deep in concentration as if some how I could magically create a force field that could freeze me in time; freeze everything around me so I didn't have to move forward. I could barely get out of bed to use the bathroom, never mind the idea of stepping out into the frigid, December air to attend a service of someone I so deeply cared about. It would make it more real. The evidence would surround me; suffocating and mocking me, shouting straight to my soul that Brayson Cole was no longer with me.

"I have your dress laid out on your chair," mom informed.

I felt the bed dip, the creaking of the mattress filling my ear. Her warm hand rubbed my back and I could feel my mom try to ebb the ache with the simple gesture. After a few moments, the mattress softly moved again, and a flush of cold glazed the area where my mom's gentle touch once was. The door closed with a light click and once again, I was all alone.

Buzz. Buzz.

Turning over in my bed, I reached my hand out to seize my phone off of the bedside table. I glanced at the glowing screen in my hand, sighing at the preview of several messages before tossing it aside.

From: Bandana Boy 🙈 - 10:06AM
Miss you. I'm still here if you want to talk. Love you bestie.

From: Favorite Asian 👲 - 9:37AM
I'll see you later. I miss you lots Ari. Love you always bestie.

From: Sis 👯 - 8:00AM
Baby love, I'll see you at home. Hang in there. I love you.

From: Jasey Lopes 👸 - 3:34AM
Sean & I toasted to Brayson tonight. Love you beautiful. See you.

I didn't show it, but I was beyond grateful for my friends and family. The last few days, I was graced with several visitors baring chicken nuggets and Starbucks. Everyone attempted to bring me out of my funk; hoping that the ongoing slew of junk food and caffeinated libations would somehow trigger the want to fight for happiness. Everyone came by to see me in my most vulnerable state - everyone but the one person whom I expected to be at my bedside.

I wanted Luke. I needed Luke. His arms around my fragile body was missed; his whispers dipped in his Australian accent, telling me that everything will be okay was craved; his welcoming smell of peppermint, Tide, and cologne that made me feel at home was torture without it engulfing me; and mostly, his tenderhearted presence that I was so used to having around me, was unfortunately deficient in my rived state.

Luke was the one person I so desperately needed yet lacked, that my mind ached with the idea that he was tired of me; that he viewed me as a weak little girl he didn't want to bother with. I was scared that Luke no longer wanted to be at my side, scared that I was only a hindrance to a life that was once seemingly perfect. Had I pushed him too far? Too much? Had I let my ego get in the way of his own needs that he suddenly had enough of the witty, headstrong girl? I wanted nothing more than to be held by Luke and I was willing to do anything to have his strong arms protecting me like they once did.

The hot droplets of water that trickled onto my bare body and cascaded down the supple skin washed away a week's worth of soot and despair. I scrubbed my tan skin till it was raw, easing into a reddish tint, a testament of my yearn to buff my sorrow away. Stepping out of the tub, the cool air kissing my body, I proceeded to dry myself off. As my wet, long hair fell down my back, beads dribbled off of the ends and onto the damp skin before wrapping the towel around my body.

I walked back to my room, closing the door behind me and gazed at the black garment that neatly draped on my desk chair. The simple, posh dress was short sleeved with white, scalloped collars and gold buttons down the front. I saw no reason to dress nicely; no true justification that reveled in the idea that I was going to some fashion forward event. This was a funeral. A service for an innocent little boy who was way too young to be sitting on top of a cloud, a pair of angelic wings to match his angelic eyes.

"Ari?" The door slowly creaked open, Mia's head peeping into the room. "Hey, are you almost ready?"

I nodded, keeping my attention to the vanity mirror before me. I continued to stare, swollen lips slightly agape, as I observed the hallow girl gazing back at me.

"How are you holding up?" Mia asked, inviting herself into my room. I shrugged, not really in the mood to talk; or to do anything really.

Mia grabbed a wide-toothed comb from the clear mason jar that sat on top of my vanity. She gently ran the comb through my hair, carefully untangling my locks till it was sleek down my back.

"I was thinking," Mia began, attempting to make light conversation in light of everything. She pulled a simple, black headband encrusted with several jewels from the vanity drawer, "maybe we, with the guys, can go out for food afterwards if you don't want to stick around for the reception."

"I'll think about it," I answered, finding my voice after being silent for so long.

Mia didn't press on, only nodding her head in respect before sliding the hair accessory atop my head. She gave my damp hair one last run through with the comb, placing it back into the mason jar before giving me a simple side hug. Mia rested her head on my shoulder, gazing at the two of us through the mirror. She gave me one last subtle grin, rubbing my shoulder with care before separating from her sisterly embrace.

"Mom and I will be downstairs," Mia informed, strolling out the door and closed it behind her.

Opening up my closet, I pulled out a black pea coat and slipped my arms through the sleeves. After seizing my phone and dropping it into my jacket pocket, I let out a sigh, still not ready to face the world but had no other choice than to do so. I met my mother and my sister at the bottom of the stairs where they placed delicate shoes on their feet.

"It's so refreshing to see you out of your room sweetheart," mom breathed, grinning from the breath of fresh air that wafted into the foyer.

I didn't answer my mom, only nodding in respect as I slipped my feet into a pair of black flats. I followed the two Quiroz women out the main door and into the car, sliding into the backseat. The drive to our local Catholic Church was quiet, only the soft tunes of 80's rock ballads filtering through my sister's speakers. As we neared the religious establishment, my stomach churned relentlessly and I fidgeted my fingers in nervousness. The car was parked and as both my mother and Mia stepped out of the vehicle, my body stayed put.

I could feel my mind begin to race with stupid thoughts, only adding to my anxiety. In less than fifty yards away, inside the church brimming with people, would be a little coffin. And in that little coffin was a little boy whom I missed dearly.

"Ari, come on anak," mom had opened the car door. I only noticed when I felt a nippy breeze prickle my cheeks.

(translation: child)

I stepped out of the car, shutting the door with a light slam and trekked through the jam packed parking lot towards the entrance of the church. The majority of Percival Shores was here and it wasn't surprising. Brayson touched several lives with his inspiring story and infectious smile. Even stone cold Neanderthals like Jake and Katie paid their respects to our little angel, because Brayson's presence was that powerful. He was able to break through any tough barricade with an innocent grin or joyous giggle. And that was the main thing I missed about Brayson Cole.

I stood at the entrance of the church, the cold, outside air swirling against my bare legs as I gazed forward, eyes locked on the white casket gleaming beneath the church lights. My breathing began to stutter, like my lungs were confused and were trying to compensate for the lack of know how. Suddenly, I felt warm hands grasp my own. My entire body jerked at the touch and I turned my attention to the source.

"It makes it more real doesn't it?" Ashton stood next to me in his best suit; tie and tailored slacks, as his bloodshot eyes were set on the coffin.

I nodded my head, "yea."

"We're ready when you are," another hand clutched onto my left one and when I turned my head, Calum was gazing right at me with a small smile.

"I don't know if I'll ever be," I whimpered, and just like that, I broke. Tears that I thought I had cried out were suddenly flowing out of my ducts at such a violent pace that I was unsure if it would slow down.

"We got you," Calum breathed, pulling me into his chest as I continued to cry, probably ruining the black button up that sleekly hugged his torso.

"You can count on us," Ashton affirmed, care in his tone of voice. I felt his hand soothingly rub my back in support, a small wave of comfort rushing through me. "One step at a time Ari. Let's go, Brayson's waiting."

Meekly, I nodded my head as Calum gave me a friendly kiss on the top of my head-- something he hadn't done since my father's funeral. I guess it's tradition now. With both my hands still clinging onto Calum and Ashton's, the three of us inched our way into the brightly lit room, billowing with cloaks of black. I felt my heart race, frantically pounding against my chest. My anxiety was surging chaotically out of me and I found myself squeezing the life out of the boys' hands. They squeezed mine right back, showing their undying support for me-- I loved them.

Before I knew it, we were standing before the white coffin, baby Brayson lying peacefully inside. His dirty blond hair was nearly combed to one side, his nostrils were clear from any tubes, and if you looked close enough, you could still see subtle hints of his cheerful dimples. Brayson looked like he was sleeping; simply taking a nap before he'd wake up again, urging us all to play with his Legos.

"My little man," I whispered, biting my bottom lip so hard as my tears perpetually fell down my puffy cheeks. Both Ashton and Calum dropped my hands, draping their arms around me instead, prompting me to rest my head against Ashton's shoulder.

"Thanks for letting us be a part of your better days," Ashton lamented, his voice cracking and knew he was crying as much as I.

"You won't ever be forgotten. You'll always be a part of us," Calum croaked, a hiccup escaping his lips.

"I love you Brayson Cole," I whimpered, "always and forever."

Ashton and Calum accompanied me to an empty section near the front pews where Gail and Norman Cole were sitting. Gail held onto my hand the entire service, and when I peered to take a look at both parents, I felt my heart shoot down. I could see ache etch their souls, clinging onto any ounce of happiness like black, sticky tar. It was heartbreaking to see two positive people walk around with a grey rain cloud trailing close behind. Nothing I could say would bring back their only son, so I said nothing.

The service was 30 minutes long, filled with tearful eulogies from both parents, Bible readings and a beautiful rendition of Ave Maria from one of Brayson's cousins. After the in-Church service, everyone left the warm confines of the Catholic sanctuary, to the frosty December air outside. Like a crusade for the angel that Brayson is, all guests followed the now-closed casket to an empty section of the spacious cemetery.

There was a pile of dirt on one side and an empty hole on the other. Several white chairs lined one side of where the coffin was placed. I stood off to the side, still in between Ashton and Calum who continued to comfort me. On the other side of where I stood, I noticed my mom talking to someone. When that someone turned around, I felt my heart plummet at the sight of seeing Reese. Next to him, was none other than Michael, who still looked more sick than ever.

I could tell that Calum and Ashton had seen the despicable duo because I sensed their animosity radiating all around. I couldn't let Reese and Michael's presence demolish the reason why I was here. Brayson needed me right now and I wasn't going to ruin that because two people I thought I trusted were within my proximity. Within 20 minutes, Brayson was being lowered into the ground; within 20 minutes, the grey skies were growing much darker and more angry as brackish clouds brimming with water threatened to explode.

"Let's go say goodbye," Calum said, gesturing for the line of people who were throwing flowers into the hole where Brayson's coffin now laid. The three of us walked over to the pile of colored flowers, grabbing one and following the line of guests.

"Love you little man," I breathed, dropping the flower into the grave. I let out an exhale, biting my bottom lip.

I guess this was it.

As I let my eyes dart from the hole in the ground to the green hills before me, I caught glimpse of a figure leaning against a bare tree. Curiosity filled my veins, and before my brain could react, my feet were already shuffling away from the crowd in black, to the figure several yards away. I sauntered up the hill, shoving my cold hands into my jacket pocket as my feet met the ones clad in black Converse.

"Where have you been?" I asked, gazing at the pair of radiant blue eyes that gazed right back at me.

"Around," Luke shrugged. "How have you been?"

"Not good," I told him honestly, feeling the back of my throat tingle and I knew I was going to cry again. "I really needed you Luke. Like not I-need-you-because-I-was-bored-and-lonely. I seriously needed you because I adore you so much and God dammit, I just--"

"Ari, don't cry," Luke abruptly cut me off, grabbing my arms and pulling me into his chest.

I cried the second I came in contact to his body, weakly wrapping my arms around his waist as if it were the only anchor that could save me. I missed this so fùcking much. I missed his scent and the way his heart seemed to race every time he held me tight. This was what I was craving all week and I hated the idea that the simple embrace from this boy was all I needed to make me whole again. Luke Hemmings was the drug and I was the addicted consumer.

"I don't think you should be here!"

A new voice bellowed in my ears, prickling my spine with an eerie touch. I lifted my head from Luke's chest slightly to turn over my shoulder. A man, whom I did not know, stood before us with narrowed eyebrows.

"I have every right to be here as much as you do sir," Luke retorted. I stood in puzzlement. Did Luke know this man? "I know Brayson Cole. I've babysat him before."

"Was this before or after the Coles were informed of your erratic and dangerous behavior," the man spat. Luke separated from me, forcing my arms to unlatch from his body as he stepped forward to continue this inappropriate confrontation.

"Do you really think now is an appropriate time for this?" Luke questioned, irritation in his voice. "Rumors are a dirty thing."

"Not when the rumors are true," the man cackled. "Get out of here. Your family is dirt and you can best bet that I'm pulling my son out of that math class that your sleazy mother teaches. Says a lot about her if she raised a delinquent son."

"Fùck you!" Luke yelled, fists clenched by his side. Immediately, I grabbed ahold of his wrist, trying to pull him back.

"Luke let's go," I quietly muttered. I was still very much confused as to what the hell was going on, but I could only guess that whatever rumors were spreading at school, had left campus and were now rumors of our small city.

"Son of a bitch," the man growled, "get it? Cause your mom is a bitch."

Luke's wrist was no longer in my grasp and instead his arms were arching back and catapulting towards the man's face. Luke was on top of the fellow, his face a punching bag to Luke's angry fists. The man was no match to Luke, not when the blue-eyed boy was fueled with fire raging inside of him.

"Luke! Stop! Please!" I yelled at him. My shouts echoed in the air, the crowd at the bottom of the hill glancing up at the two brawling men. Ashton and Calum ran up the hill at full speed, grasping onto Luke and pulling him off of the man, whose face was dripping with blood.

"He provoked me," Luke's breathing was deep, swirls of hot air dancing in front of his lips. His face was flushed and still held strong notes of ire.

"It's okay buddy," Ashton nodded his head assuringly. He and Calum dragged Luke away, leaving me in utter confusion. Neither Calum or Ashton even questioned Luke's behavior; it seemed like they expected the outburst, or knew exactly the reason behind the sudden rampage.

The man walked away in pain, meeting a few women towards the bottom of the hill who took him under their care. I turned on my heel, searching for the boys when my pocket vibrated. Pulling out the device, I looked at the screen to see Mia's photo flashing before me. Sliding my finger across the screen, I held the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Oh my God! Where are you? Mom's not okay!"

//

Not gonna lie, this chapter was really hard to write because imagining Brayson's funeral kept making me want to cry. Like, funerals aren't meant for sweet, innocent little boys.

And RECAP, in case anyone is confused about what happened at the end of the chapter. Luke fights a man (whose identity is not important) because rumors are flying around Percival Shores like crazy. This is basically what Ari has missed during the week when she was hiding out in her room. Remember how Luke's therapy files were published? Basically, now the entire city sees Luke as a pariah. So it's not just the school who's bullying Luke, it's the whole city too. Hope that clears things up!

ALSO, ugh! Aren't Calum and Ashton such amazing friends! So jealous. Friendship goals! They're so AHAKWMAKAH!!! Yaaaa!! AND off to the side (or in the media area) I added a video of Miss Jackie Evancho singng Ave Maria... because listening to the song while writing the chapter inspired me greatly and also made me cry a lot! :( RIP Brayson Cole.

ONE DIRECTION, tour videos?! Anyone seen some floating around?! Eeekkkk!!! So hawwwt, I don't know where I put my panties hahah!

THANK YOU all so much for the 400K views and the 7K votes! Holy shit that's so freaking amazing that I need to throw myself a party and you all are invited!!! THANKS for all your support! I appreciate it SO much! Love you guys!