Max stared down at the blade in his hands. He was going to end it all. There was nothing for him to live for, so why bother? Sure, he had thousands of fans and great friends, but there was only ever really one person who truly mattered to him.

Ross.

He'd been his crush for who knows how long. He had the uncanny ability to make him smile, even though he was known as being 'Mad Max'. He'd loved him for forever and Ross had never given him the time of day.

A single tear slipped from Max's eye as he thought of all the stupid stuff they'd done together across several channels on YouTube. He'd longed to tell Ross how he felt, but he was scared, no, terrified of losing the precious friendship they already had. So afraid he kept silent. Now, it was too late.

Ross had gotten himself a girlfriend. Max had seen the way they acted around each other. It was clear as day they adored each other. Ross still played games with him for recording videos, but every spare moment he had seemed to be spent either talking on the phone or hanging out with his girl.

The tears began to flow freely as Max pulled out the suicide note he'd written beforehand and placed it on his bed. He'd read it and reread it so many times he knew it by heart. He wanted his last words to be perfect, especially since he admitted his love in it. Hell, he'd addressed it to Ross.

Dear Ross,

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry it had to end this way, but the truth is, I couldn't bear my suffering any longer. I couldn't take it, seeing you so happy and in love with someone else.

I love you, Ross. I have loved you and I always will love you. I never told you because, well, because I was scared. Scared you wouldn't feel the same, scared you'd push me away, knowing how I felt. I guess, now I'll never know.

You'll move on eventually. All of you. I'm replaceable at SkyMedia, Adam can always hire a new editor. You and Tim can find a new roommate. The Internet is forever changing; all those fans will eventually forget I'd ever existed.

So I guess this is good-bye. Just once more, I love you, Ross.

Yours,

Max

Max studied the knife for a moment. It was already stained slightly red from the countless times he'd cut himself just to get through the day. That just wasn't enough anymore.

He raised the blade. Closing his eyes, he whispered, just once, into the open air the four words that weighed heavy on his heart.

"I love you, Ross."

He brought it down, slicing through the flesh on his wrists. Quickly switching hands, blood making his hands slippery, he repeated the process on the opposite side before the knife fell from his grasp and he slumped to the floor, unable to support himself due to blood loss.

And there he laid, sprawled on the floor, resting in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood. His eyes began to close and time seemed to slow. Max could feel his heart beating in his chest as his vision began to blur, noise beginning to sound as if he was underwater.

Gradually, he faded into unconsciousness, listening to the sound of his slowing heartbeat.