━━ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄!
❪ everyone has daddy issues! ❫

( warning: there is a section in this chapter where Brooke feels like he is having an anxiety attack, but it is quickly resolved; please be careful. you have been warned )

⋆        𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗙𝗟𝗘𝗪 across the guitar chords, the music played throughout the room. Brooke sighed as his fingers stopped, holding the guitar's edge as he tried to look closer at the music sheets. Brooke started to mumble, reading the sheet's musical symbols. Brooke's chest heaved as he stood up, placing the guitar on the stand, not wanting to stress himself further on his music. He checked his watch, seeing that it was close to the mid━afternoon when he was supposed to meet with the study group. But before he could pack up, he traced his fingers across the watch's screen, ran his fingers on the cracks, and gritted his teeth.

He had realized what today was and would not have a great day.

"Great, now I'm in a good mood," Brooke spoke to himself, grabbing his guitar case covered in stickers he had collected over the years and putting his guitar away. He breathed slowly, trying to calm himself down, knowing it wasn't worth it if he became agitated. Brooke reached over to the music sheets, carefully putting them in his bag before putting them on his shoulder, allowing him to carry his guitar case.

Brooke walked down the hallways, heading towards the study room, songs humming throughout his head before pausing as his father's voice echoed in the back of his mind. Brooke didn't want this morning to be ruined by the reminders of his past. Before he entered the study room doors, Brooke took a second to breathe one last time, trying to find his happy façade.

As he walked in, he could hear Pierce trying to command his phone to do something for him, and Brooke bit his lip as he walked in quietly, taking a seat next to Jeff's chair, seeing that it was empty. Annie looked up and smiled, giving a small wave, to which Brooke responded the same, but with tired energy rather than matching Annie's point. He placed his guitar case carefully before placing his hands in front of him.

"Voice command. Voice command. Voice command━" Pierce continued to speak, and Brooke sighed, closing his eyes to attempt to relax, placing his hand under his chin to rest. The rest of the study group also looked toward Pierce, confused about what was happening. The silence revealed the awkwardness as everyone watched Pierce. Brooke started to fidget in his seat, not wanting to create a sudden burst of anger, but every little thing was making him agitated, and he felt himself getting upset. He didn't know how to control it, his breathing picking up as he tapped his fingers on the table, attempting to calm himself.

"So, uh, Brooke! I didn't know you could play the guitar," Shirley said as she turned to Brooke, trying to distract Pierce from his constant voice and get his phone to answer his commands. Brooke smiled slightly, tilting his head to the side as he faced his guitar case.

"Uh, yeah, I take music classes as well as Music Theory but━"

"Voice command. Voice command. Voice command."

"Anyway... As I was, uh, saying, yeah, I do play the guitar, but I'm looking to do other instruments━" Brooke said as he tried to continue what he was saying, but Pierce was making the task difficult. Brooke sighed as he made eye contact with Pierce, fidgeting in his chair again.

"Voice command. Voice command━" Pierce said as he interrupted for the third time, and Brooke slammed his hand on the table, a sudden burst of anger exploding out of him. The study group turned to Brooke and Jeff, who paused by the door as he was about to enter.

"Pierce, will you shut the fuck up, please! Just shut up!" Brooke said as he screamed, getting out of his chair and placing his hands on the table. Pierce stared back at Brooke, shocked. Brooke started to breathe heavily, realizing what he had done, and he sat down slowly, not making eye contact with any of the study group members, even Jeff, who sat quietly next to him.

"Um... I'm━ I'm sorry," Brooke spoke softly, staring at the table, tears forming in his eyes, but they weren't enough to make him lose control of his emotions. Brooke wanted someone to change the topic, not ask whether he was okay. Brooke just wanted to move on from his sudden outburst. He could feel Jeff's eyes on him, and he cleared his throat, sitting in his chair.

"Hey, guys, I found it. The ultimate blow━off class. Professor Whitman thinks he's in the Dead Poets Society. There are no tests; there's no work; it's just day seizing. The deadline to enrol is tomorrow. I suggest you all do it," Jeff said as he looked around the table, pushing forward a form to enrol, and the energy changed. Brooke remained quiet, but he was listening.

"Well, some of us are here to learn things," Annie said as she moved the form away.

"I'm in."

"Me too; it sounds educational!" Annie immediately said as soon as Troy had said that he was interested. After that, the group became interested in the class, and Brooke slowly lifted his head towards the form, still avoiding eye contact with the study group.

"I'll do it; I love Robin Williams!"

"Abed?"

"Not a fan. In every movie, an authority figure gets mad at him for making people laugh," Abed said as he spun the paper around his pencil, and Jeff raised his eyebrow.

"No, are you going to take the class?"

"Oh, I can't. My dad will only pay for classes that help me run the family restaurant. It's been struggling since 2001; 9/11 was pretty much the 9/11 of the falafel business," Abed said, a ping of sadness hinted in his voice, but it was hard to detect. Britta turned to him, confused about what Abed was saying, before the realization hit her.

"So your dad has your whole life planned out for you? Are you even interested in falafel?"

"I'm interested in making movies, but my Dad says all media's Western propaganda that negatively stereotypes Arabs."

"You should see Aladdin; Jafar was a badass," Troy said before he swung his hands in front of him, resembling Jafar's staff, and both Annie and Shirley agreed simultaneously.

"Abed, how much does a film class cost?" Britta questioned Abed, who responded with the amount. Britta reached down to her bag, getting out a check, and the group all whispered amongst themselves, curious about what Britta had planned. Jeff scoffed as he gestured for Britta to explain what she was doing as she started to sign a check for Abed.

"Isn't Abed's dad a hardcore Muslim? They're not as understanding as Christians. You could get your head cut off with a salami sword."

"Shirley! That's the most racist thing I've ever heard."

"Is that racist?" Shirley said as she put her hand on her chest.

"Pierce will beat that in one minute."

Throughout the conversation, Brooke hadn't thought to add input because he was still trying to find a sense of calmness. It almost seemed he was shutting himself out of his body and was lost in his mind. He didn't mean to have an outburst, but a slow━building tension was creeping throughout Brooke's body. At this point, he was on the verge of a breakdown, and it didn't help that he had the letter in his bag, which he swore he would burn in front of his father. Brooke sighed as he fiddled with his fingers, wanting to speak up and genuinely apologize for causing such a scene, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead, overthinking thoughts continued to invade his mind, and he felt his chest constricting his insides.

He hadn't even realized that the bell had already gone and that most of the study group had left to attend their classes. Brooke's chest heaved quickly, and Brooke closed his eyes, trying desperately not to break down and cry in his chair. He knew he needed to get to his next class, but for the time being, it looked like it wouldn't happen. Then, before it could get worse, a hand placed itself on Brooke's shoulder, and ringing began to run through Brooke's ears.

"Hey, Brooke, follow my breathing."

"I'm trying; I don't know what to do. Everything is just going to shit, and I don't know what to do; I don't know what to do━" Brooke started to speak, ending in ramblings as he breathed slowly, trying to get a sense of calm.

"You're okay ━ everything's okay; no one is angry at you, Brooke."

"No one... No one is mad at me?"

"Yeah, no one is."

Brooke sighed as he looked up from the same spot he had been staring at for a few minutes. Brooke sniffed, making eye contact with the person helping him calm him down, saving him before he had full━blown anxiety. Abed smiled as he sat in the empty chair, waiting to see if Brooke needed more breathing practice.

"Thanks... Abed, truly. I think I'm a little bit better now..."

"Good, that's good, cool, cool, cool. Jeff wanted to help but got dragged away by the film teacher he talked about earlier, so he sent me to help. You're sure you're okay now?" Abed said as he placed his hands on his lap, observing Brooke as he adjusted his glasses. Brooke nodded softly, breathing heavily one last time, his chest heaving slowly, returning to an average pace as it was before. He thanked Abed for not pressuring him about why he was upset because it was something that he wanted to figure out first before telling someone in the study group. The pair sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both appreciating, before Abed started to help Brooke pack up his books.

━━━━━━

⋆        𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 a little bit better than he was during the study room. Sitting behind Jeff's desk, with Abed by his side, surrounded by the group in the film classroom. But, even if he was feeling better, he still had a quiet nature, his mind constantly filled with noises that he couldn't suppress. He knew he should enjoy this class but couldn't bring himself.

Before the class started, Jeff turned around in his seat, giving a soft look, and Brooke's harsh lines around his eyes softened, giving a small smile. Brooke wrapped his arms around himself, exhaling a deep breath before looking ahead to the front of the classroom where Shirley stood. Professor Whitman leaned back in one of the student's desks, looking at Shirley with a focused look.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Shirley Bennett!"

"Shirley, you get an A━", Professor Whitman said as he got out of the chair, surprised Shirley, excited by the thought of getting an A already as she clasped her hands together. "━if you can tell me why you are here at Greendale. Shirley?" Professor Whitman said as he questioned Shirley, who immediately nodded in understanding, thinking about what to say.

"Well, to get a degree in business so I can sell my baked goods and whatnot on the Internet."

"Why... Are you here?" Professor Whitman said as he stood up abruptly, staring into Shirley's eyes, which made Brooke so confused about what was happening, but he leaned forward, interested to see what happened next. Shirley raised her eyebrow, not sure what to say.

"To get a degree in business so I can sell my baked goods and whatnot on the Internet..."

"Why are you here?" Professor Whitman said as he stood next to Shirley, grabbing her arms.

"Because I wasted 15 years of my life on a man who left me with nothing but stretch marks and a foggy memory of two bland orgasms. And now it's time to get what's mine!" Shirley said with an outburst, not realizing something was bothering her about her attendance at Greendale. Brooke sighed, noticing that this was something personal to Shirley.

"Day seized. Only when we stop stopping our lives can we start them. Miss Edison here, for example, would rather write what happens to other people than live what is happening to her," Professor Whitman said as he finished clapping. At the same time, Shirley sat down in her chair, feeling uneasy about what she had said, and Brooke couldn't help but feel for her, especially as it was personal. Meanwhile, Professor Whitman walked over to the front of Annie's desk, watching as she wrote notes.

"I thought there might be a quiz..." Annie said as she looked up, confused.

"Well, here's a quiz for you. Why did the pretty young girl die alone, surrounded by sweater━wearing cats trained to use human toilets? Get up on your desk. Come on, stand on top of your desk. Up on your desk," Professor Whitman said as Annie hesitantly stood up but took the steps up on top of her desk, smiling as she gained confidence. 

"She made it. Ha! Everyone, stand at your desks. Up, up, up. Come on. Rise, rise, rise above the programming. All your lives, you were told don't stand at your desk. Well, why not?" Professor Whitman said as he looked to the rest of the class, who all started to get out of their desks. Brooke stood on top of the desk carefully so as not to fall or break the table, and he felt a rush of adrenaline, a sense of happiness throughout his veins. Even if it was a small action, it made Brooke happy. Then, before Brooke could speak, the sudden collapse of another student's desk fell, which made Brooke yelp, holding his hands close to his chest, his heart beating quickly.

"She's okay; go to the nurse; seize the day!"

Brooke carefully stepped down from the desk and looked over at the fallen girl, who got up slowly and walked to the classroom doors, holding the back of her head with some students helping her walk. He tilted his head to the private conversation Pierce and Shirley were having but didn't think to question it as Professor Whitman stood at the front of the class.

"Your homework. I want you to swim in a lake and tell ten people you love them. Mr Winger, may I have a word, please?" Professor Whitman said as Brooke reached down to grab his bag, putting his papers away. Before he was about to converse with Troy and Abed, his phone started vibrating in his pocket, and Brooke froze.

He quickly walked out of the class, apologizing to those he bumped into accidentally. Brooke was not expecting this phone call today, but after the letter outburst and sobbing in his car, he knew he needed to answer the phone quickly. Brooke's fingers grazed against his pocket, getting his phone still vibrating, and the caller ID was clear as day to Brooke's eyes. Brooke looked around him; he didn't want the study group to overhear the conversation ━ he wanted to tell them, but not right now when his feelings were still so vulnerable, especially after his breakdown earlier. 

"Hola?" Brooke said as he cleared his throat, trying to mask the fact that his voice was shaky.

"Brooke? How are you, son?"

"Um, it's uh━ Perdón por no contactar antes━" Brooke rambled, running his hand through his hair as he tried to come up with excuses. It was the only Spanish he could fluently say to his father, something he had rehearsed each time because he didn't want to talk to him. Brooke's heart was racing, and his brain was fuzzy; his whole body was against him, and Brooke reached up to his mouth, biting his finger.

"¿Cómo va tu carrera? Trabajando duro, espero. ¿Haciendo tiempo para encontrar una esposa?" Brooke's father's voice spoke through the phone, and Brooke stared into space, trying to calm himself again. He was walking through the courtyard and worried his father would realize he didn't understand Spanish enough to communicate with him. Brooke cleared his throat again as he sat on the bench, putting his bag beside him.

"Uh, va bien, ¡mucho trabajo por hacer━" Brooke said, only to hear silence on the other side, and Brooke sighed, knowing that he wouldn't get the most out of his father if Brooke kept attempting poor, broken Spanish. "━Dad, I can't... I don't have time for this," Brooke said as he abruptly hung up, his breathing picking up as he stared at the phone screen and turned it off before he could get a bunch of angry texts from his father.

Brooke groaned as he placed his head in his hands, wanting so badly to sob in the bathroom, but it wasn't the right time. He could feel his heart beating fast to the point of another breakdown, and he tried to breathe through his nose.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Oh! Jeff, uh, no, you're not," Brooke said as he sat up a little bit, wiping his eyes dry in case getaway tears were trying to come out. Jeff took the space next to him, and Brooke sighed, clasping his hands in front of him.

"Hey, Brooke, you... You okay?" Jeff said as he looked over to Brooke, who was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say, before realizing that Jeff was there for the whole conversation, and Brooke couldn't lie his way through to say that he was fine.

"Sometimes I wish I knew Spanish," Brooke said quietly, rubbing his hands together out of nervousness, sniffing as he could feel the tears forming.

"Oh, are you stressed? Cause the upcoming test is okay; it's not hard.━"

"Jeff... I come from a Spanish━speaking family and can't speak the language. That's why I'm taking Spanish 101. I can't even speak my language," Brooke said as he looked to Jeff, who paused, watching Brooke's eyes well up with tears. It was pathetic, Brooke knew, to be crying on a bench with Jeff Winger in a community college, but that was life.

"Hey, Brooke, if you ever need to talk about things, I'm... I'm here. I know I play the charismatic guy who gets everything, but I suppose you see past that, Brooke. You are... One of my close friends, and I want you to know that I am there for you," Jeff said, and Brooke couldn't help but pull Jeff into a hug. Jeff was taken back at first, but he patted his back, rubbing circles as Brooke started to sob into his shoulder.

"There, there, Brooky. You don't want Wilhem to see his father crying, right?"

"It's Carlos, and you know that!"

━━━━━━

⋆        𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗘𝗫𝗧 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 Jeff caught Brooke off guard, but if anything, he would help with his situation. Brooke walked through the doors, his eyes locked on the back of Abed's head, who was deeply interested in the laptop's screen. Brooke raised his eyebrow, confused, before walking towards Jeff, placing his bag on the table as he sat next to Jeff.

"Is this the film that he's making? He filmed me in the music classroom for a while. It scared me for a bit," Brooke said as he crossed his arms together, cocking his head to the side as he watched Abed, still focused on editing his film. Jeff clapped his hands softly before him, making eye contact with Brooke.

"Yep, I need to converse with Britta and Abed's dad. They both are at each other's wits' ends, making me lose my mind━" Jeff said as he looked back to Abed. Brooke exhaled, checking his watch before looking to the window, looking past the library's bookshelves to see if he caught sight of Britta. "━so you are here to help me keep sane."

"Well, I'm glad you thought of me as the one that keeps you sane; it's truly a compliment ━ even after what... Happened this morning with my mindset," Brooke said as he laughed it off, clearly not bothered about what happened anymore. Of course, he was glad that he had moved on from his breakdown (the first of many that Brooke knew was bound to happen), but the conversation with Jeff and Abed helping calm him down had made Brooke realize that he wasn't alone here at Greendale. Finally, he had a support system. Jeff, in turn, gave a smile to Brooke, and the pair sat in silence, watching Abed click away on his laptop.

"Oh, how are you going to get Britta and his dad in the same place if they hate each other?" Brooke said, and as Jeff was about to respond, Britta walked through the door, glancing at Jeff as she walked towards the table.

"Hey. You don't have tickets for Ravi Shankar, do you?"

"I lied to get you here because it's time to communicate," Jeff said as he stood from the table.

"Communicate? Have you met Abed?"

"It's not the two of you that need to talk," Jeff said as a man walked through the other door. Brooke sat still on the table, watching the conversation unfold before him. He tugged on his sweater sleeves, crossing his arms to keep the warmth.

"Hey, wait a minute, where's Weezer?"

"Now, this whole mess started because both of you wanted the best for Abed. And I think the lesson we can all take away from this is that everyone should always do whatever they want and leave each other out of it," Jeff said as he looked between Britta and Gobi. Brooke was impressed by how mature Jeff was taking this, and he was impressed.

"Is that your take? Let me give you mine. You and your pillow━lipped girlfriend got all up in my stuff because you wanted to be cowboys, and then you turned chicken when you found out it would take more than speeches and guided missiles."

"Interesting, I hadn't seen the Iraq metaphor━"

"What Iraq metaphor? I'm talking about your speeches and her guided━" Gobi said as he gestured towards Britta, which made Brooke quickly stand up, putting his arm between the two.

"Okay! That's enough, we━ uh, yeah, no. From what I am getting from this, the point is that Britta is sorry about all of this, right?" Brooke said as he looked over to Britta.

"Wrong."

"Crap━"

"Abed may not be a great filmmaker, but that doesn't mean he wants to make falafel. You need to let him make his own decisions!" Britta said as he pointed to Abed, which made Brooke move out of the way to make eye contact with Jeff, who shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Make his own decisions? Have you met Abed? Do you know who he is? You have no idea..."

"Guys, okay━ Oh, I am in the middle; I am being crushed," Brooke said as the group started to crowd close to each other. despite Brooke's height, he was unfortunate due to his square frame. Before he could separate the two that had started arguing, Abed had stood up from looking at the laptop screen and faced the group."

"I'm finished. Britta, Jeff, Dad. Brooke, you can stand behind the chairs with me," Abed said as everyone got into position, sitting where Abed had directed them. Brooke placed his hands on Jeff's chair, grasping his fingers against Jeff's back. at first, Brooke hesitated to move his hands, but he kept them on Jeff's chair. Jeff didn't move, but Brooke didn't think much of it ━  he had done too much overthinking today. Abed turned the lights off before hurrying to the laptop and starting the film.

The film was beautiful in Abed's way, and Brooke couldn't help but notice the underlying themes of father issues. he had no choice but to hold his breath, worried about letting out a shudder. His hands were still placed on the seat, but as the film finished, Jeff leaned back into his hands, and for some reason, Brooke never moved his hands. Gobi started to cry as the credits rolled by, and the group watched him. Gobi and Abed conversed in Arabic, and Britta leaned into Jeff and Brooke.

"I feel a little out of the loop here..."

"That feeling is called the joy of freedom."

"It's quite sweet to see Jeff be right for once━ Not that he isn't wrong all the time," Brooke said as he leaned forward, his head above Jeff's shoulder. Jeff tilted his head towards Brooke to give him a stare, their distance being so close to each other, they hadn't realized that the different conversation had stopped, and Gobi looked over to the three.

"My son is hard to understand. If making movies helps him be understood, then I pay for the class... with falafel as a fallback," Gobi said as he walked towards the study room's exit, giving a small smile to Abed.

"Abed. Did you do all of that to me on purpose? That's not a nice way to treat your friends," Britta said as she pieced the information together. Brooke chuckled, impressed by Abed's plans as he repositioned his hands on Jeff's seat, straightening his back.

"Well, Britta, it isn't called friend business; it's called show business," Abed said as he placed his laptop underneath his arm and took a cigarette out of his shirt pocket before walking off. Brooke's mouth gapped as he watched Abed leave before looking at Jeff and Britta.

"He's smoking. Our Abed is smoking━" Brooke stammered as Britta nodded, shocked.

"Honey, both of you, let him leave the nest," Jeff said as he touched Britta's knee and reached Brooke's arm. Brooke instinctively moved forward without realizing it, letting Jeff grab his arm.

"Get your hand off of my knee."

━━━━━━

⋆        𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗜𝗦 head against the car headrest, tired from today's activities (and breakdowns), but he was slowly getting there. He was happy, at least in the end, and now he was resting in his car, listening to his classic rock playlist made on a cassette tape. As he placed his hand on the wheel, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and Brooke quickly grabbed it out to see a familiar caller ID ━  this time, a caller ID that he wished to hear from rather than his father.

"Hey, Jeff, how are you?" Brooke said as he winded down the window, resting his hand. He was glad he had the sunshine on his skin to keep the warmth, which he held precious to him.

"I forgot to thank you for helping out earlier."

"Oh, it's no problem; I'm always here to help with whatever you need, Jeff," Brooke said as he spoke with a smile.

"Thanks; I owe you one, Brooky, just as Britta owes me one━"Jeff started to speak before Brooke heard Britta's voice from the other side of the call. Brooke giggled, shaking his head softly at the shenanigans between the two. "━but I'll see you tomorrow, no tears, hopefully?" Jeff continued as he spoke a little softer into the phone, and Brooke couldn't help but chuckle at his words.

"No tears, I promise. Remember you are on Carlos duty tonight," Brooke said as the two exchanged goodbyes and hung up the phone. The radio played softly in the background, and Brooke smiled as he placed his phone in the bag next to him while turning up the music. He hadn't realized that he still had the letter written entirely in Spanish at the bottom of his bag, but Brooke didn't want to focus too much on that. Finally, he put his hand on the wheel, giving a slight wave to Professor Whitman, who walked━or skipped━past his car.

Before turning on the car, he watched Professor Whitman stand in the courtyard near the library's entrance. Brooke cocked his head to the side, watching the kiss between Jeff and Britta unfold before him. He smiled, knowing that Britta had planned to help Jeff seize the day to return the favour between her and Abed. He was happy for Jeff to get the wish to kiss the pretty blonde. The music continued in the background as Brooke readjusted his glasses and leaned back, resting his head on the car rest. 

Sometimes, being the second choice was what was best for him. He didn't mind it, ━ he thinks.

𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡:

Perdón por no contactar antes ━ Sorry for not contacting earlier

¿Cómo va tu carrera? Trabajando duro, espero. ¿Haciendo tiempo para encontrar una esposa? ━ How's your career going? Working hard, I hope. Making time to find a wife?

Uh, va bien, ¡mucho trabajo por hacer ━ Uh, it's going well, a lot of work to do

𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒!

i honestly love this fic so much ━ i love writing for it, and brooke truly brought the writing inspiration back for me. i have so much planned for this book, so don't be surprised when this book has more updates soon, because brooke has my heart <3 also, his daddy issues were shown here, and trust me, there is more from where it came from :') i really wanted to make sure i shown his disconnect with his own language, and so the plan went well for this chapter :)

𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗞𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚!