#this isnt very good but. its been sitting in my drafts for awhile and. idk what else to add

[viscerax]

Hiiii may i get some brim angst🙏🙏

From the day Brian went missing, Tim's life went crashing down around him. Brian. Brian, his friend on the outside, secret boyfriend behind closed doors. Turns out, its not exactly easy to be openly gay when you're in the south. (Not like either of them didn't know that already. Brian grew up in the deep south. Any hint at femininity or flamboyance in a man and they were sent away to church camp where only God can save them.

But that was okay with Tim. He was okay with keeping his relationship a secret. Because Brian knew. And Brian was the only one that Tim needed to know. )

But when Brian went missing, no phone call, no text, not even a God damned note, Tim's life came crashing down. His other friends were limited to Brian's friends, and he had an itching feeling in his mind that they didn't really like 'his type'. (What did that even mean? Shy, dark, brooding, snappy at times? Could they all tell he was secretly gay? Oh god-)

Even Jay, who seemed awfully nice to Tim, someone he wouldn't mind getting to know, no, even his face fell into the blur of memories as he buzzed about his life. Pretending like it'll be okay.

(Everything is fine.)

Tim tries his best to forget about Brian. But he can't. Tim wishes those pesky memory issues would kick in and wipe that stupid smiling face out of his mind, but it won't, and he can't forget. Whether for himself or for Brian, he's not sure.

(Probably both. Because, if he forgets Brian, then he forgets that anyone's ever truly loved him. That anyone's ever seen him at his best, his worst, and even when he's not himself, and still managed to love him. If he forgets Brian, he forgets that there's anything worth living for.)

So Tim does his best. He looks and looks but he can't find him. Eventually he has to return to work, to school. He can't let life knock him out while he's already down and reeling from the loss of his closest companion. He does his best, and he prays that it's enough. Enough that Brian would be proud of him. Proud that he kept going. Proud that he never forgot him.

The days blurred. They blurred more and more. Memories become murky until he even doubts his memories of Brian. If it weren't for the countless voice-mails from Brian (that Tim saved in preparation for something exactly like this,) Tim mightve even forgotten what his voice sounded like. But no. He can't forget. He has to remember.

(...remember... remember.... memory. what a funny thing.)

And the days blur into a smoke, so much resembling the clouds of smoke he pushes past his lips, and he would laugh at the comparison, if he laughed at much of anything these days.

And then suddenly its 3 years. And Tim is celebrating Brian's birthday alone. Because he can't forget. Can't possibly forget that it's a day to be celebrated. Can't forget its significance or why its so important or why he needs to eat cake on this day. (Wait... who's birthday is it? No no, he needs to remember...)

Memories stop becoming blurry when Jay shows up. Jay feels familiar, like there's a memory of him somewhere in there, but he can't possibly make out his face besides a few faint memories of filming for that cursed film. That film that mightve been how he infected everyone. How he infected Brian and-

(No. No. He didn't infect Brian. He couldn't have. Nope. No way.)

And then suddenly Jay is leaking his medical records online, and he can't possibly care to search his memories for a sympathetic moment from him before he's punching him in the middle of a parking lot. To be fair it was kind of deserved.

The days continued to blur and merge, save for the few distinct memories he has of being with Jay. Arguing with him, late nights in hotel rooms, having conversations that would never be heard by another ear, Jay laying down his deepest confessions as if he somehow knew his fate.

Memories come flooding back like a cracked dam when he sees that audition tape from years back. He can finally remember. Remember auditioning, remember filming on hot days, watching Alex yell at everyone for far too long. But most of all, he remembers Brian. Memories coming back like hot flashes and suddenly he can't breath, not because of the intense memories, but because he's making a realization.

That was Brian. Brian was the masked man behind ToTheArk. He watched Brian die and he didn't even know. He watched one of his only friends fall to their death, and he didn't even know.

He didn't know.

But he knew now. He knew that was Brian. That same exact hoodie, and God, who else could it be?

Tim can't breath. He can't feel himself moving as he practically trips over himself and empties whatever contents left in his body into his toilet because it's all just so much.

Brian was dead. He was dead and he wasn't coming back.