Ch3

I groaned when the morning sun hit my eyes. I rubbed my eyes and glanced over at the clock while groping for my shades, cursing my light sensitive eyes. After successfully getting them on, I resolved myself to the task of getting up. After fifteen minutes, and the smell of bacon, I arose. Stumbling through Karkat's house I found the kitchen, but decided it wasn't worth dragging my ass in there when the couch was perfectly inviting.

I plopped myself down and turned the tv on, looking over when I heard Karkat yelling that "THAT WASN'T FUNNY," telling me our little trickster had pulled a prank. I grinned to myself before half paying attention to the stupid reality tv show that was on. After a couple of minutes John peeked out from the doorway to the kitchen, smiling and telling me good morning, to which I grunted a response. I have never been, nor never will be, a morning person, and my early rising dorks evidently have yet to realise this.

After another ten minutes the duo finally procured the steaming plates of deliciousness, along with sweet ass beverages. John got his Pepsi, Karkat his milk (don't know why, but he really prefers the stuff) and my apple juice, the sweet nectar of the fucking gods. All three of our respective residences were stocked with apple juice at my demand, and I wouldn't have it any other way. No meal is complete without it.

We munched, and mostly ignored the tv, settling for ranting, chastising, joking, and other usual topics of discussion. I was having a lucky day however, I only got two heated arguments from my boys about movies, and one rant from Karkat about how we "shouldn't leave (our) shit around (his) fucking house." Pretty good for one meal.

I was just about to settle in for a nap on the couch when John got up, offering to do dishes like the sweetheart he his. However, since neither of us trust him to do things like that alone without any pranks or tricks, Karkat volunteered to keep an eye on- AHEM, help him with the dishes.

I smiled to myself as I listened to them bicker. To anyone else it seemed full of hatred, but the three of us knew better. It was mostly teasing, and often full of concealed laughter and derpy grins. I was just about to drift off when everything quieted suddenly. I lazily opened an eye, suspicious, before resolving to wait this one out. I heard some muffled whispers, and prepared myself for whatever they were gonna pull, but what came instead made me sit up fast.

"Dave..?" John's voice sounded distressed, and it worried me.

"Yeah?" I called, looking over the back of the couch. Karkat walked out, looking pissed, with John following close behind. I recognised the look on my blue eyed dork's face, he was trying not to cry. "What's wrong?"

"Anything you haven't been telling us?" Karkat growled, his voice dark. I was taken aback, he could be grumpy, by I don't think I've ever seen him this... angry and upset.

"I... don't think so... anything particular in mind?" I was cautious, I had no idea what was going on, and honestly I was a bit scared, though I didn't let it show.

"Then what the hell is this, and who the hell is Dirk?!" Karkat spat, as John bit his lip, watching my face fearfully. I looked at what he had thrown in my face. I was now holding my phone, with a simple notification. "Dirk". I immediately understood why they were so upset.

They knew that my notifications for our dates were in that format. They also knew the only other notifications I ever put in were birthdays, because I didn't like cluttering up my schedule with much else, and that if it were a birthday it would say so right there. But they didn't get the guilt they were probably expecting.

I bit my lip and swallowed hard. I've never told them. I've never told anyone. Only Striders know. I stood, grabbing my keys as I left without a word. I knew it looked suspicious, but I didn't care. I was gonna cry. And I didn't want them to see it. Ever. Striders aren't supposed to cry.

The muffled sob I heard made me pause in the doorway, I couldn't help stopping. All I wanted was to turn around and comfort them, but I couldn't. I didn't trust my voice. And I was too busy yelling at myself for forgetting. Even for a second.

I tried not to think too much as I drove back to my apartment. I didn't want to. When I arrived I slipped in. Closed the door behind me, or at least tried. I didn't make it far, tears were streaming down my cheeks and I doubled over, leaning against the door, letting myself give in to the sobs now wracking my body.

My twin brother Dirk died just over a month before we moved here. We were messing around on a Thursday night, playing basketball and shit in the street, and a drunk driver hit him when neither of us were looking. D's career was just taking off, so he used that as an excuse to push us away and fall into a cycle that helped him hide his grief, burying himself in work and alcohol, and who knows what else. Bro on the other hand, was stuck with the identical twin that reminded him every day of what he'd lost. He was stuck with me.

Neither of the two will admit it, but they can't really look me in the eye because of the resemblance. Hell, I can't look me in the eye because of the resemblance. It hurts. But there's nothing I can do about it. It's why the three of us fell apart. We were all so close, but it just hurts too much. To their credit they tried, they really did. The first couple of years we'd all get together for it, the "anniversary". We'd drink his favorite orange soda, watch his favorite movie, and talk and cry together. Some of the very few times I can actually remember us crying in front of each other. But after that it was just too painful.

Now Bro spends it with Jake. D even has some girl now I think. I can't remember who she is though. But I spend it alone. Last year I pretended to be sick. It was on a Tuesday. And by Wednesday I was back like nothing happened. This year it's a Saturday.

Last week Bro and I went to the store together, for the first time in a long time. Usually it's either one or the other. But last week we both went. Got a six pack of Orange soda and a thing of orange juice for each of us. And Bro grabbed an extra pack of beer. I didn't comment on that, we both knew he was gonna need it.

I sat down on the couch after grabbing the soda. Letting the sobs ring out as I popped the cap open. After gulping half of the burning liquid I pressed play on the previously prepared movie. It was one of D's first movies. It was shitty, but it had an okay plot. I followed along as I sunk deeper into a puddle of my own sorrow and grief.