Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of suicide, self harm, and many other harmful behaviors. If any of these serve as triggers for you, I would highly advise not reading this story. Also I own nothing.

Romeo, oh Romeo. Wherefore art thou, Romeo?

Good question, Juliet, I wish I knew the answer.

There's a laugh, much happier than any of the ones before, yet still with that underlying hint of bitterness.

It's funny when you think about it, we knew each other for how long- seven…eight… nine years?

I can almost see him counting on his fingers when it hits me- I knew Jeff for nine years.

We were best friends for nine years, Nick, and you still never really noticed me.

There's a catch in his voice, and I feel my throat start to close up because if there was one thing I had always noticed, it was Jeff. Maybe I didn't always notice the right things, but I noticed how he refused to eat a sandwich unless the crusts were taken off, or the way he'd tap a door twice before opening it, and how he'd never, ever choose Twizzlers over Redvines, even if the latter was more expensive.

Normally when a person seems perfect, there's always some other person waiting to tear them apart, waiting for them to mess up, so they can ruin that perfect image.

Not with Nick.

I look over at Trent, who's nursing a coffee despite the dirty looks the librarian is throwing him, and he smiles wearily.

Nick, Nicky, you don't belong on these tapes— at least not in the same way as the others. But if I want to tell my story, you need to be here.

Look, I know there've been gaps in my story. There are some parts I couldn't figure out how to tell them, others I couldn't bring myself to say out loud, but by the end of this you'll enough, and I guess that's really all that counts.

You don't know what exactly went on in my life- at home, at school- you don't know what goes on in anyone's life but your own. And when you mess with one part of someone's life, you're messing with their entire life.

Everything affects everything.

I pause the tape and pull out the headphones. "W-why?" I ask quietly, my voice shaky and raw. "Why do I have to hear this? Why didn't he just skip me if I don't belong?" I wipe away stray tears. "I-I would've been happier never hearing any of this."

Trent shakes his head. "You would've gone crazy not knowing what happened," he replies simply, before reaching across the table to squeeze my hand lightly. "Besides, I think he wanted you to know."

I'm not fully satisfied with that answer, but he makes a sweeping motion and I slip the headphones back in my ears.

The next few stories are centered around one night, Nick.

Our night.

And I know you know what I meant by our night, because after all the Warbler practices and movie nights, there's really only one night that was really, truly ours.

For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, there's a gold star on your map. C-6.

I look down and a spark of recognition flashes through me.

The Westerville Embassy Suites .

Should I pause for dramatic effect? Now some of you know exactly where you fit in, don't you? But you'll have to wait 'til your name comes up to find out how much I tell.

I remember that day perfectly. It was earlier in the year, we had just won sectionals, and the penthouse suite was reserved as per tradition. All the groups from the competition were there- Sebastian and Noah had stocked the place with music and booze; everyone was partying and having a great time, shaking off the stress of everyday and letting loose, if only for a night.

Do you remember the balcony in the bedroom, Nick? Do you remember the chill of the winter air as we looked out at the city lights? We were talking and laughing, and probably really, really drunk. But I didn't care. All I cared about was you and the way you'd smile and make me feel like I was the only person in the room that mattered.

That's because you were, Jeff.

You were there with your head resting on my shoulder and your arm around my waist, and I realized that you were exactly what I needed.

So I kissed you.

My hands slide up to my lips automatically, tracing over the ghost of a kiss. "No, I kissed you." I argue quietly.

It was soft and slow and beautiful, and when we came up for air, you asked me, "What was that for?"

To which I replied. "You're an idiot," and kissed you again.

I remember that too.

Eventually the kisses grew longer, hotter, and I let you slip a hand under my shirt as I tried to pull you closer until we were almost one.

The kisses felt like first kisses, kisses that told me I could start over if I wanted to.

I had been so torn about that night- sad that it took so long for us to get there, but happy that we got there together.

And, god, did I want to.

I wanted to tell you everything, but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't let you be dragged down by my secrets. I couldn't stick around and watch as I slowly ruined you.

I remember Jeff pushing me away suddenly, untangling himself from my embrace and yelling at me to stop. I remember feeling my heart sink to my stomach as I realized Jeff didn't want this, didn't want me.

I wish he would've told me I was wrong.

I closed my eyes and tried to push away everything that I was seeing in my head- the names, the places- everyone up to that night who had affected me in one way or another.

I sat there awkwardly for a moment, hoping he'd tell me to stop, only this time, it'd be to stop leaving.

I was positive Jeff hated me, that I'd pushed it too far and our friendship was ruined.

"Go," he told me.

"I—this doesn't have to change anything," I pleaded. All I wanted was my best friend, in any way he'd have me.

He shook his head and shrugged my hand off his shoulder. "Go," he repeated this time a little weaker. "Please, just go."

I had never been able to refuse Jeff anything— to lie to him or tell him no— especially when he was hurting. Only, this time it was my fault, and it took everything in me to get up and walk away.

I could hear the music as the balcony door slid open, then the muted silence as it slid shut once more. I heard the bedroom door click closed, then I sat down on the floor jerkily, hugging my knees and crying.

End Tape Nine.

"I should've been there for him," I murmur, "I didn't hurt him, but I left him. I was the only person who might've been able to reach out and save him from himself. He-he needed me, and I knew that."

Trent bites his lip and I can tell he's barely holding it together as well. "You can't blame yourself, Nick. Remember, it's not your fault," he says, repeating what I had told him earlier.

Had it only been a fifteen minutes? It seems like so much more. A few traitorous tears make their way down my cheeks. "It's different though," I protest, "He was my best friend, and I failed him."

Trent gets up and moves to wrap his arms around me tightly, letting me sob into his neck and let out everything that's been locked inside.

"I miss him," I say, finally, as we pull apart, pink cheeked and a little more than slightly embarrassed. "I-I liked him for so long, but I never got the nerve to tell him. He was my everything."

Trent clucks his tongue and pulls me in for another hug, running one hand soothingly up and down my back. "No one blames you," he repeats. "No one."