Darren sat in his cold dorm, getting the sudden onslaught of sorrow he was now burdened to carry with him always. He was no longer able to arrange and unpack. It just felt wrong. All of this. Why had he come here?

Darren kicked the nearest box, tears falling afresh down his cheeks. The tear tracks were painful, rutting their familiar red rash path down his face and onto his jeans, leaving tiny stains. Darren sucked in a shaky breath and held it so he wouldn't arouse worry in any of his dorm-mates.

He had cried the whole drive to LAX. He had cried the entire plane ride. His mother looked reluctant to let him go as she helped escort him to the terminal, completely at a loss of how to help her son. But she realized this was his decision, and he was coming to terms with it in his own way. All she could do was give Darren her unyielding support, for which he was eternally grateful.

It was only a matter of time before Chris knew where he went. That Darren had abandoned him. Although Darren's heart wracked with shockwaves of the most awful pain the world, his brain told him that this is where he should be. But why couldn't he move from this spot anymore?

"Hey, man you alright," a voice asked, startling Darren as he hastily wiped his cheeks and sniffled. "Yeah, fine."

The boy, probably a freshmen like Darren sat down next to him and rubbed his back tentatively. His eyes were soft brown displaying to Darren that he seemed genuinely concerned. "Whatever's bothering you, I'm sure it'll pass," he offered helpfully.

Darren attempted to smile. "I really appreciate it thank you. I'm just really far away from.. home." My heart. My love. My liveliness.

The boy nodded, "I'm Joey by the way. Joey Richter."

Darren shook his hand formally, the angle slightly awkward since Darren didn't want to touch Joey with his snotty hand. "I'm Darren Criss."

Joey smiled in a crooked way, and Darren found it adorable making his heart warm unexpectedly. "Well it looks like we're going to be roommates, huh? What you studying?"

"I'm a theater geek," Darren admitted sheepishly. "I hope this means we can still be friends."

"The best of!" Joey exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "C'mon, let's nerd up our room!"

As the two boys chatted excitedly about their lives, their aspirations and their dreams, Darren nearly forgot the anguish of earlier, just for long enough he was able to feel content. Maybe he could survive here, with his new friend.

Darren woke up with his head pounding horribly with each dull thunk of his heartbeat. He shifted his deathly sore body and noticed his cheek was pressed against something wet on top of a cold porcelain surface. Darren groaned out loud, wiping the hopefully just drool from his cheek, and pushed himself away from the toilet, his spine colliding roughly with the hard bathtub.

Darren had an inkling he hit rock bottom, because never in his life had he felt so terrible, and had drank so much by himself, especially by means of self-medication. And the worst part was that nothing came from it except his tortured body and a foul-reeking bathroom. He still had to go to work today.

Like a terrifying reminder, Chris' name drifted lazily over his consciousness despite the fact his brain was fighting his very long stretched out blackout. The last thing he could remember was the pain, and the sweet glorious burn in his throat as he downed his whole bottle of vodka.

Darren had succumbed to this path once in college, and it was a very dark time. Darren was utterly terrified of going to that place again, so he really had no choice. He needed that one person who always brought him back from the brink of depression. The one person who had saved him from Chris feelings last time.

He needed Joey.

With shaking, weak hands Darren patted his pocket discovering it wasn't there as usual. Darren fought down his flare of panic with reason. He had come home with his phone, so it was probably somewhere in the house.

Darren took a few deep breaths, fighting further nausea and then crawled slowly on his hands and knees out of the bathroom. Squinting against the brightness of the clear morning seeping through his bedroom, he spotted his phone face-down on his mattress. Darren grabbed it, then flopped on the floor, groaning, unlocking the screen in the process.

To his horror, it was past 7:00am, meaning he was supposed to be on set, like now but it only got worse. When Darren's screen popped to life, the text message application was still open, Chris' name at the top above a series of text messages.

Oh, god.

From Darren:

(9:07pm) Hi Chris.

(9:42 pm) crhis

(10:01 pm) i know you arnt texting bcak because you hate me for some reason

(10:03 pm) you dont know how sorry i am for evrything

(10:04 pm) i love you, chris y

(10:07 pm) ou don't know how much

(10:26 pm) but i didnt deserve waht you did to me

"Fuck," Darren grit out, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead roughly. He didn't remember writing any of that, but thank goodness Chris didn't respond. Hopefully they didn't go through. A man could dream.

Darren swallowed his pride, acknowledging the dull ache in his chest and sharp pain in his head as he pulled up his contacts and clicked on Joey. He put the phone to his ear, swallowing thickly because his mouth was so parched.

Joey picked up on third ring, "Hey man."

"Hi," Darren croaked, closing his eyes to somewhat soothe his pounding headache. "What you up to?"

"Laying in bed," Joey informed, making noises that sounded like he was stretching pleasurably.

"Oh did I wake you," Darren asked feeling like a nuisance. "I'm sorry."

"Shouldn't you be on set," Joey inquired with a tired laugh. "Miss me already?"

"When you going to come visit me on set?" Darren asked, trying to avoid the bad news as soon as possible. He didn't want to sound needy.

"Um," Joey trailed off, stretching again and groaning happily. "I could today if you want. I don't need to head back to Chicago for a few days."

Darren's heart lifted with relief. "Can you come get me?"

"Is there something wrong with your car again," Joey sounded exasperated. "I keep telling you that you need to check out the heater core, I'm pretty sure that's it."

"Actually no," Darren said glumly. "I just can't drive today. Hence why I'm late."

Joey was quiet for a long moment, the realization of what Darren's hidden meaning was roll over him. "Oh, Darren what happened?"

Darren bit his lip, feeling his throat close and tears start to well up again. "Chris."

Joey sighed irritably. "Darren, I told you deciding to try out for a show he worked for would only share a likeness of walking straight into hell."

"I know," Darren whispered lowly. "You were right, but it's also more than that."

Darren imagined Joey's eyebrows shooting up. They knew each other well. "I thought he wasn't interested in being friends, but was keeping things civil?"

Darren gulped loudly, allowing his tears to drip out of the corner of his eyes and onto the carpet. "Something happened."

"If he hit you-" Joey began heatedly, but Darren cut him off.

"Nothing like that," Darren assured sadly. "It was my fault really."

"Go on," Joey prompted gently, and it only made Darren cry more.

"We had sex," Darren choked out.

"What?" Joey spluttered. "When?"

"The other night," Darren sobbed. "It meant nothing to him, but everything to me."

Darren started heaving with sorrow over the line, and it made Joey's heart hurt. He couldn't do anything now, especially over the phone so he hopped out of bed and grabbed random clothes in the process of running to the bathroom. "I'm so, so sorry.. just.. hold on Darren. I'll be there as quick as I can."

"Thanks," Darren mumbled, his voice broken. "You're a lifesaver." Literally.

After Darren hung up, he continued crying knowing that despite the fact that Joey was going to do everything in his power to make things better, Joey could never change the fact that Darren had to face Chris every single day of the week. And Darren knew deep down that the wound would be ripped open cruelly every time Darren saw his face. What was he going to do to cope?

Chris couldn't sleep. No, his mind kept him awake the entire night so he could torture himself. Darren's face flashed across his mind every few seconds or so, reminding him of the harsh reality. Darren's heartbroken, crumpled face when Chris deliberately smashed everything they shared together back into his tortured expression at the party last night. It was the most horrible thing Chris ever saw and ever done, and he was going to have to live with it forever. Chris wasn't sure if he could.

The dark-toned skinned man with dark curly hair sleeping next to him was not Darren. The man that Chris fucked the entire night into the sheets was not Darren. It was Max. It was never going to be Darren. And this was an awful tragedy.

Chris gave up on going to sleep around 4:00am, so he grabbed his phone to sit on the couch and watch the sunrise. Maybe the lovely sunshine radiating through the tall buildings would help his cold, defeated heart. Just maybe.

What Chris hadn't prepared for was his small little notification on his Blackberry screen telling him he had multiple text messages. He vaguely remembered his phone beeping last night in the process of flipping over Max before entering him for the third time. When Chris clicked on the application his heart immediately jumped to his throat, beating rapidly.

Darren.

Late in the evening last night, and based on the misspelling, Darren was probably drunk or inebriated in some sort of way. And not only that, but professed his love for Chris. He still loved Chris, even after all this time. Even after all that had happened. And Darren was right, what Chris did wasn't fair.

But was necessary, Chris reasoned with some dark, sadistic corner of his mind. He knew Darren was his soulmate, but it could never be. Chris would just die alone, and he needed to come to terms with that. Darren deserved to find someone else and be happy. Have kids. Chris couldn't give him that. Chris had nothing to offer but pain and resentment. Darren deserved so much better, and that Mia was probably the one for him. She seemed nice enough.

Chris gagged and clutched his Blackberry to his chest, tears leaking freely as he tried to control his breathing. He couldn't break down now, he promised himself he wouldn't. But as always, Darren throws a curveball and completely surprises him, good and bad.

God, Chris hoped that Darren didn't expect anything back. Chris wasn't sure if he could respond. What would he say?

Fuck off? No, that was clear already. Darren didn't need reminding.

I'm desperately in love with you too, but we can't be together? No, that would be even worse.

It was possible that Darren wasn't aware of his actions last night and was just as mortified as Chris was once he realized he sent them. But Chris had no way of knowing for sure because he had never seen Darren take a sip of alcohol in his life, not even in high school.

So all Chris could do was clutch his phone and his semblance of sanity, knowing that the words near his heart were true, and that's what would get him through his days. Darren loved him. Darren loves me. That was all he needed to know, and somehow it made the sunrise more beautiful than Chris expected.

The music was clawing at Darren's eardrums. Couldn't somebody turn it down? But Darren got distracted by a solid pair of lips moving eagerly against his, recently shaved stubble burning them. Darren couldn't tell if the rush in his blood came from the alcohol or the fact that this was the first guy Darren was kissing since.. since.. him.

"What are we doing," the boy asked against Darren's lips, his voice husky and dripping with arousal. "We can call a girl over here or something.. to make this less gay if you want."

Darren grunted in displeasure, tipping the half-empty bottle of spiced rum clutched in his left hand in his mouth and swallowed hugely. "Just shut up and kiss me alright?"

The boy responded by throwing himself at Darren, his mouth hot and insistent, tongue lashing and burning. Darren shoved down the guys loose pajama pants (as this was a pajama-themed party) and took his half hardened cock in his palm. Darren just didn't even care anymore as he gave an experimental pump. The boy gasped, collapsing agains the door frame and attempted to keep quiet as Darren snapped his wrist quicker, keeping an ear trained on the voices in the other room, really hoping not to get caught.

"Oh god, yes," the boy panted, but Darren covered his mouth with another searing palm. Darren didn't even know his name. All he knew that this guy was a friend of a friend of this girl who he knew who invited him here. Joey was around here someplace with the others, probably feeling awkward. But Darren had to.. finish this.

Darren closed his eyes and gave into the utter wrongness that this was. He'd fucked lots of drunk girls at these parties in his dorm, barely remembering them the next day, but this was new. Darren reasoned that it felt wrong because he wasn't gay, but he knew deep down that wasn't the real reason. It was because it wasn't Chris.

This guys' body felt wrong, all the way down to his unimpressive cock. This was supposed to be with Chris. Chris is who his heart belonged to. Chris, it's always been Chris. Darren grit his teeth and tried not the cry as the boy came all over his fist. Darren wiped it with disgust on the boy's pants, before pulling them up and stumbled away.

"Hey! Thanks!" He called, but Darren just glared over his shoulder and warned, "Don't mention it.. seriously."

Darren approached a group of people who were about to do a round of harsh shots, and he took one and downed it before the rest, placing the rum bottle on the table, feeling that itch in his spine. Even though he could barely see straight and the world was spinning, Darren needed more. More with a side of more.

"Hey'm gimme 'nother," Darren slurred, reaching out toward the host, but he tripped into someone who turned out to be Joey.

"There you are," Joey sighed with relief. "I was starting to get worried."

Darren drooped in Joey's arms, eyes sagging. "I need Chris. Where is he?"

Jaime, who was standing next to Joey gave him a concerned look before murmuring tentatively, "Let's take him back to your guys' room."

"Good idea," Joey said, heaving Darren more into him as Jaime assisted. Once they left the loud room of smelly people, Darren started to feel the crushing blackness take over his brain. But he held on long enough to hear the rest of their conversation.

"He's been doing this a lot lately," Jaime whispered, sounding deeply concerned. "His grades are suffering, and he's becoming more withdrawn."

Joey, who knew the reason was deep down for Darren's behavior was noble instead and decided not the mention it. If Darren wanted the others to know his secret, he would tell them eventually. But Jaime was right, it was getting worse and Joey was starting to feel at a loss. He was helpless, but he couldn't stand to see his friend during his downward spirals. So he only had one option left.

"I might have to enroll him in the program," Joey states somberly.